Heal me, I’m heartsick

They fuck you up, your mum and dad.

They may not mean to, but they do.

They fill you with the faults they had

And add some extra, just for you.

(Larkin 1971)

I’m upset. This may or may not be a big deal but it is nonetheless upsetting.

As a recap, in case you guys have forgotten the location of my family members are as follows: My parents are in Malaysia, my sister and her husband lives in Finland, my brother alternates between Chicago and Malaysia, I’m in Australia and together….we are….a Malaysian family. I just need to remind you guys of this considering the fact that its been a while since I blogged frequently.

So my parents have been making plans to visit my sister in Finland since like the beginning of the year. And I know all about their plans cause well, we’re family… supposedly where my mom would go on and on about how much she misses my sister and my sister would go on and on about how she have to clean the house up from top to bottom before my parents get there or she’ll get her ass handed to her- all via Skype. It’s cute really watching mom and daughter fretting about nothing. About a month ago my parents finalized the planning of the trip and they told me that they’re flying to Finland from KL via Frankfurt.

So I asked them, them being my parents, “How long is the transit in Frankfurt?” and my mom would go “Oh I’m not sure. I let your father handles all that.” And then when I ask my dad he’ll go “Oh I dunno, ask your mom. All those things are too complicated for me.” This coming from the man flies out of the country every other month for business. I thought it was kinda weird but I just let it be you know. My parents are both in their 50s and you know…old people are weird. Ahem. Then the night before they fly off I called my parents on the phone, not through Skype mind you, telling them to at least text me as soon as they get in Frankfurt. And if there is free wireless at Frankfurt airport, if I’m online we can chat…help them pass the time you know. My dad was like “Uh huh, sure”, all nonchalantly.

The next day I received a text message from my dad. It was in Malay but it goes something like this:

“Hey sweetie, your mom and I are already in Germany. Your sister and brother-in-law are meeting us here later. We’re going to have a one week vacation here before heading off to Finland. We all love you sweetie.”

Say what now?

I was completely flabbergasted. You know it is not going to be a good day when the first words that comes out of your mouth early in the morning, upon reading the text message from Daddy Dearest was “What in the fucking blue hell?” Nope, never a good day. At first I was just stunned, and then the realization hit me. They been planning this for months and none of them were going to mention it to me. WTF? The thing is I am not even remotely pissed about them vacationing in Germany without me. I mean hello, without my parents could I be studying abroad now in Australia? Not everyone could say that. Who am I to bitch just because I can’t join them in Europe when thanks to my parents I have traveled to other countries before this? I mean, its fine. My parents and my sister have not seen each other for a while, so what if they wanna holiday together. It’s kinda sweet actually. I’m totally cool with it. But what gets me, what really fucked me over is the whole secrecy part.

I mean, the fuck?

I don’t understand it. That’s why neither my mom nor dad could answer how long the “transit” in Frankfurt cause hello! There is no fucking transit in Frankfurt. I don’t get it. Why don’t they just come clean with me. I am 20…something years old. I mean, fucking hell, I live alone here. What, they think I’m still frickin 12 years old and that I would throw a bitch fit cause they were going to go to Germany without me? Throw me a frickin bone here people! I mean come on, gimme some credit. Jesus. So they known this all along, for fucking months and none of them could mention it to me. It’s not the holiday part that royally pissed me off, it’s the fucking secrecy part.

I feel like being in high school all over again when you walk on a bunch of girls talking shit about you, and the moment you show up they suddenly kept quite. Only this time around, it’s not a bunch or hormonal teenage girls lusting over N’SYNC, but my parents- the people who are supposed to love me the most in this mortal existence without reservation and prejudice.

My ass.

At first I was fucking pissed off but then when the anger gone away all that was left was this overwhelming pain. I’m hurt. I’m really hurt. I can’t explain the reason for it but I feel so betrayed by my parents. I feel…..so disappointed in myself that my parents have such a lowly point of view of my character….. that I am already 20something and I am living abroad alone taking care of myself and still they could not see me as an adult. They think so lowly of my maturity and my character that they treated this thing…of what was supposed to be a non-issue on my part, as if I was still a child playing in the sandpit. I mean, people, I am not a child. Have they seen my boobs? How could anyone not see my boobs? My rack is the type of rack that you write home about so don’t tell me they don’t notice it. Do they think that kids have boobs like this? Huh? Huh? Why can’t they be straight with me? I don’t care about Germany. Not only that they think of as a child and immature but also, materialistic cause this what this is about. How my parents, ultimately view me as person.

