Bloody shite, trip to US Embassy was a waste of time. First of all I had to wake up at bloody 7pm which is 4 hours earlier than my usual time. Then I clambered into the car and felt carsick all the way to KL.
THEN. At the embassy, those ang mohs were so bloody “pah-pai”. All of us who wanted to enter had to line up OUTSIDE THE GATES OF THE EMBASSY in the bloody hot sun. FOR FUCKING NEAR 2 HOURS! When we finally reached the security door of the embassy, the big beefy bald guy (who looks like he might have a night job jaga-ing the entrance of Atmos or something) let my mother through but stopped me with a almighty thrust of his hand (which btw, looked the size of a football).
Beefy guard (in thunderous voice): ONLY ONE PERSON AT A TIME.
Me: …… (still stuck outside sweating profusely in glaring sun)
Beef (swinging open door again): NEXT.
Me (marching in and muttering): Why embassy also got bouncer one ar…(quickly keeps silent when notices that Beef is staring at her menacingly).
We go through TWO body and bag checks before we can finally enter the embassy. And inside, we discover that we have to line up once again to submit my visa application. When it’s finally my turn, I go up to the guy at the counter, who’s young and actually not bad-looking. I pass my application form to him. He glances at The Visa Photo and giggles: hur hur hur.
I stare at him in aghast embarrasment.
He flips open my passport now. “Hur hur hur”
My eyes get even bigger. 0_0. “What?” I say defensively.
He points to The Visa Photo. “So happy.” He snorts again before finally uruskan-ing what needs to be uruskan-ed and telling me I need to sit and wait again until my number is called.
So I sit and wait for 15 minutes until my number is announced. I go up to the counter and much to my irritation the fat lady there tells me I can’t submit my application now because I don’t have the I-20 form (which is for students). I stare agog once again and my mum tells her that we were told we could apply first and submit I-20 later since it takes so long to apply for a visa.
Fat Lady: No, you can only submit your application early without I-20 if you’re a boy. Applications for guys take longer than girls so they can submit it earlier. You as a girl don’t need to apply so early. So u can wait for your I-20 form then only come and apply.
This means I have to make another trip to the embassy next month. Cakaplah awal sikit!! Aku tak payah tunggu lama di luar itu embassy dan ditakutkan itu bouncer yang besar. Bitchiness.
So after that to make up for it, I went to Sungei Wang! And bought sculpting lotion for my precious hair. 😀 *happiness*
And then I went to watch Troy with Min, Hsin, Yee Mei and Ferinna. Me and Min sat across the aisle from the rest and entertained ourselves with clever jokes. And I became teacher of the day and enlightened Min all about ancient Greek mythology (due to self as nerd child reading about it in encyclopedias and such). We decided that:
#1: Hector is our hero.
#2: Nia Vardalos would make a better and more Greeklike Helen than whatsherface. (With one swing of her body, she would take down the whole of Troy. But then if she were Helen, I can tell you there sure wouldn’t be a war).
#3: Orlando Bloom looks like Francis in Malcolm in the Middle and is a pukima.
#4: Hector’s baby doesn’t look Greek either.
#5: Helen looks like a bitch. Her lips are really thin.
Then at night, we went for Jacky Cheung’s concert in SUnway Lagoon. Thanks Hsin! But turns out, he is another pukima. He bloody started BEFORE 8.30pm! So by the time we reached, he sang 1 1/2 songs before they announced it was time for the autograph session etc etc.
#1: I got two bloody aching legs thanks to running to the concert place to see him and from being unable to stop running because it was downhill
#2: I also got a blood clot each on both my big toe nails. God knows why.
#3: I was smart enough to ask Sam to carry me up so I could at least catch a glimpse of Hock Yau in the flesh. Unfortunately when he picked me up, the blinding white light flashed into my eyes from the stage and I couldn’t see anything at all. Of course, I didn’t tell him that, after all his help and energy to pick me up.
