Friday, January 30, 2009

The Fuckery that is Craiglist

First of all, I want to apologize for the overly emo previous post. God….I didn’t even proof-read that one. Just wrote whatever the fuck I wanted and then clicked post and didn’t even have another look at it. I just read it for the first time like 5 minutes ago and I am cringing from the horror of it all. I mean, holy shit y’all….could I sound even more angsty-emo-teenager then that? Well could I? The answer to that is no my friend, no. Sometimes I hate this blogging thing. You post something without thinking it through then when you finally figure out what kind of fuckery that was…you’re already totally screwed. Cause the 7 and a half people who read your blog already read it and there is no way of taking it back. None. And I said “and a half” cause I’m pretty sure one is a midget.



God, that was a mean joke. I’m sorry for that too. If you are a midget and you are reading this blog…please don’t hate me. Go ahead, make all the fat jokes you could think off. It’s fine. Cause at the end of the day you’re still a midget, I’m still fat and I could sit on you with my giant ass and you will suffocate and die. So don’t cross the line….biatch.



Anyways back to my room hunting. When the Uni rejected my application, they included a list of off-campus accommodations that I could look into. That list almost single-handedly killed me. Seriously. I really did convulsed, fell off the chair and then flopped on the floor like a fish on deck for a while. I only stopped cause my brother said he will kick me if I don’t. Apparently all my convulsing and rolling on the floor was distracting him from watching a Manchester United game. Dude has priorities.



I checked with my bestfriend whose currently studying medicine in Ukraine and she told me that my reaction to the accommodations list is actually a quite common medical reaction. So common in fact that they even have fancy shcmancy Latin name for it. I would tell you the Latin term but I dunno how to spell it so let’s call it by it’s pedestrian name:




“OMGWTF-are-you-Aussie-fucking-with-me?!!$#^#@&!#$??-itis.”



It’s real y’all. It’s a condition experience by international students with the intentions of studying in Aussie upon finding out that in Australia the rent is by a weekly basis and the cheapest room the fucking university can suggest is fucking AUD190 a week. AUD190 bitches! Convert that to Malaysian Ringgit, now times that by 4 and that’s my monthly rent and then times that by 6 cause the shortest lease I could get is a 6 months deal. And since I know you people are lazy as hell let me do it for you.



AUD 190 = RM448



RM448 x 4 = RM1,792 (1 month’s rent)



RM1,792 x 6 = RM10,752 (6 months)



Almost 11k for a 6 months’ rent. Now you see why I was convulsing? Now you see?!! I don’t shit diamonds! If you’re thinking “Hey CD, I thought your family is like well off?” Yes my family is well-off. We are well-off, not filthy rich stoooopid. Our last name do not end with a “Hilton” or “Trump” okay. It ends with some common Malay name. Arrrggghhh!!! 11k for 6 fucking months. Now excuse me for a while…I need to go roll around on the floor a bit. I find convulsing and rolling on the floor strangely soothing these days.




11k. I cannot do to my Dad. I can’t. Need to find a cheaper place. So all chocked up on intense guilt and plague by an inner monologue that goes on something like this: “Tu lah, dulu lepas SPM dapat buat architecture kat UIA tak nak. Nak gak gi private college. Nak gak belajar overseas. Terhegeh-hegeh sangat. Poyoh sangat. Tengok skrg, apa jadi?” over and over again…..I decided to consult the Wise One. I called my sister in Finland. Woman did not answer the phone. I called her again. Still, no answer. In desperation, I went to the Not-So-Wise-One-but-Still-Okay…my brother. Dude was playing some damn football game on the PS3. Doesn’t look good, I can tell you that.



I told him of my predicament and he’s like



“Duuude, Craiglist Australia.”


“Duuude, no.”


“Duuude, you can find cheap rooms for rent there.”


“Duuude, crazy people hangs out on Craiglist.”


“Duuude, you should fit in then. Cause you know…..”


“Know what?”


“Well you’re my little sister……


“……..”


“Okay. You’re my sister and I say this with much love. Ummm, you’re kinda uuhhh….eccentric.”


“Yeah….so what’s your point?”


“Meaning if you’re already halfway crazy, what’s wrong with living with crazy people?”




