If you guys haven't noticed yet....Dramatic Musings is on an indefinite hiatus.
Tuesday, March 31, 2009
Thursday, March 19, 2009
Man it’s been a week since my last update. I am a really horrible blogger these days. I am up to my eyeballs with readings and assignments. The fuck man,
Mr. Clean irritates me. Well not constantly but he’s such a moody weirdo that it is fucking irritating. Have you met someone whose face seems it’s set in concrete and that it seems impossible for them to smile? That’s him. Sourpuss McGrumpy Face. It’s like living with Grumpy from the Snow White and the Seven Dwarves. Only he is not a dwarf. If he is I would have kicked him down the stairs long time ago. And then go down the stairs and kick him some more just for the hell of it.
He’s not a bad guy. Just too damn serious. It’s like he sucks out the mood of the room everytime he comes in. Before he arrives it’s like rainbows and birds chipping in the distance and Clive Owen were just about to leave his wife for me…but when he does arrive its like Death! Gloom!! War!! Completely suck the life out of everything. If he wasn’t studying to become a lawyer, he could have a steady job being one of the Horsemen of the Apocalypse. The fifth one that makes everyone else as gloomy as he is.
But the whole reason of this post is basically cause I am pissed.
Dude ate my fish. I bought one of those microwave dinner thingy right. Fish fillet thingy. Undeniably it will taste like crap but I am in no mood to cook tonight. I had 4 classes today, that’s 8 hours of class and then I stayed back for 3 more hours to do research at the library. I thought hey when I get home I’m just gonna eat that and then do my assignment and go to sleep. Thursday is a looong day for me. When I came home, my fish fillet was missing from the freezer. It was missing. The fuck? It couldn’t be my other housemate cause she’s vegetarian. It has to be him. So I went and knocked on his door and asked him about it.
He looked guilty as fuck.
“Ouuuu I did not know it was yours. I thought it was mine but I couldn’t remember buying that particular brand.”
“It’s mine. I have the receipt.”
“Oh wow. Oooohh I get you a new one when I go do my groceries shopping next time.”
“Sure. I guess I’ll just have apples for dinner tonight.” And then I walked away.
Bastard didn’t even said he was sorry. I didn’t eat apples for dinner though. I was just being dramatic and I want him to feel really guilty. Had instant noodles instead thanks to that fish thieving bastard.
Now I know this is not a big deal. And he is going to replace it. I know. But I had a long day, I am sick and tired of instant noodles and fried rice and I was looking forward to that completely unhealthy microwave dinner. Just damn irritating you know.
Mr. Clean just knocked on my door. He asked if I want a ride to uni tomorrow cause he got a car. He never asked me that. I think this is some sort of apology in his big shot law student vocab. I said no. Feel guilty you fish thieving bastard.
I hope he gets food poisoning tonight. Bastard.
Wednesday, March 11, 2009
Remember when I wrote in passing that a fucking giant lizard appeared at my feet? Well, it happened. Again. That son of a bitch was about 3 inches away from my right foot!! And if you’re thinking “Chill, it’s just a small lizard.” No you mofos, it ain’t a small lizard. Malaysians would know this as a “biawak”. Let me just translate that for you non-Malay reading/speaking readers. “Biawak” means motherfucking hugeass lizards. Okay it does not mean that. I made that up. You’re online. Google it.
So anyways, let me re-enact that faithful day in which I almost had a near brush death experience (ie: being bitten by a biawak). I was walking to class with the Malaysian girl I’ve mentioned before hereby will be known as Mini Skirts. Cause that’s what she wears all the time. Mini skirts, then she bitches about how cold the lecture hall is- much to my amusement. Anyways I was walking to the lecture hall with her. We’re not taking the same subjects but somehow both of our classes are in the same building so we just went there together.
