Le Bien, Le Mal

I'm sure I've used that title before, but tough. Can't think too much, as have to prepare for interview for human rights scholarship this afternoon that I am in no way going to get. So forgive me for the repetition. Plus it's the title of the MC Solaar song he does with Jazzmatazz that I love. Ooh, Prose Combat mood coming on! Favourite tunes: Obsoléte, Nouveau Western (of course).

A weekend of mixed fortunes and emotions. The mighty Crouching Tigers won their very first game, which makes me incredibly happy, tinged with a small amount of envy due to not being there. But it's wonderful, unbelievable news and I am so proud of how far everyone has come, it's amazing, particularly given that some had barely kicked a football eighteen months ago. Fabulous women, fabulous football - I miss it so, so, so very much.

Of course, Italia won. They had been the better team, more or less, up until now, but I am very very angry with Zizou for getting himself off and, more importantly, therefore allowing Trezeguet to take a penalty (although he probably would have done anyway), and also for headbutting someone (violent, bad) and looking so absolutely mindblowingly good in the photos on his return to France (see below). Or maybe that's just me. But that one with Chirac... And somehow being named best player of the tournament - he was wonderful, but the violent conduct surely mars that - Cannavaro must be wondering what on earth he had to do to win that?

I also had some fantastic sushi yesterday, ate a lot of Mexican sweets, and had a grand afternoon. However, it was marred by being made absolutely petrified by a man who was a pirata i.e. non-official taxi driver. He decided to beep us (not uncommon for taxistas here - you become able to ignore it after a while), but normally they move on when you indicate you're not interested. So we shook our heads. And instead of driving on, he slowed down, shouted things out the window at us and then stopped and got out of the car, walking towards us. Why would you deliberately terrify people like that? It was dark, 8pm on a Sunday which for Costa Rica means there is NO ONE around. We scarpered indoors, wandering around a shopping centre for a while, before realising that we weren't going to catch a taxi that way, but there were a few people around on the other side of the street (including guards with guns - useful, very useful), so went there instead, and finally got into a safe taxi. Still, home safe and sound, and only about 33 hours until I see M, so all in all, a good weekend had by all.