He has a point. And I resent being called eccentric. Quirky perhaps, but not eccentric. I mean, so what if I still believe that my stuffed toys can communicate with me? Or that my car could possible be a transformer? Or you know….that one time I left a RM50 note in my jeans pocket and completely forgotten about it then one day the money fell out of the pocket and instead of reacting like any other normal person, I was convinced that money was given to me by Shoe Fairies that came into my room in the middle of night. This is a valid theory seeing that Shoe Fairies would totally know how much I wanted these super fabulous pair of shoes so they left me a RM50 note cause adopting shoes into a new home is a worthy cause. I mean….c’mon! Who here have never thought of Shoe Fairies?! Just cause you never heard of them or seen them, doesn’t mean they don’t exist……Wait you know what…on second thought my brother is onto something here.



For those who are not familiar with Craiglist….let’s just say that it is quite notorious. Perhaps the best way to describe it is to quote my friend Farid; “i mean think about all the ppl listed on craigslist. Employers, aspiring actors, hookers, hustlers, rapists, serial killers, paedophiles.” Exact quote. And really, Craiglist is notorious for being the source of all kinds of fuckery. I know this cause I’m addicted to the web and read Best of Craiglist for shit and giggles when I’m bored. I know. My life is so utterly fascinating that I leave you people breathless with my minute-by-minute description of it.


Beggars can’t be choosers, with that in mind I went through Craiglist.au trying to find a place that is quite near to my Uni. I found a couple of rooms that are within the AUD95-180 weekly range. I refuse to go higher then that. So I emailed them, tell them that I’m interested, a lil background info and hope that I haven’t somehow alerted a serial killer with a giant-ass-fetish of my existence. Cause if there is a serial killer with a giant-ass-fetish then I am completely fucked.



The next day I’ve received a couple of replies and you know what, the stories are true. Crazy people do go on Craiglist. I found this place, fully furnished…actually it’s an apartment and the homeowners are leaving the country due to work. They need a housesitter and the place is 20mins away from uni by bus. The rent is AUD110 a week. Not much seeing that when I go there the only thing I have to buy is food and I’ll be living alone in a sweetass apartment. No housemates issues. No privacy issues. They got a flatscreen TV so you know…..



The man wrote back to me and it kinda sounded like this:



“Ms. Drama, I think that we would be a good match. I like that you do not smoke nor drink and listed gardening as one of your interest. We have a little garden that needs tending too. Before we could proceed with anything I would like to interview you via Skype. That is the 2nd most important thing, the interview. The most important thing that my wife and I need to know before letting you into our home is….Ms. Drama, have you accepted Jesus Christ as your Lord and Saviour?”






Whoaaa!! Did not see that coming. Turns out he’s a Reverend, off for missionary work in West Africa. And the rest of his email was riddle with “missionary work”, “converting the ignorant” and multiple usage of the word “crusade”. Scared the crap out of me. I mean the hell am I suppose to say?




“No sir, I have not accepted Jesus Christ as my Lord and Saviour because I’m Muslim. I’m perfectly happy being Muslim as you are being a Christian. But really, must we put such a small thing between us? Can’t we just stand up and hug each other? Honestly, this is not such a big deal like what you are making it out to be so just relax and pass me your keys. I wanna chill at your sweetass place with the flat screen TV. Word to yo mother.



Salam mualaikum.”


The hell! I am not that insane okay. No offence to anyone but overly religious people scares the hell out of me. I don’t care if they’re Muslims or Christians or Buddhist or whatever else, overly religious people- no matter what their religion is, are scary. Fuck man. So I consider that one is a no go. Then I received an email from a girl. I think she’s like a hardcore environmentalist and a vegetarian.



“Hey CD!



Yeah of course the room is still available. But we’re here in this house are vegetarians. Absolutely no meat in the house. No eggs too. And if you have any leather “goods”, please do not bring it into the house. Also we do a lot of fun things here in the house. Every week we came up with new vegetarian organic recipes and sometimes we picket for animal rights. You can come join us if you want.



And oh have you eaten baby seals before? If you have then….this is going to be difficult but I would have to say no. People who eat baby seals are evil and if you’re eaten before then you are evil. We don’t want evil people in the house. Also stray cats come and go here because we feed them. Don’t want them to die of starvation in the alleys now do we? You can have a couple of cats and keep them in your room if you want.



So that’s all. Get back to me ya.”


