18 til I Die

I haven’t been posting lately.

uhh.. DUH.

I’ve been busy with reconstructing (ok, searching for free blog templates) my other long-dormant blog on blogspot (yeah it has only 6 entries dating back to 2004) because the simplicity of Friendster is starting to get boring. I want something harder to use and less ’standardized’. So for the past few days, I kinda got what I want because I’m this utter goon when it comes to html, or photo-hosting or template-finding and all those nitty gritties those people with beautifully designed blogs do.

Was quite stuck because I had no idea how to put links to other blogs, but today Daniel Tan saved me. Many many thanks to you Daniel, for typing in the codes and stuff for me. So now it can be considered up and running.

Felt quite irritated that blogspot has no tool for me to import my posts from Friendster. But, it’s not like I have any choice. I wanted to get my own site at thevalleygirl.com but some wineyard bozos in Southern California got to it first. I think they’re in Napa Valley or something. And they’re not ‘girls’. More like, ‘mom’ or something.

From now on, I’ll be posting at http://thevalleygirl.blogspot.com. Change your links on your blogs, folks.

Whew. That wasn’t as hard as I thought it would be. For a person like me who has such major attachment issues.

I wonder, Joanne, didn’t you feel anything when you changed your blog to blogspot?

And when I fling it, I hope it hits that lousy lecturer squarely in the eye. And maybe go on to smack that silly ITS Helpdesk bitch who thinks she’s doing everyone a favour by sitting her fat ass there, with her perennial black face. Then, with all vendettas buried, I will move on. I always considered the graduation ceremony as a mere formality and wouldn’t have minded graduating in absentia, but I started to wonder about the significance of it all when my grandmother asked me twice in one day if she was invited to see me graduate. Or maybe it was when I went along to the ceremony on Wednesday and saw an entire family having tears in their eyes over one girl in the graduation attire. If my family gets all soppy on me, I will run off and hide. To me, the only thing that merits tears here is if you graduate valedictorian. Otherwise, just cheerfully collect your scroll, take happy pictures, and plot amongst yourselves to assassinate the valedictorian.

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Have you ever seen that Marlboro ad? Once, probably in a spasm of social welfare behaviour, Marlboro came up with a very,good, ad. Instead of a happy, I-just-smoked-10-ciggies-in-the-past-10-minutes Marlboro cowboy trotting along on his horse, it depicted the Marlboro cowboy standing on the ground, with an utterly shocked and confused look on his face. He was staring at his horse, that was lying dead on the ground. And then the tagline, "Secondhand smoking KILLS." I just love disguised wit. Or maybe when ChorMin was describing the ad to us, it sounded so spastically funny.

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My puzzle is almost done. We both fixed all the parts with color yesterday. Now I wonder who’s going to attempt assembling the part of the black night sky.

I hate DOTA. hatedotahatedotahatedotahatedotahatedota. i took so damn long to type that hatedota thing because I always typed it as ‘hatedoat’, and had to backspace so many times. DOTA has caused me hours of waiting on msn for a reply, lack of attention received, and a tired-ass boy who will not pick up my calls in the morning cos he slept at 5am from playing that stupid game. I thought I’d try to learn the game so, as I theorized, try to be better than him at playing, beat him at it, and bring about the situation where he loses interest in playing when he realizes he can’t win. But then I realized there was one flaw in my plan:- I don’t think I could ever beat him at it. His technique was perfected from millions of hours staring and clicking. So I did what every self-respecting female would do; I resorted to snorting and grumbling whenever he starts to play.

That day I went over to spend some time as we were busy the whole week. He had that stupid DOTA screen open again. So I hid myself behind a book and starting spying on him. I watched as he kept clicking back and forth between Internet Explorer and the DOTA screen, waiting for a game to start. He did that for quite awhile, and on what must have been the 50th time he opened the DOTA screen, there was STILL no game on the list. He let out a little moan. Like somebody had just denied him a lolly or something.

"Hahaha.. somebody has no game to play! Nyehehehe…" I guffawed.

Out of spite, the bugger played DOTA until 3am.