That I am immature, materialistic and whose opinions are not worth being heard.

And that hurts. That hurts me more then when I dislocated my knee, hurts more then when I fell off the stairs and tore my lips, and it hurts me more then when Snape dies in the 7^th book- and people I cried for two days straight cause of that and went on to wear black and do not wash my hair for a whole week as a tribute to his sacrifice. That shit was heavy. Rowling was heartless towards the end.

But no, this….deceit from my parents hurts more then all of that combined and then some. I could honestly say that from now on, nothing could ever be the same between me and them anymore. The veil have been lifted from my eyes and I see them for what they are:

Deceitful, condescending and inadequate as parents.

So...umm....FML

He’s gay!!!'

He’s gay!!!

Remember Geek Boy, who played me like the fool that I was…..and then he wanted to meet me and then I stood him up? He’s gay!!

He’s gay!!!

The guy that I was smitten with and picked over a military man, who is hot and who wanted to fuck me 7 ways till Wednesday, is gay. He’s gay!! I was so into this guy. I was so messed up when he played me. I didn’t cry though, thank God. The moment you cry over a man, huney, you lose. But still, I was really messed up. And now I found out. He’s gay.

Oh my god!!

No wonder I was rejected!! I don’t have a dick. You guys know what this means right? It’s not me he rejected. It’s my lack of dick!

Okay, okay…let me just take it from the top.

I have a MSN. And even though I deleted him off my list, the dude is still on my network. My MSN network. And I was looking at my MSN network and I saw his new updates and it went something like this

“Woo hoo! Having a great time in San Francisco!”

First of, the fuck is doing in San Francisco? Right. So I buzzed a mutual friend of ours…who did not delete his Facebook page as I did. A bit of pleading, a bit of bribing and then I got my friend’s Facebook password so that I can go snoop around Geek Boy’s page, under my friend’s account.

So he is in San Francisco. He transferred his final year credit and doing it there. Fine. Whatever. Not that I am jealous or anything like that. Cause I never been to San Francisco and always wanted to and now he’s there. Fine, whatever. Then I look at his photos. And there are a lot of photos of him with one guy. Hugging. Sitting together. Partying. Just that one guy. Okay, say bromance or whatever…but it looks more then platonic okay. It looks more like Frodo Baggins and Samwise Gamgee "platonic" bromance. It looks………………..different.

Curious.

So I went to his info page.

Interested in: Relationships with men and women. And then like 5 groups about being bisexual.

Ladies, just like Carrie Bradshaw said- being bisexual just means you’re not ready to come out fully out of the closet yet. And the clincher, he’s on Level 4 of the Supermodel game. No self respecting straight man plays that game. Even I don’t play that game.

Am I reaching here?

And then all his little quirks and the conversation came back. The overtly neat things, the interest in theatre, and the fucking tight pants and oh this one time he told me:

“Oh I’m kinda weird. I like a lot of things that women like. I guess that’s why we can get along so well.”

…………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………….

Yeah, take your time. It took me half a year to figure it out. And henceforth, I shall rename myself. I will no longer be the Constantly Dramatic One. I will be “the Dumb Beyatch who Dates Gay Guys”.

Jesus fucking Christ, how could I not see this? Why was I so blinded? Am I reaching here?

I had a thing for a gay dude…or at least a sexually-confused dude AND THEN at-least-sexually-confused-dude played me and now, he’s in motherfucking San Francisco having butt sex with some American and waving the gay pride flag during Mardi Gras!

This is bullshit. My life is bullshit. It’s a whole lot of bullshit that been thrown together and labelled as my life.

