I am yet another schoolgirl...

I remember my first crush.

I was 5 years old and he was a prince. No totally, he was. His name was Eric and he was this 2-dimesional character from Disney’s the Little Mermaid. See, I did not know that it was a crush at that point. I just liked looking at him. It wasn’t years down the road did I realise that it was indeed a crush. My first crush. And on a cartoon character no less.

 

 

The second crush I had was on this boy from kindergarten. My playdate. I thought it was a crush…and I’m pretty sure it was. Nothing happened though. Cause well, we were kids. However years down the road when were both 13….we did ended up dating for a bit. Til his dad got relocated overseas and that was that.

 

 

Forwarded years down the road, the awkward teenage years and there was another boy. A cute boy. Man, I totally had a crush on him and my crush was the source of amusement for all my friends. I remember that in the beginning, I was totally into him and then somewhere along the way I got over him and then he turned into a huge joke. Well not him, but the idea of him and I kept pursuing him cause it was funny. Cause my friends and I wanted a laugh. We scared the poor boy half to death. I wonder what happened to him.

 

 

And then there was of course these other boys that were cute, that I liked but just because I was bored. Made no impact on me, just one of those things that you do. Clive Owen does not enter this conversation cause he is not real. We are talking bout actual guys here. Flesh and blood instead of…well my sordid fantasies of a Hollywood star. Nope time flies.I grew up. Memories, friends, ex-boyfriends…haven’t had a crush in ages.

 

 

Till I get here. And met him. And now it’s back to the embarrassing school girl crush I’ve thought I have left behind so long ago. I’m too old for this shit. I’m here to study. I have to focus. Soldier on. That fuckery.

 

 

But aaaahh…my lips are saying no. My heart is going “Don’t go crazy on me biotch.” But my loins….oh how it verily throbs with mad desire....

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. 

 

Something new everyday

“OMG, you speak English so well.”

“Is English your first language?”

“Where do you learn to speak it?”

Bla bla bla bla.

Apparently if you weren’t born in the Western World then there is no conceivable manner that you can actually understand, speaks, read or writes in English. No way whatsoever. For the past 4 days I have been asked again and again to verify that yes I am Malaysian, not Canadian just cause I can speak English quite well. And who knew, there’s quite a number of the Asian-Canadian population in Australia. I wasn’t even aware that there are Asians in Canada.

Not that I’m pissed off or anything with the assumptions, just mildly irritated.

For the past few days I have been hangin out with a German girl, a Scottish girl, a German guy, a Canadian guy and a Taiwanese boy. Cause you know, this week is the international orientation week so yeah baby, international. I’m going to catch a movie with 2 Finnish girls and a South African girl tomorrow. So we’ll see how that goes. I bumped into a couple of Malaysians. I smiled, said hello and then excused myself. I really see no point in coming this far and hanging out with my own countrymen. Not that I’m being arrogant or anything. Also, hanged out with a Turkish guy today. Dude is waaaay hot. I wanna nom nom him.

Like really. Hawt. Hottest dude I seen ever since I got here and trust me on this; other then being constantly dramatic I am also constantly on the look out for a hot piece of ass. Or asses. The more hot asses there are; the merrier I’ll get.

True story.

Now before y’all go “Ouuu I wanna see piccies of the hawt Turkish guy.” Uuumm, no. Not because I do not want to share. Trust me I like sharing this kind of thing but if you haven’t noticed right before I left Malaysia, I’ve pulled back all posts that contain my pictures, friends’ pictures etc. Now I know Internet anonymity is like one’s virginity. Once you posted pictures online; your internet anonymity is gone. Forevah. Just like someone’s virginity, once the cherry’s broken ain’t no going back…..But as demonstrated by Senorita, this is a situation that could be fixed. See the thing is I need an outlet to bitch. Bout these new people whom I just met, bout my lecturers, bout my housemates and everything that irritates me in the days to come. Fact is I haven’t told anyone here that I am the nerdy owner of a blog nor do I plan too. This would be our dirty little secret.

Now ask yourself, would you rather see pictures of me and my giant ass in front of the Sydney Opera House…..or would you rather read about how I think Mr. Clean walks around naked in his room and jerks off to goat pr0n all day long. And if you pick the second option then you my friend is at the right place. You have come to the right place cause this is where we as one talk shit bout other people and sleep peacefully at night afterwards.

Now for those of you who have seen me, well sucks for us cause I am no longer an enigma. For new readers who have never seen me, okay I need you guys to visualize the hottest woman you have seen in your entire life. Long luxurious hair, luscious lips, eyes that ignite lust in both women and men, legs that go on forever….yeah you seeing that now? Yeah? Yeah….that’s not me. I look nothing like that. In fact I kinda look like this bird:

That’s right bitches. Voluptuous.

So back to the story. Orientation have been…nice. I met some nice people. I really like the German girl and the Canadian guy. I feel like I can click with these two but both of them are not majoring in what I am majoring in so….I believe that this passing friendship is limited to the Orientation Week. And after this we shall bid farewell and never cross paths again. Such is life. The fuck am I so poetic right now?

Also duuuude, I met a Malaysian girl the other day and we got to talking and then we questioned our sanity when we made the decision to come here to study. Like okay, personally I have never taken the bus in my life up till last Monday. I mean there was never a need for it. My mom sent me to school when I was in school and when I was old enough to drive my dad got me a car. The only buses I ever been in were tour buses and those shuttle buses in airports. But here I was in Australia taking the bus. And then the most housework I’ve done was making my own bed, cleaning the table after eating and doing the dishes. I have never mopped the floor, or vacuum or wash my own clothes cause we always have a maid. But here I am doing all that shit.

So the Malaysian girl and I were talking and we were going “Ouuu I miss my car.” Fuck, I have never realized what a luxury it is to have a car until I have to take the bus to everywhere. Lucky for me, Australia have a pretty good public transport system. And if I do get lost (which I did the other day and discovered yet another sex shop while being lost), I can just ask people for help. Language is not a problem you know. And the bus drivers are so polite. This is a shock cause bus drivers in Malaysia are a bunch of rude bastards. Dude, seriously the first time I took the bus here, the bus driver lady asked me if I was okay cause I look worried so she told me to sit behind her. Then we get to the bus depot she asked me where I wanted to get to afterwards and drew me a map complete with directions and bus routes. I didn’t even ask her to do it.

It’s just that everyday is a new discovery now. Like me discovering I can’t cook for shit. The first time I tried to cook my rice turn into porridge. I don’t even know how that is possible. It just happened. Then next day I tried to make fried rice….and then I burned it. So I ended up eating burned fried rice for dinner. It’s just one disaster after another. Eating bread with chocolate spread seems like the best option now. And that’s what I have been eating for the last 3 days. I cannot even explain how sucky that is. And I miss eating meat. Everyone here thinks I’m vegetarian. I’m not. I just dunno where to get halal meat.

Dude, I miss eating chicken.

So basically that’s it now. I don’t really feel like writing. It seems that I could already feel pangs of homesickness. I just don’t wanna give in to it. But we’ll see how long I can keep it out.

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.

 

First post from Down Under

I'm back.

Updates later cause now I have to reorganize my room (yay! I'm not homeless) and set up the printer. Just letting y'all know that I am back. And this time, the Constantly Dramatic One is reporting from Down Under.

Watch this space.