See, the thing bout my campus is…is that it’s in a forest. Now imagine a preserved forest if you could. Think of the beauty of Mother Nature and the importance of preserving it. Now imagine, again if you could that they cleared a huge chunk of land in the middle of it and built a university. Like a little town of its own, in the middle of the fucking forest. That’s how my campus is now. It is all sort of creepy at night. My only consolation is that they don’t have pontianaks in
God, I hope that’s true.
Anyways back to the story, right so there are trees everywhere. Bushes, low hanging branches and little pathways in between buildings. FYI, there are exactly 81 buildings on campus. Having a lecture in Building 32 and then a tutorial in Building 68 right afterwards with only 10mins gap is a wwwwhole lot of fun. I’m still in the process of perfecting my speed walking skills. In the middle of walking towards the lecture, Mini Skirts suggested that we should take a shortcut. We could walk on the fully pavement way or we could cut across the little paths with the bushes. Cause I was too lazy to walk that much I decided that yeah, this was a good idea. And then the nightmare begun.
I was walking along the path, chatting about something or other, feeling the lovely autumn breeze on my skin and the rustle of my skirt against my knees and thinking to myself “Oh my, what a lovely weather. We never get it this lovely in
“Are you girls okay? Did someone attack you? Was it the flasher?”
FYI, apparently there was a flasher round campus area. Hiding in the bushes and jumping out at random intervals to flash girls. No dude, seriously. They sent out an email to everyone’s student email. Campus Security thingie. So I was like
“No no, biawak. Big fucking biawak. By my feet.”
He stared at me. Mini Skirts eyes were bulging out “A biawak attacked us?”
“Miss, what’s a biawak?”
“Ohhhh a lizard. Big fucking lizard. Black, with green stripes. Sharp teeth. OMG, so scary.”
“Ooohhh a Goanna. That’s allright. I thought it was the flasher. Oh lizards are fairly common round these parts. They’re allright. Won’t harm you one bit. Unless you have meat on you.”
“Why was it by my feet?”
“He probably wanted to get to class too.” Then he laughed at his stupid little joke, pats me on the back and told me that it’s all allright.
It was safe to say that I was traumatized by it all. Had nightmares that the biawak was eating my feet for 2 nights afterwards. Then over the weekend, Mini Skirts and I went to the museum. Yeah, the museum. Hey man, I have only been here for 2 weeks. I’m doing the whole tourist thing. And then there it was on the wall, a display of the same damn lizard that attacked me. Okay...maybe "attacked" is a strong word. Let's go with "ambushed". A display of a lizard that ambushed me. Much better. I found a person who works there and she actually went through some books to find some information for us. And here it is, it’s a Lace Monitor. And for your viewing pleasure this is how a lace monitor looks like:
Now tell me if you wouldn’t run screaming into the night if you saw that thing by your feet too. I mean fucking A Scott, I already have lizard issues as it is. And this mofo….according to the wiki page is venomous.
I am scarred for life now.
Thursday, March 05, 2009
I feel guilty. I feel like I am abandoning Dramatic Musings. I mean I used to do 3 posts a week like clockwork and now I can’t barely squeeze in a post a week or even answer comments. It’s not like I have nothing to write about. I have loooads. I have all this weird little details about Mr. Clean, I mean…he’s a creepy weirdo. Like seriously. Fucking weirdo.
Do you guys know of Ted Bundy? He was this murderer back in the 70es and he killed like 14 women but the thing is he was charming and such a gentleman that nobody suspected him. And then when he did get caught, there was all this books that come out written by his girlfriend and neighbours. About all the telltale signs that should given away the fact he was psychotic serial murderer. I feel like that living with Mr. Clean. I am not even making this shit up. I feel like…..years down the road I will be penning a book “My housemate is a serial murderer….and he makes me mops the floor once a fortnight” or something equally trashy.
