Freeeeeeeedddoom!!!

I'm baaaaaaacccccckkkk!!

Okay to be fair, I'm not even sure that you guys were even aware that I was missing. Haha. But I have to complete 3 assingments that were due on the same day. 

1500, 2500 and 4000 words each. All on the same day.

You'll abandon blogging too dude. But on the plus side, I don't have finals. Just crazy ass assignments. I just submitted all 3 on Monday, slept all on Tuesday and now I AM FREEEEE!!!!!!!!!! Sem have finally ended for me. Freeeeeeeeddddommm!

Fuck yeah.

Blogging will be back to regular scheduling. And commenting is also back on. 

Fuck yeah!

An imaginary conversation with you lot

If you guys are wondering somewhere along these lines:

“The fuck is this woman blogging so much?”

Then the answer is:

“This woman have a 2000 words paper due on Friday at 4pm and she have just done 1,300 therefore have another 700 words left but yet procrastinating like a mofo.”

If you are then led to wonder:

“Hhhhmmm what is this assignment about?”

Not plagiarizing.

Well then I have to answer:

“Journalists have been known to be jailed under the charge of disobedience contempt in court for refusing to reveal their sources. Should journalists be protected from revealing sources in the court of law? Discuss the merits of both sides of the argument. (2000 words, no more then 2,500)

Of which then I have to ask:

“Show me the mofo who could write up till 2,500 and I will beat the living shit out of that sonofabitch!”

Perhaps that last one wasn't quite a question but in point of fact; a statement. The sentiment however, was conveyed stupendously.

The End

Hey y'all, I'm getting my ass whoop. Yay!

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.

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. 

 

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....

 

 

***

 

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.