Wednesday, May 30, 2007

Wish list

Humunah humunah humunah. I have a secret habit of air typing my thoughts. You may find me slightly moving my fingers across my handbag when I'm sitting on the tram. I may become the most annoying person on the tram if I was to have this bag. I really want it. Someone buy it for me.


I also want season 2 of 90210. Please. I used to have that poster on my wall (the photo that's on the DVD cover)! I always loved Kelly's red dress.

Thursday, May 17, 2007

I'm certainty I hate her

The illiterate fuckwit who sits next to me at work said "certainty" instead of "certainly" yesterday. She tries to be sophisticated at times by speaking in a faux bogan posh accent and saying words that are more than two syllables. She is the antithesis of who I want to be - umotivated, dependent, a follower, no mind of her own, insecure, suburbanite, obese, ugly. Her ass is so fat it takes up half the corridor. She waddles like Grimace and has kankles. All her life she was brainwashed to believe her goal in life is to marry a boy from the same culture. She found a not-so-great guy to marry at a young age and have a (ugly) kid with him because he wanted one. Looking at her, thinking about her, makes me want to vomit.

Tuesday, May 15, 2007


It's happened three times in the past month. I dream of a friend and the next day he/she randomly e-mails me or bumps into me. We don't routinely contact each other. For instance, I wouldn't expect an e-mail from EC at the same time every month. I'd like to think that I have a minute psychic connection with certain people. Or maybe it's just that there's a certain period of time that's considered a long time to not hear from someone, so my friend or I will initiate contact with each other. Of course, this non-contact period will differ with various friends. It depends on how much you like them and/or how involved they are in your daily life. I can't go a week without talking to a few people, and others I can go without communication for a few months. It's not a reflection on how important they are to me though. I think when you're living in a different city from someone it's hard to keep each other updated on your daily lives. This article has gone way off the original path (as most my articles do) and I think it only makes sense to me.

Monday, May 14, 2007

20 year old girl parties all night long

Why does the media make such a big deal about young famous people who get pissed/take drugs/have different sex partners. Young people do that anyway. At least celebrities have the money to be as wild as they want, have the fame to sleep with whoever they want, and have the clothes to look as fabulous as they can be. Are there many young girls who actually think "oh, Lindsay Lohan takes copious amounts of drugs, maybe I should too." Drinking when you're a teenager is firmly entrenched in the Australian culture. Mischa Barton shouldn't take any credit for that! Do the Gen X/Y alcoholics and drug addicts blame Drew Barrymore for her doped up antics as a nine year old? I wonder how many nine and ten year olds in the 80s experimented with drugs and acohol because Drew did.

The celebrities way of partying is much more glamorous than the suburban equivalent of going to your local pub in your low cut jeans and clevage showing top, spending your week's supermarket wage on drugs and hooking up with Bogan Barry.

I am the green eyed monster

I have a love/hate relationship with food blogs. On the one hand they give me ideas on where to eat and what to cook. On the other hand the writers make me feel jealous, not because of the food they eat but the company they have to eat with! These bloggers regularly visit new restaurants with their friends and are able to try new recipies to test out on other people. I don't have a regular group of friends whom I visit new restaurants with, and I don't have anyone to cook for. In fact, my friends, knowing how much of a foodie I am, will relay to me their experiences at various restaurants but will not even think of inviting me, normally because there's a girlfriend, boyfriend or date involved. Knowing people like this makes me cherish one of my best friends even more. She will drive at any lengths with me to eat at a particular place. Unfortunately we don't live in the same country anymore so going on adventures like that will only be a fond memory.

I've always been an insanely jealous person. In kindergarden I cried whenever my "boyfriend" of the whole year would talk to another girl. When he tried to apologize I'd just be sulky and ignore him, and one of our mums would have to intervene to make things better between us. Things haven't changed much.

I hate it when I'm left out of information, and I hate it when people don't invite me to things. I wonder why people choose to hang out with me in the first place. Maybe I'm the person who provides light entertainment on occasion but is not a good person to hang around with all the time. I'm the Urkel.