So after the terrible disappointment that was an excuse for a promo concert, we headed to Breakers. And there:
#1: I fucking lost RM50! Only discovered it today when I had no money for lunch. Dunno what happened to it, whether it dropped out or somebody took it from my wallet when I was foos-ing. Stupid me happily left my bag in the corner near the stairs and went off to play. Fuck whoever took it and may you die being stabbed in the eyeballs!
#2: Hsin and I practised our 70’s dance poses everytime we scored a goal.
#3: Stupid dunno-what staff of Breakers asked us for ID!! Malou.. and to think we’re already one year past the legal age!
#4: Sam let down whoever was on his team by not looking when the game was started and by knocking the ball into his own goal. (But I shouldn’t compain cos he caught me stopping and fiddling with my mascara in the middle of a game)
Today was my first day as a *ahem* uni student! Though technically I was a an illegal alien in Monash. And though I attended just one tutorial.
But who gives a fuck! Haha I went for class! *sigh* People get excited cos they’re going clubbing, I get excited because I’m going to school. Cheryl, Hsin and Yee Mei were astonished at my enthusiasm, including the fact that I panicked because I thought we were going to be late for the tutorial which was: DESIGN OF SCIENCE. Didn’t want to miss a minute of it. The spirit of the nerd lives.
In the class, I was happily sitting next to Yee Mei, devouring their Design of Science assignment, which seemed v. interesting to me even though everyone stared at me like I was insane. It’s cos I have nothing to do plus I really really miss academics:( Also I was very happy to see all you guys! Missed all of you so much. Anyway, just to tell you people that I’ll be glad to help you with your assignments… ahem… what are friends for? So bring it on, babes!
Tomorrow, am going to the American Embassy to sort out my visa application and prove to them that I’m not a Muslim terrorist/Nazi/drug dealer/prostitute. Wish me luck, people! Also, am going to wear skirt and pants combo. It’s a luck thing.
Nothing happened today that was worth blogging about actually. I went back to The Photo Shop to collect gargoyle-like visa photos. The lady in the shop fixed us with a wary look, as though afraid we were going to throw a tantrum again and break her photostatting machine or something. But sucks to her, we were on our best behaviour and smiled the entire time at her and the rest of the customers. She gave us 10 cents off our payment, probably in relief that no quarrels broke out today.
Visa photo looks immensely bad. Think eyebags big enough to carry the kitchen sink in, bulging shiny forehead (DUE TO HAIR PUSHED UP!! ngghhh…), and cement hard cheeks (DUE TO TRYING TO KEEP SMILE ON DESPITE PISSED-OFF MOOD). Felt sick when I look at it. From now on, passport will be kept top secret to prevent public from discovering my secret identity as a toad.
Quote of the day:
“Life with the Ooi family is like a sitcom…oh except for your mother of course” says Daddy Ooi.
Oh yes, have also lost all faith in men. (To all males reading this, apologies. I’m sure there are great guys out there but unfortunately I have not met any decent ones yet). I’m not saying that we girls are perfect – it’s proven that we are the much bitchier and backstabbing half of the population – but I’ve heard so many stories and experienced first-hand what guys can do that I just putus asa. I guess the best so far is Ruth’s Joel 😀 (Huzzah for him!) From the controlling, over-sensitive boyfriend to the one who couldn’t care less, from the boyfriend who pretends to be asleep when his girlfriend calls, to the guy who dumps girls because they’re not “chun” enough, to the boyfriend who CHEATS on his girlfriend (once or repeatedly). *black cloud over head*
Oh wait, come to think of it, there are some good guys around, I guess. Its just that none of them are ever mine!!!
Top 5 boyfriends (in no particular order):
1. Joel – no need to say lah, whoever knows him and Ruth will attest to that.
2. Jill’s Kevin – hearing the stuff he does for her from Hsin:)
3. Cho Sing Hing in the Wah Lai Toi 930 show – aiyoo I know that he’s not her real husband but he is a real person in history and look how much he did for Cheung Ping
4. Dinesh – see the way he treats Meow…so gentle…amat menyayatkan hati
5. The Fringe’s Boyfriend – he holds her floral parasol for her and puts up with her poofy prom dress. What more do you expect?