But hey, at least it’s not me. I mean, it’s not my fault I’m not a gay man. And have awesome tits and a working vagina instead of a dick. If I ever meet him again…I will let him know that what happened was okay and give him a hug….and then we can go shopping together.

After all….every fag needs a hag.

So...yeah.....awkward....

You know what is ridiculously awkward?


Hot is when you went out for a night of partying with your friends and saw a really hot guy….and then ended up having eye sex with him the whole night.


Ironic is that despite having steamy eye sex with him all night long….nothing actually happened.


Ridiculously awkward is that about a week later, when you are looking like absolute shit because:

a) You woke up at 6am to go to the morning market…
b) Did not shower or even wash your face cause the market will close soon and you really want that 50cent packet of carrot…..
c) Wearing an oversized shirt that has a giant Minnie Mouse on it…which is in fact what you have slept in the night before, with a pair of 3 quarter jeans….
d) And c’mon, seriously! Who looks good going to the morning market?


….when you bumped into him.


The hot dude. Whom you had eye sex with all night long.


It’s like the figurative “morning after". But from Hell.


However, you have forgotten all about you looking like shit cause you are completely thrown by the fact that he is the dude….that is selling you your 50cent packet of carrots.


Then the realization hit you:


You had eye sex. With a dude that that sells carrots for a living. In the morning market.

Ooops!

He too recognizes you and smile. But you didn’t and pretended that you did not recognize and hurry the fuck out of there before the friends you came with to the market, who went out to party with you days before realizes this little trivia and Never. Let. You. Forget. It.


So yeah, in case you guys do not know what is ridiculously awkward- that is ridiculously awkward.

Fool me once...shame on you

Remember when I wanted to be a “playa” and dated 2 guys at the same time? Yeah….remember that?


Yeah……that blew up in my face.


Bigtime bitches. Bigtime.


So here is the story. The Lieutenant would not be part of it. Long story short? He just wanted to fuck me. I do not want to fuck him. The end.


I mean he was hot and all….but nah. Despite all the kinky, sex talks on this blog….the Constantly Dramatic One is not that kind of girl. I don’t have sex/boink/bang/sleep with/fornicate with men for fun. It’s long term relationship or nothing at all. So I dump his horny ass as soon as he started putting the pressure on me. I was like “What the fuck, buttmunch? Put some lotion on it and leave me the fuck alone.”


Okay, I might not have said those exact words. I kinda said “It’s not me. It’s your horny ass. But with some rehab, maybe we could be friends afterwards ya?”


Okay, I did not say that either.


Point is, The Lieutenant and I? It did not happen. It would not have happen. Cause he was just my plaything. I kept him around for the kicks…and the attention. Other then that, nothing really. Cause when everything have been said and done…it has always been Geek Boy from the beginning. It always has.


Until that blew up in my motherfucking face.


So remember how I had like this wonderful first date with him? Full of cuddling and unspoken frustrations accumulated over the months when we pretended to be only friends and nothing more when in truth…we have never been only friends. There has always been something there. Or perhaps it was just me, confusing reality with fantasy. Wanting it to be so much like the books I’ve read and the tales I used to write of lost love and unspoken desires during my teenage emo years. And sometimes still do.


So the date was on that Tuesday. During the date I’ve asked him why it took him so long to ask me out but he kept quite. So I dropped it. Then that night he texted me. I can’t remember what he wrote exactly but it sounded kinda like this


“Even though I really like you and I feel that you do like me too….its still hard for me to ask you out cause I have no real self confidence to begin with. So that’s why it tok me this long. But I’m glad I did though. I had a great time with you today.”


Or some shit like that. The actual part that I actually remember was the self-confidence thing. Then we texted for a while and that was that. The next day, he didn’t call. So I was like, okay…maybe he is playing it cool. The day after that, nothing. So I told myself, maybe it’s a guy thing. Maybe it’s this. Maybe it’s that. Bla bla bla. However by Friday when I did not hear anything from him, I was flat out agitated. I mean it was bullshit. We had a great time. We’ve cuddled bitches! What the fuck was goin on? Then, I called him. It was that Friday night and I really wanted to know so I was like “Fuck all. I’m gonna call him.” Which I did.