Maybe because food is a relatively new interest of mine that I don't have a foodie group yet. After years of searching for gig buddies, I've finally met a few people I can call on to attend gigs with me. Do I really want to get that deep into becoming a foodie though? I'll probably need two seats on the plane ride to Toronto if that became the case.

Sunday, May 13, 2007

Should I feel sorry for them?

I just watched a 60 Minutes segment about a man who fell for a Nigeran banking scam. You know, you get an e-mail in your junk mail folder that goes along the lines of "Greetings Sir. I am the son of the late President Mutakaka and I am e-mailing you to ask for your help. I need someone trustworthy to take care of US$1,000,000 for me. Please send me your bank account details so I can transfer this money to you."

It turned out that he sent the Nigeran con men money several different times, in the promise that he would receive a larger sum in return. Eventually they sent him a fake cheque for US $31,500,000. Even after receiving the fake cheque, and even after being told by the authorities that the men were con artists, HE KEPT SENDING THEM MONEY!!!! Why should we feel sorry for his stupid actions? Sure, he lost all his money, his house, and his businesses, but IT WAS HIS FAULT. The blame game is the number one sport of our country. People never assume responsibility for their own actions. No, don't blame the man's stupidity but the cunningness of the Nigerian con men.

I never watch TV but I sometimes have it on for background noise. Commercial TV nowadays loves to show real stories of the stupid, annoying, fat and whinging. I can't believe there's an audience for this material. It's like the readers of Take Five magazine too over the reigns of TV production so they can show the 'real' stories of 'real' Australians. What happened to the good ol TV viewing days of becoming addicted to the latest (American) sitcom or drama. Other than The Chaser, I can't think of any other Australian show I'd rather watch than, say, Arrested Development, Curb Your Enthusiasm, The Sopranos and even Scrubs (despite the annoyingness of J.D). When I watch TV I want to escape reality. I don't want to be confronted with the annoying types of people I encounter in public and at work everyday. I couldn't give a shit about their lives (especially if they have an annoying voice).

Saturday, May 12, 2007

Good for nothing

Last week I finished a short film script for a competition I was eager to enter, but after working on it for the past seven days, my initial enthusiasm for my script has turned to hatred. I can't think of another short film script to write. Maybe I'm just not cut out to be a script writer. I'm not good at anything. Is it my fate to work be another boring office worker and not contribute anything creative to society? Maybe I should accept my fate and marry a sensible Chinese boy who listens to Boyz II Men and Brian Adams, buy a McMansion in the outer suburbs, have kids while I'm of child bearing age, get an admin job at an insurance company and have gossip magazine readers as friends. At least I'll be able to fine tune my only skill of baking cakes.

I can never follow through with anything. Not even suicide attempts. The three times I tried to kill myself I whimped out at the last minute because I was afraid that my attempts would result in paralyzation or brain damage rather than death, and I'd rather be dead than be paralyzed or retarded. If I wanted to commit suicide again, I'd have to do something dramatic like stand on a train track or jump off a thirty floor building. I'm worried than drinking a bottle of poison would just destroy my organs and I'd have to stay in a hospital for the rest of my life. How shit would that be. If I had the internet back in my suicidal days, I could have Googled "how to commit suicide" and got the job over and done with.

I'm at the peak of my cultural apathy tonight because I've been browsing celebrity gossip sites! I've stooped that low!!!

I still like writing though. I just finished a short story that I'm happy about. None of it is good enough to be published though. People tell me that writing is a skill people are born with and that enrolling in a writing course is useless if you already have the talent. However if I don't study writing, it will be something that will nag me for the rest of my life. I'm not confident in my skills so I mostly want to do a course to fine tune what I already know. I wish I had a writing tutor. Someone I can show my work to and ask how I can improve it. The only thing holding me back from doing a course now is my pending move to Toronto. That's it, I think I'll enrol in a writing course when I'm in Toronto.

If writing fails, maybe I should try photography as a creative outlet.

Ok, time for me to stop complaining and do something constructive.

