And hence....this became my dwelling

Hey ya!

 

Before anything else let me point out that Australian summer is hot like a motherfucker. Malaysia is hot and humid all year round but the sun doesn’t stings your skin. Here it does. And it burns bitches, it burns. But it’s okay cause I have always been obsessive in regards with putting on sunblock before leaving the house even back home so it’s all good. I haven’t got a hat but I walk around with the umbrella plus autumn is just round the corner. So yeah, that should be fine.

 

Seeing that I have been making so much drama in regards with the accommodations, it’s only fair that I should talk about it more. I decided not to go with the list of off-campus accommodations that the uni provided me cause it’s expensive as fuck. I found these sites though:

flatmates.com.au

au.easyroomates.com

realestateau.com

Back in Malaysia I utilize all these sites, but before that I Google Earth the shit out of my campus and I found the 5 main suburbs that surround the campus. From there I shortlisted it to within 5-10km walking distance from the campus. Then I keyed in the main postcode of the areas and from that I shortlisted the number of available accommodations for me. For about 3 days I sent out about 100 housing enquires; within the next 4 days I received about 50 something replies. Then I begun asking for photos and see what the best deal was for me. From that 50 something of replies, I shortlisted it down to 4 rooms that are within my budget and that is relatively near to campus.

 

Yeah I know right….some crazyass CSI shit.

 

So that’s how I found my room. And that’s why towards the day that I was leaving Malaysia I wasn’t blogging much cause I was busy writing email enquiries and setting up room inspections schedule. Also I did not come to Aussie on the 8^th alone. My parents and brother came with me. I didn’t mention that on the blog cause putting shit like “Oh my family will be coming with me to Aussie woo hoo!” is fucking insane. I’m paranoid as hell man. That’s telling the whole world that my house is empty and like “Oh, please come and rob us while we’re sending off our lastborn to Aussie.” Everytime I see that kind of shit on other people’s blog it made me cringe. People people, there is something as “sharing” and there is such as thing as “asking for it.”

 

Think about it.

 

We got here on the 8^th and the next day itself we went to check out the rooms. Let me just point out that Google Maps is a gift from the Gods of Mount Olympus cause seriously bitches, seriously, it made finding the houses much easier. The first house was my first choice. It’s actually a manor and it has 7 rooms. But I wanted the main bedroom that has a bathroom with a Jacuzzi bathtub in it. It’s awesome cause I don’t want to share a bathroom with like 10 other strangers. The house has already have a French couple living together in one of the rooms, a Singaporean girl, and Indian guy (from India, not Malaysia), and 2 other Australians dudes. So I should be the last one in.

 

I swear to God the moment I stepped into the house, I can already feel it. The party vibe. Like you can feel that this is where it’s gonna go down, this is where the magic happens, this is where numerous drunken escapades will go down in the history of mankind. This is where it’s at.

 

 

Unfortunately, my parents could sense the same damn thing.

 

Urrrghhh so that one is a no go. Which is such a waste cause one of the Aussie dude that lives in that house is a surfer and likes to walk around….shirtless….ahem. I mean…. I’m just saying. Not that some hot surfer dude walking around shirtless with a washboard abs you could spread whipped cream on effects my decisions making process. Of course not. I am a matured, responsible, 20something that is completely focused on studying and completing my international degree. I just think that it would be interesting to live in a house that is such a melting pot of cultures. Plus, you know….it’s not like there’s anything wrong with keeping a dozen bottles of whipped cream at the back of my closet. It’s completely normal.

 

No hidden agenda whatsoever. None.

 

Riiigghtt….moving on.

 

The 2^nd house was on a street quiet. It’s small, only 3 people could live in it at any given time. It’s very clean cause they have a duty roster and shit. The head tenant is an Australian and a law student from my uni and the other housemate is a Zimbabwean girl that just recently graduated, also from my uni. It’s very quiet but it’s quite strategically located about 10 mins walk from Target, hairdressers, post office and whatnot. There’s a direct bus to the main shopping centre too. The only thing is that there are not direct buses to uni. I have to change buses. It’s not far from uni, it’s just that…there’s no direct bus. Much easier if I have a car.