You know how it takes like oh….I dunno 10 rings before the phone goes into voicemail? Yeah….guess what? When I called him that night, it rang like twice and it went straight to inbox. Yeah…..fucker rejected my phone call. It was….well for lack of a better word: unbelievable. By this time I do not have to tell you guys that I was all kinds of messed up. I was upset and confused….I was like “Was it me? Did I say something wrong? Did I scare him? OMFG it’s me.” Self doubt is not something I’m prone to do but somehow he was making me do that. And it sucked so much donkey balls.

Then after much consultation from my girlfriends, both in Aussie and in Malaysia, I decided that the best way to deal with this fucking MIA shit he is pulling after the first date is to call him again. So I did. On Saturday morning. I need to know what happened. I have prepared for it to be rejected again and to leave like a non-threatening, non-pathetic voice message when the unpredictable happened: He fucking answered the phone. So I was like playing it cool.


“Oh hey, how are you?
“I’m good.
“So um like, are you sick or something?
“What? No? I can’t speak right now. The game is going to begin in like 10 mins.
“What game?
“My soccer game. I’ll call you back.”


I forgot that he plays soccer/football (depends on which side of the world you come from) on Saturday mornings. So I was like “Oh okay, he’ll call back.” Right? Riiiight? Of course he will.


I was such a goddamn fool.


So I worked on my assignment, did the laundry, vacuumed the floor…all with the phone by a hand’s reach. Waiting, waiting….waiting. Somehow the phone had become my enemy. The longer it doesn’t ring, the more I despise it. At this moment I was sad and confused and hopeful but by the time 7pm roll around and I’m sure that he isn’t gonna call, all that shit turned to full on rage.

Who the fuck does he think he is? What does he think he’s playing here? It doesn’t take a scientist to figure out that I got played. Either way you cut it: I got played. I got played by a fucking geek. So now I’m pissed. I’m done feeling sorry of myself. I’m done thinking its all my fault. Fucker have a problem and I intend to let him know it too. So I called him again that night, twice. This time I wasn’t worried that I would come across as desperate and/or pathetic. This time I just wanna yell at him and to shove it up his ass. But of course, he did not answered his phone.

Motherfucker.

I was left fuming with no outlet. I wanted to wring his neck. Fucking run him over with a truck. Just fucking kill him. I wanted him to die. But he’s not answering his phone. He left me hangin. Bastard. Bastard. Bastard. On hindsight, I’m glad that he did not answer his phone cause revenge is a dish best serve cold and that’s precisely what I did.


I know that whatever happened I will see him the next Saturday. Cause we have an exam together. I know. I also know that the best revenge when it comes to this is to look as good as possible and let him know “Yeah…you see all this? Yeah. You ain’t gonna have this.” So Saturday came and I had formulated a plan. The final exam carried only 30% of the class mark; I have already gotten a credit for that class without the exam so I’m all set. It was a fucking exam. My usual exam ensemble consists of jeans, flip flops and a hoodie. Not that day though.

That day I put on this maroon dress that I look fantastic in, 3 inch high-boots and a cardigan. I showed no skin except for the space where my dress ends and my boots begin. Very simple, yet fetching. I’m keeping it classy. Now I know for a fact that I look good. You don’t plan on an outfit a fucking week and not come out looking good.


The exam was 2.30pm. I know, him being a geek would be there early. Like an hour earlier in the waiting hall. So I had to come later and I have to make an entrance. Which I did. I only get into the waiting hall round 2.10ish. I went straight to my friends but I took my time at it. He was in the hall, and I want him to see me. Drink it all in bitch, cause you never gonna have it. Then I sat down with my friends and all the while I felt someone looking at me and I turned around and he was looking at me. With this hopeful and kinda scared look. Then he smiled. I did not smiled back, I did not gave him a dirty look….I look through him and looked away. It’s like I did not know him. He’s too low to be even worth one of my dirty looks. Fucker looked way scared at this point, I can assure you that.