Uhhhhhh, though this one doesn’t sound as crazy as the first one but still kinda crazy. I have not eaten baby seals but I don’t wanna live with fanatic tree huggers. Fuck that shit. And stray cats come and go on the premises? Dude, sounds like my aunt’s place and my aunt’s place smells like hell cause the stray cats shit everywhere. I don’t want to live in some cat poo dungeon with a bunch of crazy animal rights activist. Fuck that. Then I received another email that make me wipe my hands off Craiglist for all eternity. It’s from some guy named Jack*.


“Oh hello CD, I’m glad that you emailed me.


Yes the room is still available for rent. But it will be the only two of us in the house. I hope you don’t mind that. I work 9 to 5 everyday so I won’t be in your way much. There’s a BBQ and patio and you can use it if you want to entertain friends but just give me the heads up first.


Before we could proceed with anything, I need you to know that I am a nudist. I enjoy walking around the apartment naked. It’s nothing sexual, I just feel comfortable naked. I’m letting you know this because my previous tenant found this disturbing and moved out in anger. I don’t understand what was the big deal is. So I’m just letting you know in case you’re just as uncool as she was.


I walk around naked, you don’t have to be naked if you don’t want too. But if you want too, it would be better. Nudity is not such a big deal you know. We could be naked together.


So email me back if you are still interested.


Regards,

Jack.”




I fucking hate my Uni for rejecting my on-campus accommodations. And I fucking hate my brother too for suggesting Craiglist to me.

Tuesday, January 27, 2009

No, I will not chill.

So anyways, the reason why I am not updating regularly anymore is cause I am worried sick here regarding my accommodations in Aussie. Last Friday I received an email from the uni stating that I do not get an on-campus room so ever since then I have been looking for off-campus accommodations. The moment I received that email was the moment when the thought of being homeless stop being funny and ridiculous, and begun to become terrifying. So excuse me, but my mind is preoccupied these days with something more important.

 

However I will take this time to stop obsessing about the state of my homeless-ness and take a break from refreshing my inbox to check if anyone have email me a reply regarding my off-campus accommodation enquiries and address something that have been pissing me off. You know how you tell someone your problem and then you expect them to tell you something soothing or maybe an advice of maybe just you know, be there for you. They don’t have to actually do anything but be kind and considerate. This is what people do. This is why people have friends or significant other, for the comfort and security.

 

One of the most annoying shit to me is that when you tell people your problem and they reply it with this: “Chill chill.” What the fuck is that supposed to mean? I know those are just words, but they are the most fucking annoying words ever. I can’t fucking stand it. I think it is very rude and it’s pissing me off.

 

I dunno about you, but when I tell someone of my problems, the last shit I wanna hear is “Chill chill”. I know what you mean is “Relax”,  but why can’t you say that? By using that term you made my problem insignificant, something that is not worth your time, something you brush off because it is just some rantings by an idiot. If what you mean is relax, then fucking say relax. By saying “Chill chill”, I am not going to chill, I am going to go off even more. Where the fuck is your sensitivity? Who the fuck are you to belittle my troubles?

 

I would understand if you say “Relax, breathe.” I would, but really “Chill chill”? Seriously, I deserve better. Or maybe it’s just me. I am a Drama Queen and I am overly sensitive these days. However I still think that when I am crying and asking your support as a friend, you could have done more...said something else. You could done more then brushing it off as something insignificant. You could have said something better then “Chill chill.” 


You could have actually cared.

Friday, January 23, 2009

No prudes beyond this point

I stole this tag from Cheryl of Confessions of a Twenty Something Year Old. Cause I'm a tag stealer. That's right, a stealer. I supposed I could use the term "tag thief" but I kinda have issues with the word "thief" per'se...I mean what the hell is a thief, really? A person who bakes is a baker, a person who teaches is a teacher and a person who steals is a thief? How does that makes sense? I am opposed to that and from now on I will always use the term "stealer" cause it makes more sense.


So according to the tag that I've stolen, I'm suppose to post the 4th picture of the 4th folder from my Pictures document and here it is.



I personally think its artistic. Yes, it's sexual however it is not overtly so. They are both clothed and nothing is revealed but there's the anticipation...the excitement of foreplay. I like how there's an empty frame hanging on the wall. I think it's a symbolism that these two are not in a relationship but are two random, consenting adults giving into carnal desire. I also like the anonymity. Their faces are hidden making it easier for the viewer to give in to the fantasy. Random strangers, foreplay in a somewhat public place.....sexy.


Or maybe it's just a picture of a guy fingering a girl up against a wall and its pretty hot. All I know is that I'm so glad that the tag didn't ask for the 5th pic. Cause I can't even play the artistic card with that one. And bish plz, get off your high horse and stop pretending like you don't have shit like this on your computer too.