Monday, May 7, 2007

Yum yum yum

My journey into becoming a hard core foodie (or, how I'm now the fattest I've ever been) started about a year and a half ago. Sick of supermarket bread, I went on my first foodie's expidition to find the best bakery bread on my side of town. After months of carbo loading, I settled on Filou's chewy and tasty wholemeal loaves. It tasted like the homemade bread my mum used to make with her bread making machine. The smell of bread baking to the time that you wake up is a better alarm than the annoying beep of my Nokia. Every house needs a bread making machine like they need a microwave (although I prefer stove top heating rather than microwaves).

The problem with being a foodie is that now I've tried the best of everything, I can't go back to eating grilled chicken breast salad for dinner every night. I was once a very plain, healthy eater. Fruit, vegetables, tuna and grilled meat was satisfactory. On some occasions I wouldn't even feel the need to eat. I know there are ways to make healthy food interesting. Believe me, I could write my own healthy recipies book. But my brain is now telling me to eat like a glutton at every meal, and to not resist temptation. On Thursday I walk past Let Them Eat Cake and want to buy a cupcake. On Saturday I walk to Filou's to buy a chocolate cherry brioche. On Sunday I go to A1 to buy a cheese pie. I tell myself each time that it's a treat, but how often do I need to have these treats? There should be a way that I can balance my love for food with a healthy lifestyle. Well, I'm running more to compensate for my daily indulgences. Getting fit is actually quite fun because it gives me a goal other than to make the perfect hot cross buns.

I'm extremely spoilt for choice in places to eat in Brunswick. I wonder if I will be as lucky in Toronto. If I can't find anywhere good to eat there, at least I will lose weight.

Friday, May 4, 2007

Movie list

These recently viewed films made made me laugh, think, cry and feel inspired.


I fell in love with Marc-Andre Grondin.

A Guide to Recognizing Your Saints

I fell in love with Robert Downey Jnr's puppy dog eyes.

Running with Scissors

I fell in love with Annette Benning's wardrobe in the first third of the film and the first house the Burroughs family lived in.

The Namesake

I fell in love with the director, Mira Nair, for the way she shot India and drawing out incredible performances from the cast.

Half Nelson

I fell in love with Ryan Gosling. He was hot as a junkie.

The Devil and Daniel Johnston

I fell in love with Daniel Johnston's mad, creative genius like that depicted of Anton Newcomb in Dig!.


Dustin Hoffman acted in his best films in the 70s.

Ggrrr don't ask me out when he/she's there!

You know I hate your girlfriend/boyfriend, don't ask me to hang out when you're with her/him. I'd rather stay at home plucking my eyebrows. If you want to see me, do it separately and add in other friends to the mix. I find your girlfriend/boyfriend extremely annoying/quiet/anti-social/serious/judgemental/unfunny/controlling/needy/sad/whimpy/rude.

I only consider two of my friends partners' as my own friends. Altough I met an ex of a friend who I got along with fantastically. If they were still going out I wouldn't mind hanging out with the both of them at all.

I hate MSN

If people are really busy, they shouldn't go on MSN! They are obviously online to talk to someone. It's the most obvious form of brushing someone aside. ICQ was better than MSN because you could appear offline to everyone and select the few who you want to appear online too. On MSN, you have to either block everyone on your list except the person you want to talk to, or appear "busy" or "away" all the time so that if people send you messages you can ignore them or tell them you are too busy too chat. The word 'block' is more harsh than appearing 'invinsible'. Block infers to push someone out of your life forever, whereas invinsible means to hide out from people once in awhile.

I used to have a brain

To take a line from Nina Simone's "I can't see nobody" - "I used to have a brain; I used to think of many things."