Then the course convenor called the students in and I went in first. Now when you enter the exam hall, you are required to fill in the front seats. I know that if I were to go in first, he would wait later to go in cause he is avoiding me. I know that when I sit in front, he would be looking at me and not the other way around. Which is the plan. Then before each exam starts, the course convenor would ask if everybody is sure they have their phone off. Those who do not; have 2 minutes to do so. Now I know that I have offed my phone. I know this. But the fact is I was sitting 3rd row from the front. He was somewhere at the back. So I stood up, took of my cardi- to show off how low cut the dress is at the back- and then proceed to strut to the other end of the room to pretend to check on my phone. I know he was looking. The plan is for him to see me. 100% visibility. Not the other way around.

Mission accomplished.


I checked my phone right after I ended the exam. And it was no shocker that he texted me. Two messages.

1) I hope you did great in the test.
2) I’m sorry I didn’t call back. I was really busy. I just realize that I am way behind my studies! I know you’ll be mad but I’m gonna try anyway.


Seriously, what fuckery is that? “I’m busy?” You motherfucking piece of shit. You have time to wake up at 7 in the fucking morning to go play soccer on a fucking Saturday and you have no time to fucking text me or call me back? You have time to eat and sleep and you have no time to fucking text or call me back? You have time to fucking take a dump and you have no time to fucking text or call me back?


Buuulshit.


Bish plz. As if you were studying 24/7 that you couldn’t possibly tear yourself away from the fucking text book and fucking pick up the phone and just fucking tell me that you can’t talk cause you’re busy. Okay, bitch? I dunno what the fuck his issues is, but somehow it became mine. With that final text I decided that I’ve won. This time, I’m the one that gonna ignore him. I planned it all. And I planned it well.


What I did not plan was for him to be waiting for me outside the exam hall. I was expecting for the text messages or maybe a phone call but not him waiting for me. That took me by surprise. He was waiting for me and he has this hopeful look on his face. I should have acted nonchalant, but because that took me off guard I kinda gave him a weak smile and kept on walking. I did not walk towards him but away- towards the busway. And he walked with me all the while he was going on and on about how busy he was and that he was sorry and that he knows that I’m mad with him…..but I kept on walking. I did not say anything. I was just thinking how ironic it was that we were walking the same path we walked so many times together, when we had fun, when we flirted, when he carried my books and to this.


To this bullshit.


I don’t really remember what he said, but I wasn’t really listening. I was busy being sad and angry at the same time when we reached the busway. I stopped walking therefore he did too. I looked at him and saw the reason why I liked him so much. Even after all that, he’s still very attractive to me and I said….and I’m not proud of it and I did not planned it….it just came out. I said….

“Please never ever speak to me again. And no, let’s not stay friends either.”


Harsh? I know.
Did I plan it? No.
Did it hurt him? Yes, it did.
Did it hurt me? Even more so.


I didn’t realize how hurt I really was until I said that. And then I walked away. He didn’t come after me. Would you after that? He did call me that night. Calls which I rejected- just to let him have a taste of how it feels. And 2 days later I left for Malaysia. I deleted and blocked him on MSN and Facebook. I deleted all his number and messages on my phone. I don’t want to have anything to do with him anymore.

I went back to Malaysia and then to Finland and I got my head cleared. I deserve better. I don’t know what the fuck his deal was but I deserve better then to be played like that. It wasn’t like we were together. It was just a bullshit phase in my life. I got back in Aussie, moved into a new place and I figured that I’ll start this sem fresh.


Then 2 nights ago, he called.


I didn't know that it was him till I answered the phone. I’ve deleted his number and I didn’t memorize it. We talked, he ask me how I was. How did I do for the last sem. How was the holiday. And then he asked if I can meet him this coming Tuesday. I figured that we are both adults, I can bury the hatchet. So I said okay, I’ll see him on Tuesday. It wasn’t until I put the down the phone did I realize how bad of an idea this.

I mean seriously. I thought I was over this but the fact that all I could think of right now is how much I want to slap him when I see him pretty much shows that I am not ready for this. It’s either slap him or push him into incoming traffic. Either one would make me a convicted criminal and get my visa revoked. Which is no good.