People who have stories to tell about their wonderful boyfriends, step out and raise my mood a bit. People who have stories to tell about their crappy boyfriends, also step out and make me laugh.
Guys who feel/know they’re good boyfriends, please feel free to enlighten me. Seriously.
Surprise, surprise! Today was actually quite productive for Audrey.
First of all, I went for a BLOOD test (!!), which was disgusting, bowel-moving and puke-inducing. Actually the Mother and Father wanted me to get my Hepatitis B injections all done before I go off. But thanks to smart me, who kept saying that I should have already gotten my injections when I was a baby because of the law that says all babies have to be immunized, they decided to sent me for a BLOOD test to confirm if I already have had the injections. And since I full well know that the law I was talking about was only implemented in 1988 (3 years after I was born), so now it turns out that I will take the BLOOD test AND the damn hepatitis B shots as well.
Blood test = 1 shot
Hepatitis B = 3 shots
Blood test + Hepatitis B = 1 + 3 = 4 BLOODY SHOTS!
(Petunjuk:- Ugly green colour represents hate of injections)
The BLOOD test was farking painful. Like when I was young, I tried to distract myself by thinking of ice-cream. Unfortunately it did not work (preferences and priorities must have changed over time). So I tried to think of something else nice. And I dunno why but my mind decided to pick kissing (?). I started thinking about how blood rushes about faster when you’re kissing then I started thinking about my own blood rushing into the test-tube or whatever and then I could feel the needle pushing itself in under my skin and flesh…. *goosebumps*. So that did not work either.
Then later in the evening I went to take my photo for my visa. I went to the shop and the lady told me to change into something with a collar because according to some great logic, my sleeveless top would somehow not be visible in the photo and I would then look naked. So I went home and changed. Then I went back to the shop. Then the lady said I would have to tuck my hair behind my ears. Okay, I know it is fucking stupid to get into a fight over my hair but you know how obsessed I am over it. Some more, before that I’d already susah-payah went and blowed my hair nicely to take the stupid photo. And then she told me I have to push my fringe off my forehead also. You know my fringe, right? How the hell am I supposed to push it off my forehead when it’s all straight and coming down nicely over my forehead?
My father kept yelling and me to push back my hair but I was already trying to without messing it up and getting very irritated and stressed. Then he came over and starting sweeping it in the WRONG direction. So I screamed and there started World War III in the tiny little photo shop. By that time I didn’t care already that the other customers were all staring at me. In the end, I went home AGAIN and pinned up my hair, plus my mother combed out my lovely curls cos she said its too messy and brought mousse and a comb back to the stupid shop and finally took the photo (which I know I look like shit in because it’s damn difficult to smile nicely when you’re pissed. I probably look like a serial killer).
And then, when I got home and went up to my room (and after remoussing my hair and blowing my fringe again), what do I find but ants on my wall! Out comes the insect spray, but after spraying the fucking wall THREE times, I still see more and more ants coming out! What are they, immortal or something? So it’s time to call the heavy artillery, which is none other than Mummy Ooi.
Mummy Ooi stormed upstairs armed with 3 packets of powder poison, which actually works in a very sneaky and evil way. You scatter the poison all over the ants’ trail and then they’ll take it back to their nest, thinking it’s food and eat it and die in the nest. I felt very very wicked while watching Mummy lay the poison. It seems a much more inhumane way to kill ants than by just spraying them. Like you secretly kill them with poison, whereas when you spray them at least you’re being upfront about it. Then I started to feel sorry for the ants cos they looked so busy and productive, unlike the human here. But then I thought of them attacking me while I sleep then I didn’t feel so bad anymore.