When I go for walks or I'm sitting on the tram, I'm conscious of when I'm not thinking. Nothing comes to mind to think about other than worrying about not thinking. I can't think of short film scripts because they develop as I write. I switch off from my day job the moment I exit my office doors. My thoughts usually comprise of personal worries and whoever is taking my fancy at the time. I'm oblivious to most events happening in the world. Maybe I just don't see any point in worrying about situations that I feel I have no control over. I don't like anyone at the moment, which has made me feel more content than I have ever been in the past few years. Not having a love interest has been fantastic because I'm less preoccupied about my looks, more focused on saving money to move to Candada next year and making my short film. I'm dressing like a tomboy again, wearing glasses (which I love though because they're these) and gained weight because I have no care about acquiring a boyfriend. I know, I'm a disappointing feminist and I should have more self-respect. I should want to look good for myself, not for a man! I was told that the events in your past life shape what happens to you now. I wonder if I bound my feet in a past life to increase my marriage prospects. That would also explain why I was born with feet problems.

Oi vey where is my mind...

I think I'm desperate to go back to uni, but I can't enrol at the moment because I'm saving to go overseas. This is the year of sacrificing my brain for potentially greater experiences next year.

Porridge variations

Banana porridge

1. Cook porridge as per directions on packet.
2. After it's cooked mix in one mashed banana.
3. Sprinkle cinnamon, sultanas/currants and slithered almonds.

Pear oats

1. Throw in a pear into a pot of boiling water (twice the amount of water to cover the pear). Add cinnamon and ginger spice powder. Boil till pear is soft.
2. Add in rolled oats. Stir until cooked.

Apple oats

Same directions as for pear oats, except leave out the ginger spice.

How to ruin a day

Wear really uncomfortable shoes to stand in the whole day. Fuck these shoes. The flat sole deceived me. Flat does not equal comfortable. Oh, make sure they don't have good grip so you have trouble walking across smooth surfaces. You may even slip a few times. Damn these shoes. Why can't people make simple, comfy ballet flats? These were the only pair I could find after looking all over Melbourne. Does everyone wear boots, heels and wedges? Surely there must be a market my age for plain black leather ballet flats.

Also forget to wear a belt when wearing loose pants. Whenever I lose weight it comes off from the hips first. My hips aren't even big to begin with! My pants and jeans always, always slip down. It makes it look to others that I'm purposely showing off my arse crack, but I'm not - I simply have no arse and hip flesh to fill out my pants! I can never run in my jeans because they'll fall to my knees, even when I buckle my belt tightly. Why can't I loose weight in my face or stomach instead? I know my back would be happy without the two boobs hanging off it. Yes, when you're fat, you have two sets of boobs - one on the chest and the other on the back. You fatties know what I'm talking about.

Thursday, May 3, 2007

Dealing with people

There are two or three people whom I think I can hang out with more than three times a week without getting sick of them. I can't say this with conviction, since at times I've needed a break from seeing these people too. One of these people hasn't even really reached good friend status yet, but we hang out with each other three to four times a week and I'm happy to do that because he's easygoing and we get along well. The point is, I prefer to spend time alone and when I do socalize, I'm quite picky in the people I choose. I need a break from seeing most people (even good friends) if I've hung out with them two times in a week, and I especially begin to feel suffocated when anyone from this group asks for my time more than once or twice a week. I like to balance out the time I spend with my different friends. My social network is quite fragmanted. I don't have a big group of friends who know each other. Each of my friends are from differnent areas of my life. I'm most comfortable hanging out in a group of three. When I'm just hanging out with one other person, I feel so much pressure to avoid awkward silence that I end up rambling and laughing to much. Maybe that's why internet dates never worked out for me. Here's a psychiatrist's theory - I'm scared of a conversation going silent because all the way up to the age of 15, I was very quiet and people hated me for it.

I know a guy who I think can only tolerate to hang out with me once every few months. If I ask him to hang out again a few days after we've seen each other, he most likely won't even answer my call or reply my SMS. I think he'd rather chat with me on the internet than talk to me in person, which is fair enough because the online me is wittier and smarter (only because while chatting, I can Google things he's said that I don't understand). Anyone who doesn't know me in person must be wondering how unarticulate and slow I am in real life, given that the writing in this blog isn't much to go by. It's true, I'm one of the stupidest people I know, not many people are stupider than me (except the lady in my office who spells 'neighbours' as 'naiberous' and 'great' as 'grate'). It's one thing to be able to memorize your way through a degree, it's another to not finish school but do well in life because of smart decisions and ambition.