If your name/handle/nickname ends with "S", consider your ass tagged. And oh if you're scandalized by this post; feel free to call me names and predict my eternal damnation by hellfire in the comment box. I don't mind. I like the drama.

Monday, January 19, 2009

The Universe is teaching me a lesson by making me homeless


You guys….I think I’m gonna be homeless when I reach Australia. No, I’m completely serious. Homeless bitches, homeless! That’s why I can’t blog for the past few days cause I’ve been worried sick of my impending hobo status.


The university that I’m going to is supposed to provide accommodation for me. I put in the application late October, they emailed me mid-Nov saying that my form has been received and ever since then I haven’t heard a thing. Bitches, I’m flying off early February….and today is already January 19th. 19!!!!! I’m worried sick okay. I mean, I don’t have a plan B. It’s not like if I don’t live on-campus, I can get something off-campus just like that. What the fuck? The flight tickets been paid for, my things are almost sorted (I’m still debating the shoes thing), my parents is throwing a kenduri doa selamat for me next week and I don’t have a room!!!!



What bullshit is this?



You know I’ve emailed them twice in regards of the room. I don’t mind if they don’t give me a fucking room but for the love of all that is pure and true, just tell already whether or not I get it therefore if I don’t- I can start looking in for off-campus accommodation. What if I find an off-campus place and pay the deposit and those assholes over at the uni mailed me saying that I do get a room. Like wtf? Isn’t that a waste of money? Paid deposit for both places but I can only live at one. I am not made of money people. I do not shit diamonds okay. I don’t make 50k a month that I can throw money around just like that. I’m unemployed!



Them assholes are screwing with me.You know….I don’t mind if they just come out straight and send me an email somewhere along these lines:


Dear Ms. Drama,

Though we are glad that you have chosen our university to further your education and we dooooo love getting your father’s hard-earned money, we are afraid we won’t be able to let you live on-campus. Now we don’t want you to misunderstood that this means we like your money any less, it’s just that our rooms are small and we can’t find one that can fit your humongous ass.....shapely behind. The thing is Ms. Drama, we’re sure that somehow your…..shapely behind will not be able to fit through the door frame. We here hope that you do not take this personally.


It’s not us; it’s your giant ass.


Yours sincerely,

Dipshit McGee

Manager of Accommodations, UNIVERSITY OF FUCKERY


Although if they do send me this email, I will sue them bastards. Discrimination against people with giant asses is not openly talk about but it exists. Trust me, I know. But really, I’m for real here. I’m worried as fuck. I dunno about you guys but I am accustomed to having a roof over my head. What if I go there and I have to live by a dumpster or something? I’m taking my golden hamster with me. What if he meet the rats at the dumpster, join their gang and become wild? What then?!!! I will fail as a mother then cause my baby join a gang! I cannot have that. I will not let society judge my motherly skills. I will not.


But back to this homeless issue. I’m worried. Now I know there’s that saying…. “Worry will not add another minute to your life.” Yes, I know that. But the point is you’re not the one that’s going to be homeless. I am. Or have your precious golden hamster joining a gang of rats and terrorizing the whole neighbourhood while you sit by the dumpster worrying sick that your baby ain’t home yet while trying to write a 10,000 word paper due tomorrow at 8am. Stop smirking. This is a possible case scenario.


I also believe this-not-getting-a-room fuckery is karma. The universe is screwing with me cause I haven’t been pulling my weight at home. I’m such a bitch these days. Like I don’t make up my own bed or clean the table after dinner anymore and when my mom yells at me I go “Why are you yelling at me? I’m leaving soon and still you’re yelling at me?” and then I make this super sad face, like I-can’t-believe-you’re-yelling-at-me-when-I-am-leaving-soon-Don’t-you-love-me? Then she let me slide and I don’t have to do chores. After that I run into my room and laugh my evil Mojo Jojo laugh cause I don’t have to do the dishes. Reverse psychology is your friend…or so I thought. Until this room thing come about and everything makes sense. Karma.


Reverse psychology your parents + get out of washing the dishes = Homeless in Australia.


It makes total sense when you can get your head around it.....


The Constantly Dramatic One in a couple of months time...

Thursday, January 15, 2009

Nothing left to say


So here’s the deal peeps. I am going to stop blogging…………FOREVAH!!