So I’m gonna cancel on him. But I’m only gonna let him know that like an hour before we are supposed to meet up. Let him look forward and be excited all about it for days….and then finding out it’s not happening an hour before. The way I see it, if he wanted me in his life he would have made an effort the first time around. So fuck it. I’m done.






I’m not gonna let him pull the same shit again on me.

Bish plz, you don't want to be messin with my homegirl now....

My life has now been reduced to fighting with 13 year old girls.

 

 

Seriously.

 

 

See, my family and I are close with our neighbours. One family in particular. My dad is best friends with the well…the neighbour’s dad. When my dad wanted to start his company back in the 80s, it was the neighbour who lent him the capital he needed. We have been living in this neighbourhood for 19 years…and so has our neighbour. He got married late though so his kids are years younger then my siblings and I. Nonetheless, those kids grew up running in and out of my house.

 

 

I practically watched them grow. I’m kinda close with the eldest one. I used to help her out with her homework back in primary school, take her and her siblings for movies and babysit…for free. I don’t like kids, but I make an exception for these kids. After seeing them day in and day out…..them kids just grew on me you know.

 

 

So Clara* is 13 years old this year. The first year of her secondary school. And as fate has it, her parents have taken her out of her co-ed primary school and transferred her into an all-girls secondary school. I am a veteran of all-girls primary AND secondary school and being thrown into all-girls secondary school at the age of thirteen where all the crazy hormones just started acting up is not easy. I’ve been there. And so have you. And to top it all….Clara is well….geekish. She’s tall you know for her age, about a head taller then everyone else in her class. She’s tall, lanky, slouches a bit and wears glasses. You know the type. There’s nothing wrong with being geeky of course…later in life. But a geek at the age of 13?

 

 

It’s a fucking death sentence.

 

 

Clara came over to hang with me over the weekend. So were in my bed exchanging stories and I noticed that she kept on changing the subject whenever I asked her about school. After a while I got sick and tired of probing and I was like “Fuck investigative journalism” and asked her point blank what the fuck is up. Then she started crying. Like seriously, we’re talking the quite kind of crying. No hiccups, no drama just like this never ending stream of tears. I freaked out! I was like “Motherfucker! What the fuck? Does she have cancer? Is that the big secret?!! Bloody hell, I should not have asked! I cannot deal if she has cancer!”

 

 

But outside I was all cool and I was like “What’s wrong babe? Tell me.” All the while hoping it’s not cancer…..cause you know. She’s 13. That would totally be fucked up.

 

 

Then all these stories came out. These three 13-year-old skank whores have been picking on her since the beginning of the year. Calling her names, telling her ugly to her face, pushing…elbowing her in the halls and in class when she’s getting to her seat so she’ll trip instead. They whisper behind their hands as she walked by. All these hideous, adolescent, mind game, bulliying fuckery. But what she kept on repeating again and again was that these whores call her ugly. I think that really cut into her self-esteem. I mean I know. I was bullied. I was bullied cause I was fat. I am still fat. I was bullied when I was 5, 6, 7, 8 and 9. That’s 5 years of fuckery before I became a total badass when I was 10 and beat up the kids who bullied me. No really.

 

 

I. Beat. Them. Up.

 

 

I was 10, they were 12 and I beat them up. And I kicked one into the drain. Cause he was on his bicycle and he was mocking me so I went over and kicked his bicycle which happened to be by the drain so asshole and his bicycle both fell into the drain. I beat another one with a piece of wood. Asshole was asking for it. True story. I’ll blog about it someday.

 

 

So yeah. Me. Badass.

 

 

So by the time I hit 13, no one messes with me. Clara clearly, has not achieved the badass status that I had at her age. So she cried and I listen. And I remember all those years when I was bullied…you don’t forget this shit you know. I was picked on because I was fat. She’s being picked on cause she’s tall and lanky…and geeky.

 

 

Same shit. Different era.

 

 

It was with that thought that I went to her school yesterday, on Monday. I actually cancelled plans I made to watch the new HP movie with my friends so that I can go to her school during recess. You don't mess around with my homegirl and think you could get away with it. I made a point to dress up. I wore this maroon dress, 4 inch high heels and made sure the make up made me look older then I am. The point to drive home here was :

 

 

“I am a woman. You are 13-year-old skank whores. The End.”