What I’m saying is, Mr. Clean? Creepy weirdo. Trust me to get a creepy weirdo as a housemate. Could have gotten a hot surfer guy that prances around the house shirtless, but nooooo…..gotten a creepy weirdo, possible psycho murderer for a housemate instead. On the plus side, I made good with the neighbours. I have been here 2 weeks and I’ve already gotten tea and dinner invitations. In fact I just came back from my next door neighbour’s house. The lady’s a nurse and her housemate is this dude that works for a steel company. I dunno what he does really but they’re really nice and the Nurse Lady made lasagne tonight and she rang me up asking if I wanna join them for dinner. Fuck yeah I want to join. Free food maaan and it’s just next door. I don’t even have to dress up, just go there in my t-shirt and shorts and brought a bottle of Coke that I have in the fridge. Australians are totally laid back.
So yeah, I have loads to tell. I have all these stories bout getting lost in the city and walking 10 blocks up the hill just to find a bus stop. About getting hit on by some dude on the bus and he was soo annoying so I looked him in the eye and went “Sorrrrie. Mi speak no engrrish.” About getting lost in the campus and ran screaming my head off when a fucking lizard just appeared in front of my feet from a damn bush. That’s what you get when your campus is enclosed within a forest. About this girl who asked me if I believed in democracy, then block the door so I couldn’t leave and went on tirade for like 15mins on how “We as a nation, need to rise together and fight the power.” Then I told her that I’m not Australian and then she got confused so I used that opportunity to make a run for it. About getting talent scouted for some hippie radio channel that wants a new news reader “Hey! You’re international and you have a cute accent. Want to read the international news for us?” About this mixed up at the bank that they sent me 3 ATM cards at the same time. About my first time cleaning the bathroom (scrubbing the bathtub is such a goddamn bitch). About going on my first Australian bushwalking adventure and getting sunburnt. About salsa dancing with this Arab guy that kept trying to grab my ass. And especially this one story when I was at the campus café, sucking on ice and then one of the ice slipped and felt into my shirt and happily enough lodged itself between my boobs. It was fucking cold that it burns. I think I was screaming “Shit! It’s cold! My boobs” and then proceed to reach into my shirt to get the ice out. All this was happening while I was having lunch with this Taiwanese-Australian guy whom I just met and now every time he sees me he ask “Hey CD, wanna go for ice?” with a stupid fucking grin on his face.
Yeah…"great" start to the new sem in a new uni.
But the whole point of this post is to tell you guys that for some reason another, after a whole night of debating with my own self…I have decided to join a fitness class that will definitely get my ass whooped. I signed up for boxing class. Yeah dude, I totally did. And not any boxing class but “Intensive Beginners Boxing class”. I have always wanted to box for a totally stupid reason. Okay…..cause of a movie. How cheesy is that? No no, not Million Dollar Baby. It was actually this flop called “Kiss the Girls” staring Morgan Freeman and Ashley Judd. I saw the movie when I was about 15 and I’ve wanted to take up boxing since then. And now I’m in my 20s…that’s quite a long time to be wanting to do something. I just never got around to it cause I was afraid of getting punched in the face but then I thought hey man, I got all the way here on my own why not just go for it.
I’ve asked the instructor lady on why this is “intensive beginners” instead of “just beginners” and she went on with some boxing jargon that made no sense to me. But what made sense was “3 hours weekly training for 8 weeks” and “we’re keeping the class small so that we can concentrate on the intensity. Only 10 students at one time. No more. You’re number 10” and my favourite “Oh we’ll play nice in the first 5 weeks cause we’ll be ringside. But by week 6 we’ll move into the ring and there will be cuts and bruises”. I think there was a lapse in sanity on my part cause even after all that I still want to do it.
Then after signing up and paying the fees, she asked me why I wanna box. I could say cause Ashley Judd made it looked good in Kiss the Girls….but what I said was “I wanna do boxing cause I have deep seethed unresolved anger issues.” Which is true. I do have anger issues, that’s why I’m so bitchy. I was expecting her to laugh or something but she smiled and said “Aaahh, that’s the making of a great boxer.” I dunno whether that’s just a selling point or she says that to everyone but I’m looking forward to my first class next week. Maybe finally I can resolve my anger issues….. while getting my ass served to me on a platter. Ringside.