 

Okay, not really. Just being dramatic. But no, I am not gonna stop blogging FOREVAH, just for a while. The thing is I have been losing momentum as of late and this blogging thing has been feeling more of a chore then something I actually want to do. Anyone who has been blogging for quite some time would have gone through this phase. It’s only natural.


I'm not saying that this is a hiatus. I'm just saying that there will be less frequent blogging. What's the point of blogging everyday when I'm gonna come off boring as fuck? 


Well the answer to that is none dude, none.

Monday, January 12, 2009

A Lesson from Animal Planet

Do you know that a male snake has two penises? Two.



No shit. I’m serious. I couldn’t sleep the other day so I was up at 3 in the morning watching Animal Planet (that’s right, 3 in the morning and watching Animal Planet- I am too fucking cool for words. I am soo fucking cool, I am like the Fonz of my generation), anyways….snakes have 2 penises. I dunno bout you guys, but that totally rocked my world. Understand that my world now consist of sleeping in till midday, midnight prank calls to my nosy neighbour and writing little haikus that make no sense and emailing it to friends such as this:


My ass is really big,

I blame my mother for it,

Cause hers is big too


Okay, so that’s a really lousy haiku. But what I’m trying to say is that it doesn’t take much to rock my world these days. If you would come up to me and say “CD! I had toasts for breakfast today” I would go “No way dude!! That totally rocks my world!” …………..Anyways back to snakes and their multiple penises.


Apparently snakes have 2 penises to maximize their chance of fertilizing a female snake….Apparently if there’s a low sperm count in one penis, then they gonna use the other one. Like how do you know if that penis has a lower sperm count than the other? How? To my knowledge, snakes can’t jerk off right? They don’t have hands. What do they do? Rub both of it on a tree trunk and get off? And then count afterwards? “Sssssss thisssss ooonesss hasssss moooreeeessss sppeerrrsmms thannss the others sssss, willlsss ussseeeessss thissss neeexxxtttsss timeees I gootss lucckysss….Sssssss”? What? Is that how they know?


And what if the snake has weak swimmers? Doesn’t matter which one he uses, that female he bangin with either penis will not get pregnant now will she? I mean, think about it. You can have all the money in the world, drive all the big cars and have 2 penises and still be impotent. How sad is that? Also what the show did not address was the size issues. Would both be the same size, or one is bigger than the other? Is it possible for the female snake to choose which one? Can she like “Ooohhhsss Edwarrddo-sssss, I wantssss that onesss, that onesss on the leftttssss. Yeeessss bebeh, I is a size queeeennsssss….” Can she? 


Female snakes got it lucky if you ask me. If the male snake is anything like a lusty/horny/stupid boy on prom night, wanting to lose it, he would be jizzing in his pants even before anything starts. I bet this would totally pisses off the horny-teenage-girl-snake and she be like “Whysss you be cumming before meeee foooolsss!” and then horny-teenage-boy-snake would go “It’s ookaaays, I got another onesss” and all is well.


Just sayin.


With that said....maaaan do I need to leave the house more often or what?


Update Jan 12 2008/ 11:03pm

Dude.....do they pee from both penises too? Do they take turns OR both penises can go at it at the same time?


Update Jan 12 2008/ 11:04pm

No....seriously.


Thursday, January 08, 2009

This post might or might not make sense. My bad.

Disclaimer: The following post was written while the Constantly Dramatic One was completely drugged out on flu/fever medication. It might or might not make sense to you. I wouldn’t know. It however made total and complete sense to me seeing that I was and still is, trippin all over the place.



***



I have this story on how my car acted up yesterday and that the alarm won’t stop going on and on so I had to send it to the mechanics and had to stay there for 3 hours waiting for it to get done and how like this big motherfucking rat came out of the gutters and ran right by my feet, and then I jumped and screamed like a banshee which all the dirty mechanics thought was hilarious so they laughed at me and then the chief mechanic told me to that there’s something wrong with my car’s alarm system (well no shit Sherlock, it’s been goin on and on right?) and that I have to change it. So I say changed it and that’s why I was at the mechanic’s for 3 hours amidst all the dirty cars, dusty accessories, polluted air and rat infested gutters. What the mechanic forgot to tell me was that the new alarm is like some fancy shmancy thingie where a robotic female’s voice would go “Arm” or “Disarm” as to remind you to lock the car.