 

 

I went there during recess so that Clara can point out the miniature bitches to me….and then I waited for them after school. No point causing a scene during school hours. We all could get in trouble. So I waited and just like Clara said, all 3 of them came out together. I went over with a smile and introduced myself. I was like

 

 

“Hi, I’m CD*…that’s Kak CD to you.”

 

(For those not in the know, “Kak” means “older sister”, it’s a term of respect we used here in Malaysia to address a female that’s older then you.)

 

“How are you girls today? Good?”

 

 

By these time, them miniature bitches were like taken aback by me. So I went on with a smile on my face.

 

 

“Can you guys see that girl standing over that red car over there? Yeah, that’s Clara. I’m sure that you guys know her cause the 3 of you have been bullying her since the beginning of the year. You know….pushing her around and calling her names?

 

 

“See…when she told me that you guy have been calling her “ugly” and “buttface” and whatever else….I was imagining that the 3 of you would be like these hot shit you know. That’s why you girls could go around calling people names cause you are just sooooooooooo attractive. But now that I actually met you guys…..I’m surprised that your parents did not kill you at birth.

 

 

Seriously. Have you guys looked into a mirror lately?”

 

 

Should have seen the look on their faces. It was a mixture of panic and shock. So I went on.

 

 

“See I have known Clara all her life. I watched her grow. She’s like my little sister and frankly I don’t like hearing all these bullshit I have been hearing. Seriously, would you like it if I call you Acne Face to your face?”

 

 

One of the girls has a serious case of acne.

 

 

“Not very nice now is it?”

 

At this point one of the girls opened her mouth to protest....but I held up my hand and gave her a look. Not when I’m talking bitch.

I'll Crucio all of them. Miniature skank whores.

 

 

“So here’s the deal. Stop this fucking bullshit right now. If you don’t….I’m not gonna go to the teachers. That’s soooo highschool. And I am over highschool. I am going to go to your house instead and speak personally to your parents. I have lived here longer then you do. I know people. And trust me….it’ll be easy to find out where you live.”

 

 

This is of course bullshit. I don’t know that many people. And I don’t think I will be able to find out where they live…but hey it’s not like these miniature bitches know that. Also by this time, one of them have started crying. Man…I feel bad for that. But you don’t go around bullying people and not be ready to face the consequences.

 

 

And then I pointed at Clara again.

 

 

“That’s Clara. Know her name. It’s not “Slouchy”, it’s not “Ugly”, it’s not “Buttface” or all these other unimaginative lameass names that you gave her. It’s Clara.

 

Learn it.”

 

 

And then I walked away.

 

 

When I think about it now, I should have made them apologize to her but I didn’t. Also while this was all going on, Clara was being all scared and staring at her feet. I wish she would have given them skanky miniature whores dirty looks or something. I guess growing a backbone takes time.

 

 

I’m worried though. I’m worried that these miniature bitches would retaliate. Cause kids these days are not like kids back then you know. And if that happen, I won’t be around cause I’m flying back to Aussie next Monday. I told Clara if anything was to happen she should go straight to the principal.

 

 

I do hope this is the end of it though.

 

My tangled web of lies

So uuuhh….I think I might have fucked up BIGtime this time around.

 

Before anything else I think y’all should know that I am majoring in Journalism. So that’s what I am studying over here. I wasn’t going to actually give out that piece of information on my blog but it is crucial to the story I am about to tell.

 

Now I bet you’re wondering why I am doing Journalism, no it is not because I want to be a journalist. I think journalism and print media is a dying art what’s with the coming of the internet. No one buys the paper anymore. No, I am merely using this as my stepping stone to become a screenwriter one day. I already have 2 scripts in the process. I have good ideas, it’s the character building that I am having issues with. However Journalism is fine by me. I know that whatever I ended up as in life, it would have something to do with writing. Other people go out clubbing for fun. I write. For fun.