I am PMS-ing badly. I feel like I want to burst into tears every other minute. And the other “other” minutes I just feel damn depressed. Yesterday I was at MPH Midvalley and I picked up this mini-book which was like full of advice for dads who have daughters. It’s the kind of book that has only one sentence or piece of advice on every page. For example:
– Remember that she will always, always melt your heart.
– Always play ball with her, even if the ball is pink and covered with glitter.
– Dance with her. She will never be too young, or too old for that matter.
– Know that she will not be happy if you become better friends with her boyfriend than she is.
– Do not give in to the temptation to buy her everything she wants.
– Do not be worried if weird boys start showing up on your doorstep. All boys at that age look weird anyway.
– Help her to decide her intended path thru life.
– And lastly, let her go.
*blinks back tears*
I’ve always been daddy’s little girl. As a kid I used to make him pick me up, dance around the house and sing “Shall We Dance?” from The King And I. In hardware stores, I used to make him pick me up and hold me up while I pressed the entire display of doorbells and listened to them ringing. And every night at 2am, after watching my nursery rhyme video, I would go upstairs, wake him up from deep slumber and tell him I was done watching and would he please go turn off the VCR. Also, Daddy is the one who I go to if I need money:)
Of everyone in Malaysia, I think he will be the saddest one when I leave. Oh no thinking of it now makes me want to cry again. Of course, I will miss Mummy Ooi and her kind of garang way of talking to me and the way she always tries to hide(show?) her affection by forcing me to finish all the vegetables. And I will miss Brother Ooi for his weird antics (ie, falling in toilet and grabbing toilet bowl for support) and competing with him for who gets to play Gunbound first. But I dunno, for the fact that I know Daddy Ooi will be the one who will be shedding a tear for me leaving… it just makes my heart break.:(
::This entry is dedicated to the 3 Oois whom I love so much::
Okay, everyone, whatever Jia Min says about my driving skills today, it’s not true.
I’m not mentioning names but today I kindly did someone a GIGANTIC favor by going to pay his saman for him at MPSJ. *sighs dramatically* The cons of being so sweet, kind, adorable, etc.
Anyway, for some reason, driving around I got honked at like fcuk. Can everyone please have pity and mercy for this poor tiny girl with the P sticker driving her mother’s fcuking humongous Civic, which is damn low and cannot go over speedbumps without scraping its underbelly horrendously? So I had to go pick Min up because guess what – I don’t know the way to MPSJ. I didn’t tell the person with the saman that because I wanted to jaga imej… I mean please, how can a person who has stayed in Subang Jaya for 15 years not know how to go to MPSJ? For the record, I don’t know how to go to Taipan either. Or Hsin‘s house, without memorising the directions (ie. turn left, turn right, turn right again etc).
Anyway, we made our way into USJ, weaving our way professionally thru the traffic, not on purpose mind you, but because I couldn’t make up my mind which lane to stay on. We finally reached MPSJ after doing what looked like a vaguely illegal U-turn at the traffic lights. And the goddamn MPSJ had roads which were the size of the longkang behind your house. There was no place to park except right next to the sign that said “No Parking”. And I’ll be damned if I’m going to commit a traffic offence right there in their headquarters. The traffic police/MPSJ boss would probably slap the ticket right on my windshield and bellow,”Dik, senang saja you nak bayar itu saman. You pergi naik tangga atas ke itu kaunter bayaran, lepas tu sudah selesai”.
Since I was suffering from severe hunger pangs and irritation and since Min was going to be late for class, I did the next best thing: I parked in the parking lot meant for the kakitangan. Seeing a whole bunch of what looked kakitangan MPSJ outside the entrance of the parking lot, I cleverly pressed the oil and zoomed in, hoping I looked like one of their kind. Then I quickly parked and ran upstairs with Min. After depleting my wallet of 80 bucks, we zoomed out of MPSJ and went for lunch then I sent Min to Monash.