So I got home at 7ish in the evening and then I parked my car and before I got the chance to lock the car, the female’s voice came on and I freaked out cause I thought there was a Pontianak hiding under the car and talking to me so I ran like a bitch and then I realized that pontianaks don’t hide under cars so maybe my car might be a transformer instead, like in the movie you know. So I went back to my car, but I did not take a peek at the undercarriage in case there was a pontinak hanging out there…then the female’s voice came on again and I thought “Cool, my car’s a female transformer. I will call her ‘Bianca’.” Belatedly, did I realise that it was just the alarm and I felt really stupid. And also my New Year’s resolution of NOT DOING STUPID SHIT has gone out of the window thanks to the Pontianak/transformers episode. 


As I walked towards my house, my nosy neighbour called me cause she saw me running away from the car and she wanna know why I did that. Nosy bitch. I can’t actually tell her that I thought my car was a transformer, can I? So I told her that I’m on this new fitness plan where you don’t workout for a long time but what you do is you suddenly sprint or jog on the spot really really fast, multiple times a day and then you can lose weight and build stamina. She looked unconvinced so I told her it’s totally the in thing now in Hollywood. It’s like the Atkins of fitness plans. Then she looked interested and told me that she wants to do it too. So I thought to myself “Great, I’m fucked now.” And now whenever I need to leave the house, I have to make sure that she’s not hanging out outside her house because apparently I have weaved my own tangled web of lies and I don’t know how to continue with it.





Then last night I got really sick, I started coughing and sneezing and I think it’s cause I was at the mechanic’s for 3 hours and that place was filthy. When I look at the tissue I realise that there is blood when I blow my nose and I got really scared cause now I think I’m gonna die. Like, seriously, blood on the tissue. I’m scared cause I know I’m going to Hell cause I barely pray and curse like a drunk sailor therefore in conclusion God hates me and will send me to Hell. So I took some flu pills and decided that if I’m drowsy enough from all the pills maybe I could die peacefully in my sleep. As I was drifting off I realise that I don’t want to die without letting people know that I love them. So I called my sister and told her that I am going to die cause there’s blood when I blow my nose and I have fever but before I go, I want her to know that I love her. But she didn’t hear all that cause she was at the market place buying fish and I thought how ironic that I’m going to die in my sleep, with blood coming out of my nose and Clive would never get the chance to fall madly in love with me and the one person whose supposed to be in contact with me before I leave this realm of mortality can’t even hear my parting words cause she wanna buy a damn fish.


So I said again “I’m going to die.” Then she asked “Oh, what colour?” And then I said  “Die not dye” and she said “Okay. What colour?” Then I gave up and tell her that I love her and then she said “I love you too, but make sure you don’t dye blond ya? Blond sucks with our skin colour.” And I dunno how that tip would be helpful in Hell but okay, I take whatever I can get. Then before I hung up she asked me


“Have it arrived yet?”


“What have arrived?”


“The bag?”


“What bag?”


“The Gucci bag.”


“Huh?”


“I got you a Gucci bag, from the Christmas sale here. It was like 50% off and it’s like last season’s but it is a Gucci and it’s pink and really cute and you would really like it. It’s totally you.”


“Wow.”


“Okay let me know when you get it ya? I love you babe. I have to go now.”


I’m still coughing, sneezing blood and feverish but I think it would really suck to die now cause apparently I have a last-season-50%-off-Gucci-bag on the way to me. I’m gonna put off death for a while till I get the bag and then only could I die happy.


Also, I love Ghendut.

Monday, January 05, 2009

Days of Bumming Around

It’s been 5 days since I saw the sun….in fact I can’t even remember how the sun looks like anymore. I think it kinda look like a frickin huge big ball of inferno right? I think. Time seems to stand still under the pleasant comfort of my blanket and the perpetual darkness within my bedroom.

 





Dude, my body clock is sooo fucked now, it’s ridiculous. I am sleeping at 8 in the morning, waking up at 4pm, takes another 2 hours to roll out of bed…..Seriously. Forget bout Malaysian time, I’m running...urrrm sleeping on Scotland time here. And the best thing about it is that I’ve never been to Scotland. Ever since college ended, I have taken laziness to a whole new level. I thought of finding a part time job, maybe waitressing but no one would hire my fatass seeing that I’m leaving the country in a couple of weeks time. No one wants to hire someone that could only commit for a couple of weeks. Waste of company’s money you know. So here I am, in bed, with nothing to do nor have anything to do.