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Since we’re on the topic of him, I might as well let out this pent-up frustration. Remember how he has to hobble in crutches every now and then since he tore a ligament during futsal that never healed properly? Well, the damn-cari-pasal fella went and signed up for a paintball tournament with his friends. My screams only served to push him further in his determination to play. Sigh. I need as much beauty sleep as possible as I foresee many nights in the hospital to come. Remember, I predicted it here first. He’s gonna look so ‘jeng jeng jeng’ on Ball nite with crutches. Here’s proof that all guys, regardless of creed or colour, will sacrifice anything in their passion for futsal.

The Sri Lankan guy tore his ligament in the same spot, in the same leg, while doing the same thing.

J loves this picture. He seems to think it’s funny.

In some dank, dark hole where no light ever penetrates. Let me rot in the heaps of interview boo-boos and lumps of awkward silences. Like last week, I was there early. This time, I remembered to bring my resume.

Just as I walked into the bank, my stomach began to hurt. The bloody nasi lemak I had at Orange yesterday was threatening to fuck things up.

I got directions from the HR lady for the restroom, and hurried there. Walked through the first door with the ‘toilet’ sign on it and ended up in the gents’. I backed a hasty retreat and nearly collided with the Head Of Recruitment i met in Australia who was just standing outside, talking on her mobile. She stared in shock, and what could I do but grin cheesily and run down the hallway into the ladies.

Who in their right mind will hire such an idiot???

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When I was handing in my driver’s license to get a visitor pass from the guard before the interview, there was a middle-aged man carrying an obnoxiously huge and colourful bunch of flowers right behind me. My years of ’sharing’ during the stupid English Lit tests in secondary school had taught me to read small print from a distance. So I saw a ‘Happy Anniversary’ on the card, and nearly melted. Here was a man, so in touch with his emotions, and having the absolute balls to walk into his wife’s department with that awful bouquet just because it’s their anniversary.

So I said, "Wah encik, your wife is very lucky la."

He looked at me, and said, "Bukan isteri saya lah, saya tukang hantar aje."

Sigh.

Heard quite a few people talking about the Durex and hence, sex issue these few days. This just proves one thing; sex sells. Hmmph.

Did nothing this weekend, which has left me feeling utterly lethargic and so.. blah. I’m getting pretty good at predicting my moodswings according to the menstrual cycle, and my calculations predict that these few days are gonna be completely blah or completely drama. No drama, no. But right now i’m so restless that I feel like ripping something to shreds or just punching something silly.

My french manicure’s chipping at the ends; I pray it can last till after the interview tomorrow. What, another interview? Yeah. But I make it a point to disassociate myself with those kiasu people who go for interviews just so they can make notches on their wall. God knows I need a job, and I’m just trying to find the best one out there. I wish I could be one of those people who can afford to bum around for ages, just travel and shit, but I can’t. I’ve got one final trip in November and that’s it. They say when you come from nothing, you’re always hungry. And I think it’s good, cos it makes you work harder for more.

Oh shit. My collagen mask has gone and hardened on my face while I was typing this blog and now I can’t get it off. SO much for do-it-at-home spas. I just got ‘SPA-ed’.

I need my daily drug. No Stella Artois here so…. Fruit Tree, where are you? Somebody had better not have swiped the ones I put in the fridge this time.

Was talking to mom. She mentioned she was asking some car dealers for quotes on cars. The car dude apparently told her about some loan scheme for new graduates where they can get upto 100% financing for their first house or car from any bank, and pay like RM288 per month for the first two years. I wanted to verify the accuracy of this so I went to two bank websites but couldn’t find a trace of this heavenly scheme anywhere. Cis. I was about to get my calculator out to work out if I could afford the repayments on a City after two years. Anybody knows anything, please inform me.

Somebody used my magic pot without asking. And, WITHOUT washing. KNS. Magic Pot = All in one pot that can steam, fry, poach, bake, blablabla. The only thing it cant do is freeze stuff.

Last I checked, this was a (relatively) free country. Monash is a relatively relaxed university in terms of freedom of speech, freedom of action, and freedom of choice. Adequate rules and policies are in place to ensure non-extreme behaviour, but generally we students are let alone.

What really irks me is when some supposedly self-enlightened, pious, righteous somebodies try and impose their views, be it religious or otherwise, upon the other thousands of students in the university.

At this point, I have to make clear that I do respect all laws of religion. That forms the very basic right to choose. However, practicing one religion does not give you the right to impose your religious views on the thousands of others who are not of your religion, or do not share the same views.