 

The head tenant, let’s call him Mr. Clean was talking to my parents and he dropped lines that’s sounded like this “My main priority is to study.”, “This is not a party house.”, “I don’t drink and smoke and I don’t want to live with people who do either and that’s why I was attracted to your daughter’s flatmates.com profile” and bla fucking bla. By the end of it I could see that my parents just fucking love him and that I am completely fucked.

 

In the car going to the third house they were all “Yeah, I like Mr. Clean. He’ll make sure that she studies. Bla bla bla” and I was like “Calm down people, 2 more houses to go.”

 

The third house, well the third house was incredibly funny. Now before anything else please remember that I am Muslim. Not particularly a good one, but one nonetheless. My mother on the other hand is pretty religious. I knew the moment I stepped out of the car that there’s no chance in hell I’m gonna live in this house cause the landlord was waiting for me with a bottle of cold beer. And then she’s like oh “Have a cold one while we go have a look at your room.” My mom’s eyes almost popped out when she saw the landlord lady handing me the bottle. I almost couldn’t stop laughing right there and then. The place was nice and I love the fact that there are actual vintage pinup girls on the wall, one of the main attractions by the way. But the kicker was she proudly told me- right in front of my parents- that there will always be free beer on weekends cause she would like to get to know her tenants over beer.

 

Oh you guys should have seen the look on my parents’ face. It was priceless. I will never forget it until the day I die. So I thank her for her hospitality and left. I don’t even have to discuss it with my family. I know there is no chance in hell of me getting to live there. But it was fucking hilarious. My mom’s eyes were popping out so much I was a lil afraid that her eyeballs would just popped out of the sockets.

 

The last house was nice, the room has a nice view towards the city and it’s also conveniently located as well. I kinda was digging it. Then the real estate agent told me that there are 6 rooms in the house and that all 5 are already occupied…..by men. So I would be the only girl. Just to make sure, I asked if there any surfers living in the house and he said no. Then I asked if there are any volunteer firemen….and he stared at me. So I took that as a no and politely decline on the basis that I would not be comfortable with living in a house with 5 men that are neither hot firemen nor hot surfer dude.

 

Priorities. I haz dem.

 

So you guessed it. I’m living in the house with the Australian law student hereby will be known as Mr. Clean- he does clean. Aaaaalll the time. And the Zimbabwean girl who hereby will be known as Dissapeara. Cause the woman is never home. And they’re both room dwellers. Plus side, I have Foxtel (Australian satellite TV) and IP phone that cost 20 cent to Malaysia per phone call. Not per minute. Per phone call. So that my friend, is awesome. Taking two buses to uni…..not so awesome. But I’ll get used to it.

 

Also I believe Australians are a bunch of horny bastards, cause within walking distance from my house there are exactly 3 “adult fun stores” with discounts for
“dildos and crotchless panties.” Three y’all. That’s walking distance. Further up the road, there are 3 more so yes from that I came to the conclusion that Australians are a bunch of horny bastards. I haven’t check out the stores yet cause I haven’t the time. My family left on the 14^th and Orientation started today and on the 15^th I was busy unpacking so no time. But when I do, you bet your ass I’m gonna blog about it.

 

Also, I wonder if they’re hiring. I wonder how my dad would react to this. “Hey Dad, I got a job. Yeah…..the cashier girl at a sex shop…….Well…..you’re the one who do not want to give me money…..”

 

Should be interesting….

This is a picture of the house I'm living in.....Okay....lies. This is some house in a Scottish National Park. I do wish I could live in it though...then I could pretend to be a hobbit....

 

 

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Also thanks to the people who “followed” me. I really appreciate it. You guys can unfollow now and it would be just fine. Also thanks to the people who emailed, sorry I haven’t got the chance to reply. Shitload to do here. A whoooole lots of things but I will eventually. Also those who tagged me before I left, I would get down to that as well and finally BIG HUMUNGOUS SHOUT OUT TO TINESH who looked after Dramatic Musings while I’m gone. Thanks man!

 

 

P/S: I will visit all your blogs when I could sometime this week. Too damn busy now seeing that its Orientation Week.