 

 

Okay, lies. I have a shitload to do. I can start a scrapbook project, reconnect with old friends, learn how to cook and not burn the house down in the process…but that would require me to leave my bed. And put on clothes. Just too much effort you know. However, things have reached an all time low the other day when I was sleeping….it was like 3 in the afternoon. I can hear someone knocking on the door calling my name but I was just too damn lazy to even grunt in answer. I was like “Fuck it. I want to sleep.” Then I heard some kind of commotion outside the door, the jingling of keys and the next thing I know my Dad was in the room. “CD, are you alive? You haven’t been out of the room for 2 days!”

 

I totally get the drama gene from his side of the family. Totally.

 

 

Personally, I’m offended. My family only notice that I haven’t been out of the room after 2 days? Really? 2 days? If I was really dead, my corpse would be rotting there, eaten by bed lice while my bodily fluids seep into the mattress releasing a rotten odour that would forever ruin the ambiance of the room…all this is happening of course while my sprit is suspended in midair weeping in silence that no one have notice the departure of my soul from my sexy dead body….And there my spirit will always be. Suspended in midair, condemned to an eternal limbo of gloom for my death went on unnoticed, unloved, unappreciated….. Oh the injustice of it all! To be fated to be an emo ghost for all eternity! Ooohhh….

 

Okay. Moving on.

 

To make time pass faster, I decided to clean my room. Spring cleaning…like full out shit. Not just cleaning out a drawer but going through the whole entire wardrobe. At the same time I also decided that perhaps it would be most wise to start putting aside things that I want to take when I make my move to that other continent to futher my studies. See, the thing is I am moving to another country that on another continent. Most people would say “moving to another country”. I rather say “another continent” cause it sounds more dramatic. And here on Dramatic Musings, it is the law that we always chose the more dramatic route.


It took me 4 days to clean my room properly. 4 days. Who the hell would have known that I have some much shit, seriously? It’s like the blackhole of forgotten lost ear studs and beheaded Barbie dolls. And how come no one ever mentioned that I clearly owned waaay too many items of clothing in pink? Why didn’t anyone ever mention that my excessive wearing of pink makes me look like a mutated-walking-giant-marshmallow? With a humongous ass? How come? And why the hell am I only noticing this shit now? Seriously.

 

 

Also I put a lot of shit aside for my moving thingie. I mean….a lot of shit okay. I think I put aside so much makeup to take right…my brother took one look at the amount of makeup, gave me a look and said “CD, you’re going there to study. Not to become a drag queen.” Bastard. Also I want to take 7 pairs of shoes with me. It is crucial that I have shoes to suit all occasions. I mean 7 pairs out of my 37 pairs of shoes is fine right? It’s not like I want to take all 37……should I? Maybe I can ship it in afterwards....But my Mom says unless I wanna walk around naked with nothing but shoes on, I better rethink that. She says only one pair of stilettos, one pair of flats and one pair of sneakers. The woman is absurd. Does she want me to become a social pariah? Cause that's what I will be with only one pair of stilettos!! Well, is she?!

 

 

But now that I think about it right….maybe I am being ridiculous regarding things to bring……Like, now that I think about it….I think it’s not necessary to bring 3 different types of leave-in hair conditioner. Maybe just 2….. And uuumm….also unnecessary are my lavender-scented aromatherapy candles. And all 7 of the Harry Potter books. Also, taking Ghendut, my precious golden hamster across national borders would be illegal right? Okay…you know what I have to rethink this. I am so horrible at this. I always over pack everything. Thank God I started putting aside things earlier. Can you imagine if I only do it the night before I fly off? Duuudeee, I probably want to pack the living room carpet too.

 

 

On that note, I know that some of you Drama Lovers reading this right now are Malaysian students currently living/studying abroad. Like Faye (Seattle), Senorita (NZ), Liyana (Texas), Joshy (Indonesia), firsfc (US), Ojamoja (Pennsylvania)….and I think there’s a couple of Malaysian medical students over in Ireland and Ukraine reading this as well right? Also expats like Tine (Aussie) and Fieran Abhorsen (Norway), any thoughts? Tips? On what to pack and to bring? Now, I might be wrong but perhaps…the living room carpet is not part of it….? Let me know.


And oh wow, look at that. It's now 5 days into the new year and all I have done is sleeping in and hugging my pillow while delusionally make believe that it's Clive Owen. All in all, a good start to the New Year me thinks.