 

So today was my compulsory Orientation for commencing Journalism students. It was sort of like a meet and greet with the members of the Journalism faculty. So I arrived late because I couldn’t find the room that it was held in. My campus is fucking huge; I need a map to get around. So when I stepped in, like 5 mins late there were already 30 something students in there. And I noted right at that moment, I was the only one who wasn’t Australian.

 

Interesting.

 

So I smiled at everyone and sat down, second row from front. Now see when you are the only one who isn’t Australian in the whole room, arrived 5 mins late and was wearing a bright red shirt with a huge ass Victoria’s Secret in diamante spelled across your…ahem, ample bosoms….you tend to attract attention. I’m just sayin. I noticed that a couple of lectures were already eyeing me. This does not bode well.

 

So we went through the program structure and then it came to the session where they randomly select students to say why they choose Journalism. So a couple of students were “Ooouuuu I wanna do journalism cause I wanna write scripts. Bla bla bla”, a bunch of surfer dudes who went “Yeah I want to take journalism cause I wanna write music reviews…yeah”, and then this bimbo who sat behind me said, out loud, to all the lectures that she wanna do Journalism cause she loves Sex and the City and she wanna be a columnist just like Carrie Bradshaw. Cause the fictional Carrie Bradshaw, is her idol.

 

 

Bish. Are you kidding me?

 

 

I don’t care if she is your idol. But the hell, you don’t say that in front of the whole faculty. The hell. And I thought the bimbos in Malaysia were bad. Then one of the lecturers looked at me. I knew what was coming.

 

“What about the young lady in the red Victoria’s Secret shirt?” She totally said that. “Whereabouts are you from?”

 

“I’m CD and I’m from Malaysia.”

“Oouuu that’s exciting. We rarely get international students in Journalism. Why don’t you come up here and tell us why you are doing Journalism.”

 

Please note that when all the other students were saying their bit, they were sitting down and not standing in front of the class. However, luckily unlike most people I know, I have no problems with public speaking. I actually kick ass at public speaking. So I went in front of the room, smiled and

 

 

“Well, once again, I’m CD and I’m from Malaysia.”

 

 

Now at this point I realise that I can say like so many others that the reason why I’m doing journalism is cause I wanna be a scriptwriter. But then that would be boring. They called me out in front of the class for a reason. They wanted a show. So I gave them a show.

 

“The reason why I want to be a journalist is because; personally I believe that journalists are the people who hold society together. They are the ones who bring the news to the people, the public and without them no one would know of world affairs. It’s more of a calling to me, then an actual career path. Especially from where I come from, there is no such thing as media democracy. It comes to the point that every media outlet are controlled by the government and every news and information are spinned the way they want it to be spinned. So when I become a journalist, I would make it my sole purpose to bring truth to the people and help end this subjugation by the government and hopefully make media democracy a reality in my country.”

 

 

Yeah. Top that Carrie-Bradshaw-wannabe-bimbo.

 

 

When I stopped talking, everyone looked impressed. And it occurred to me that bullshitting my way through in front of the whole faculty is a bad idea. But the hell, I’ve already said all that shit. Then one of the lectures went “Aren’t you afraid of being jailed?” The answer to that is of course I am. Whose not afraid of being jailed? But what I said was

 

“I’m not gonna say that it does not scare me. It does. However the way I look at it, change cannot come just like that. It has to be fought for. Sacrifices have to be made. And if that means being jailed then yes, I am willing to face that….if brings change that is for the better.”

 

That my friend, was bullshit at its very best.

 

Then one of the lecturer looked at me and she said “I like your passion. We rarely see that in young people anymore these days. And good for you for wanting to do that for your country.”

 

I am soooo fucked.

 

 

So now, they all know me as the passionate Malaysian girl and I don’t even want to be a journalist. This is soo bullshit. Why do I keep on doing shit like this to myself? Why? God, why? Why do I always get myself into these tangled web lies. Can't I just say the real reason. No I can't cause I just have to be dramatic. Just haaaave too. Goddamnit.

 

But on the plus side, the students that were in that class thinks I’m cool now. That's right. Me. Cool. I don't think there was ever a time that people associate me with "cool".....but they are now. Yeah...... I could live with that. 

 

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 2^nd 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.