Later in the day, I had to go pick Min up from Monash again cos she didn’t have transport. As I backed my car out of the driveway, I heard this weird grinding sound, my car started shaking then stopped. My first thought was, what did I roll over? But no, when I looked around, I realized that I drove into the gate. While it was already open. Surprisingly, noone came out to check on the damage so I quickly went off hoping that they didn’t hear. Then I parked my car at the side of the road to check the injuries. I noticed there was some neighbours standing around and thinking that they might tell my mother, I quickly went off again.
Then on the way to Monash I got honked at all they way as usual. When Min came into the car, she was listen to my sob story, naturally. And as we were driving out, who should we see but Aden, of all people. Jia Min recognised him, I don’t know how but I thought we got the wrong person. Even after I wound down the window and we started talking I still somehow thought that was the wrong person and that he’d also mistaken us for somebody else. I’ve only seen him once before ok!
Then after that while driving, I tried to keep my eyes open at all times to ensure no more honking or close calls. I kept my eyes so wide open that I didn’t notice I had been driving the entire time without letting go the handbrake. No wonder there was a suspicious squeaking, creaking kind of sound that at first I thought was part of the song on radio, then later I thought had to do with my car’s injury from hitting the gate.
No more Audrey behind the wheel for some time.
Person with the saman: You owe me 80 bucks and a lot of emotional stress.
::A view of the floor::
::A view of my desk:D Among other things are my Roxy bag, sticker photo notebook, stereo remote, MD player and Brother Ooi’s hairband, etc. ::
::My bed. Notice the handphone right in the middle? This is why I always lose it::
::The makeup table. Min, Hsin, Malcolm and anyone else who had to wait for me: this is why::
::Chair also doubles up as clothes hanger. Very innovative::
A F T E R O P E R A T I O N C L E A N U P :
::A clean working space is the key to success::
::My bed after its makeover. L-R:Toby, BlueFlower, Koala-with-identity-crisis, SanjayBear, YellowBear, NormalKoala, LifeguardPooh, WeizhenKangaroo, Lolo.
:: You won’t have to wait for me longer than 15 minutes anymore, I promise!::
I’m back at the blog because for some reason, every room that I click on in Gunbound will not let me in. Either “the game in progress” or “the room too full”. I’ve noticed that the makers of Gunbound don’t have very good English either. 😛 Plus, at this time, Gunbound players all seem to be Spaniards or Brazilian. Must be the time for them to be awake.
I have nothing to blog about.
Random thought of the day: I like my hair color.
Stupid act of the day: I spilled Milo on the laptop.
I just can’t seem to shut up about the cake, as most people can testify to that. Aiyaa, don’t blame me lar, this was a major achievement for me as well as for Brother Ooi.
(ooh just used my finger to stab an insect to death – pest control of the house: that’s yours truly)
Anyway, these are the proof that I did indeed bake a cake and didnt just halfway run out to the nearest Berry’s and grab the nearest cake.
The product that took sweat, blood and tears (note to self: all that Mummy expanded when she gave birth to us)
Me holding sweat-blood-tears-product, looking vaguely psychotic. It’s all that hard work and stress, I tell you.
Oh that’s the recipient of the cake, looking quite hip as it is. The macho male holding a piece of Biore Pore Pack is of course, Cook No. 2, Brother Ooi.
Mummy and Daddy Ooi, holding the precious cake. Notice the cocoa powder and Kitkat used for decor? Innovative, that’s us.
My first slice of cake!! (yum)
Nursing a cough that feels like TB. And bloody hell, can’t even find my inhaler. Yes, yes, I am a scrawny asthmatic who depends on steroids to keep her alive 😛
Oh on the brighter side of things, the entire family ate The Cake. And nobody died or had to be sent to the hospital! Granted, the cake was a little on the chewy side (no thanks to Brother Ooi’s over-enthusiastic mixing) and there was no cheese smell, but overall it was F-I-N-E. Will post pics of precious cake up as soon as I figure out how to hook up the camera to the laptop.