-About a Girl-

Wednesday, September 28, 2005

My mum cracks me up. Being the doting (and prolly a bit weird) mother that she is, she purchased no less than THIRTY pieces of roti canai from the Taipan Canai n Such, freeze-packed them, and are on the plane due to arrive here at 3 pm as I blog. THIRTY pieces! Giler! Can you imagine what the mamak dudes must've thought when she asked to bungkus 30 pieces of roti canai..?! I can imagine it going something like,

Mamak: Yes, mem?

Mum: (I'm spelling this as she pronounces the words, being Korean and all, with a really weird trying-too-hard accent) Ah adek, saya mau beli roti canai, bungkus, boleh-ah?

Mamak: Boleh...Mau berapa?

Mum: Saya ingat tiga puloh boleh lah.

Mamak: *Wide eyed, half laughing, half bewildered* Tiga puluh??! tiga ke tiga puluh?

Mum: *tries to speak with typical BM tone, fails miserably* Tiiiga Puuuloooh...untuk anak saya di Australia, dia mau makan lah.

*Mamak goes wild, laughs at her and goes to tell all his mamak workies*

Man, I've been getting some really bizarre dreams lately...like this one I had a few nights ago; I dreamt I was about 8 or 9 and I was in primary school. This was SJK (C) Lick Hung, aka most reputable Chinese school in m'sia (I fcuking hated it), aka Little Commie Land. A teacher was yelling at me for something or other, and for some reason it hit me really hard, and I woke up right there and then, crying and crying and crying...

I'm currently at the Paramatta branch of Autojoy, the car accessory company my aunt works for. There's an ah beng/la-la-ish dude staring at me and its making me very uncomfortable.

I'm off to the airport...yep, the family lands today!

Posted by Closet Groupie :: 9:28 AM :: 3 Comments:

Post a Comment


Monday, September 26, 2005

My stupid mouth


Some say it makes the world go round, but I say thats just for the low superficials. But you can't deny that its everywhere, there are books based on it, some friendships feed on it and some are broken by it...

Personally, I don't like gossip. I think its low, trashy, unnecessary, and it always lands you in shit. Plus, it hurts people, and thats the last thing I ever want to do. I try my darnest not to get involved in it at all, but I admit there are moments of weakness, never without circumstance. Worse yet, is when others get the blame, and all you can do is stand and watch...

But enough of that. Lately I've realised that I'm more comfortable around older people; I don't enjoy the company of people my age too much(friends excepted), especially strangers...it always seems like they're all the same and have nothing interesting to say.

I try my fcuking hardest not to be an elitist bitch, but I sure do feel like one. Who am I to judge people for what they are, and not what they can be?

I don't know. I'm in a strange stage right now. I listen to different music (xavier rudd? spearhead?), read different types of books, do different things...and I've been getting into alot of arguements with my aunt. She goes off at me out of the blue and makes it all seem like its my fault, like I'm a horrible person that gets everything wrong.

I mean, I truly and honestly don't think I'm that fcuked up...I don't hurt nobody, do my school work, help around the house, try my best to make everyone happy (hurting myself in the process) and yeah, I like to have fun, and I know I fuck up sometimes but isn't that just human?

So why does everyone make me feel like such a shitty person?


Posted by Closet Groupie :: 5:52 PM :: 1 Comments:

Post a Comment


Tuesday, September 20, 2005

Was clicking around on my "who links to me" thingie and found a couple of links to my blog...hah! People read my blog! I'm gona be terribly apologetic and express my guilt for not blogging as often as I usually do, nor can I blog about deep, thought worthy stuff anymore, thanks to my still deceased internet connection (and my increasingly short memory). I feel I'm not living up to my blogging duties and not entertaining you, dear reader, enough. Don't worry, it'll rise from the dead soon. Someday. I think.

Anyway, wanna hear about how I got a concussion from a bongo drum that dropped on my head, thanks to dear sweet sam?

On Sunday, we went up to Hazelbrook up in the Blue Mountains with his brother and some friends to look for this tree house, proclaimed to be the "Best Tree House in the World". When I arrived and met up with sam, my cousin called and told me I got busted for weed. oh well.

Tree house was beautiful when we finally found it, carrying guitars and bongo drums and all...oklah, this is getting very long winded. Basically, as we came down from the tree house, I, with all my overconfidence (sometimes mistaken as stupidity), I told him to pass me the drum, but the goddamn thing fell on my head instead of falling into my hands.

Idiot didn't even apologise, because he said I'd been warned. And so for the next two days my forehead was swollen right in the middle, and hurt like hell. What did I do? I slept. And slept.

And I didn't know it was a concussion, nonetheless know what the word meant, til Jaki explained why I was sleeping so much. I'm so clever. Right?

My mummy and the terror twins are gona come visit in about a week...and holly cow, I'm actually EXCITED on the prospect of seeing my family.

-I've thought of a million good things to blog about, but can't write in a library full of strangers and distractions-

Anyone heard any good music lately? Drop me a few names. I'm open to anything at this point. ANYTHING.

Posted by Closet Groupie :: 5:44 PM :: 4 Comments:

Post a Comment


Sunday, September 04, 2005

I wish I had something interesting to say, I really do.

Oh wait...I do..! Here it comes...


Thats right! I'm goin to St Mary's next year, meaning no more stupid Glenmore Park High bullshit next year, no more wearing stupid uniforms next year, no more stupid glenmore park people next year.

Its funny, all the asians from my school who applied got in, and hardly any...er...white people got accepted.

I think the school is racist. Damn Asians.

Posted by Closet Groupie :: 12:22 PM :: 3 Comments:

Post a Comment