I perfectly understand that most religions frown upon sex before marriage. And I understand that some practice abstinence. But I also do know lots of people who profess to follow a certain religion who do away with certain religious beliefs that they feel are encumbrances, this sex issue included.

So, people from CF, I don’t know who actually went to MUSA to complain about Durex sponsoring condoms, but I have to say this:- Just quit it, will you? University students are old enough to choose, nobody’s gonna start having sex just because a Durex condom is in their Monash Ball goodie bag. In fact, I think a proportion of them will be thanking heaven that a condom is there so they won’t have to risk doing it unprotected. Frankly, if Durex wasn’t around, there’d be more unplanned pregnancies than there are now.

Anyway, you can just choose to throw it away. Or ignore it. Or if you can’t stand seeing it in your goodie bag during the ball, come to table 3 and give it to me.

Sheesh.

I have nothing else to say about my absolute kebodohan at times. Showed up for the interview bright and early, WITHOUT bringing my resume. Panicked and nearly died. Luckily I remembered my certs and transcript otherwise I could have been applying for a cleaner’s job for all anyone cared. The interviewer was kind too.. but I’m always suspicious of too-nice interviewers. Heck for all you know, they might be nice cos they’re sympathetic cos they will not be giving you the job. He left the impression on me that this department I’m applying for is ‘chiu kap’ hard to get into. Suddenly I’m starting to want this job.

Sigh. We always want what’s coveted by others, especially those with a hint of ‘limited edition’ to it.

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Met up with Jess for lunch where we talked about working, working life (wat life?) and those growing up issues like car, house, credit card. Mostly it’s just about how to stretch our salary to cover it. In her generosity, she offloaded a whole carton of Fruit Tree drinks on me. Nearly broke my back carrying it up to my apartment.

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Now I have to go figure out how to do my Treasury assignment. I really doubt I can finish it by Friday.

Really cannot tahan already. Came home yesterday to find the power supply to my laptop shut off, thus forcing me to go through the whole process of whupping it to get it to wake up. This time, I took a whole hour yet I couldn’t get it to switch on. I went off to bed cursing it to kingdom come. After a couple of hard smacks this morning, it finally woke up and allowed me to use the internet. I think I ought to do something about it right? Leroy’s probably cursing that I didn’t take his advice.

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Was at Palace of the Golden Horses again yesterday as a tag-along for the food tasting thing. Couldn’t do nothing but grin cheesily when Dahlia said, "You’re just here for the food, aren’t you?" Ha ha ha. This is how my life has changed since MUSA last year. Busy, busy, busy this whole week. Really wanted to meet Jessica to catch up but unfortunately, the promise of a 7-star dinner at Palace lured me away. Anyone who wants to kidnap me just needs a fishing rod and some oysters or calamari as bait.That’s assuming anyone wants to kidnap a neurotic pest like me in the first place. We were halfway through the fried garoupa when I started to half wish I’d gone to Jess instead.

I’m not going to give spoilers on the food for Monash Ball, but we generally had a million suggestions to the chef yesterday night. Let’s cross our toes and hope they get implemented.

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The issue of the Ball table is now solved. Thanks Maurice and Sue. Lucky I managed to fill the places, and am even luckier that they’re people I know.

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I officially know how to barbecue meat now. Up until SengWei’s birthday on Saturday, my knowledge of BBQ-ing was sadly limited to theories and observations and just standing by yelling instructions to the poor sweaty person trying to start the fire. But that day, I skewered my first chicken and cooked it just nice. Bangga betul.

So.. while we were waiting for Chia Chin who was taking forever to come pick us up.. this happened..

Hui was quite pissed at the entire male race that night, so who better to take her anger out on than a member of the male race itself?

I smoked my first ciggie that night too..

NOT!!!

Never in my life okay. Even though the two closest people I know work part time as chimneys.

Highlight of the night…

Most of them ate it except me. I honestly was having indigestion after gorging myself crazy. I went home feeling like a puffer fish, and the bloated feeling kept me way up during the night.

I have two seats on my table for the Monash Ball as some poopy friends of friends pulled out at the last minute without informing me. This is what I hate about getting friends of friends, its so hard to keep track of them especially when it comes to payment and stuff.

Anyhow, my table is number 3 right up there in the first row. Call me if you know my number, leave me a message on Friendster, or MSN. Tomorrow we have to pay up to ensure early bird prices. I can pay for you first, but just give me your confirmation.