oh bloody hell i've lost my post.

I wrote like a billion words. now I can't be bothered to type out my entire pet history. This is going to have to wait till another time.

BUGGER!

bugger.

I'm getting bored with my blog.

See, I haven't had much to post about recently, purely because I've been taking a bit of a break from everything. I think that being in perth for so long has seriously dulled my sense quite a fair bit 'cause I'm seriously out of it. Like, ALL the bloody time.

I think everyone must think I'm stoned 'cause my reaction speed could equal a slug.
::why not a snail? because slugs are faster than snails> no heavy baggage: and I don't think I've really lost all my marbles yet.::
"Wha'??" and "Ehh?" is pretty much my basic vocabulary. Yeah. I'm exaggerrating, I do say "huh?" from time to time too.
So, I've decided to take a break, and relax a bit, and gradually ease into my new life. See how I fit in. And so far, it hasn't happened. But not to worry, it probably will. I mean, I have to get used to it - it's not a friggin' choice to make. So if anybody could throw a few pointers in about getting used to a faster paced life after a couple of years in a much slower-paced country, do let me know. I could really use some advice now that my quality of life has gone down.

I took up a new hobby> i.e.: flower arrangement because my mom has gone off on this "flower arranging is cool" tangent.
Actually, it's pretty damn cool 'cause the whole house is filled with flower arrangements and she's not bad at it. I feel like I'm living in a hotel.

So, spurred on by her creative efforts one day, I decided to give it a go. I mean, why not. Even if it sucks, I'll just hide it in a corner of my room and no one will ever know that I've made such a pathetic attempt.
But I was really surprised. It didn't turn out too badly, in fact, it was pretty damned good, if i may say so myself. (I should've taken a picture of it then, but I didn't expect to be blogging about it, so I'll keep it in mind for my next arrangement.)
Even though my chief goal was to make an artsy, aesthetically pleasing arrangement, and the bloody thing died within like 3 days, I'm still fairly proud of it's short-lived glory.

Bring on flower arrangement numero duo.
This time, instead of a flat style pot, I got this really nice crystal vase, and shaped my sponge and everything. This time, my chief goal was to make the damned thing last longer than just 3-4 days. Unfortunately, it looks awful. Just looking at it makes me cringe in shame. So even though I said I would take a picture of the next arrangement, i.e.: this fugly piece of shite, I'm too embarrassed to. If i do a really great piece though, I'll enlarge it for the masses. Show I'm really an artistic genius.

But what I'd really like to do is learn how to play "Claudine" (Maksim style) (on my dinky little piano that my mom wants to throw away) 'cause it's such a beautiful piece. And I usually quite dislike classical music 'cause classical music is for snobs or boring people, but this is different. I dunno, it somehow relaxes me.

I like happy posts.

I like 'em sooo much, I'ma going to post more comics.

Everyone needs a laugh.

P.S: everyone > this ain't my stuff.

(all copyrighters - same as below post: I'm poor so don't sue me.)



I really quite like Wizard of ID sometimes.

Dedicated to everybody's whose parents have said that africa thing a billion times before.

This is hilarious for reasons unknown to me. What if it has eyes?

Hot Coffee!!

if anybody feels the urge to express their gratitude to me for brightenening up their days, feel free to get the above for me.

I don't mind if its not giftwrapped.

cheers y'all.

A happier post.

My last post is so miserable, and in case everyone thinks I overdose on prozac just to step out of my room :-


For a laugh.

And for any copyright issues I may have for publishing these pictures, These pictures aren't mine folks. (Authors:I absolutely know its your stuff and I'm very poor so don't sue me)

This makes me feel better when I'm having 'fat' days.

This was picked off some site that sold chickens, and the picture was aptly titled 'hairy chicken'.

No explanation neccessary.

That's all , folks.

Another time, another day.

Lazy bugger.

I really am not normally so lazy.
I've a billion things to do and I really need to get off my lazy ass to go get things done, especially with a 5 day workweek and no chance to get anything done during the week.
But I cannot be bothered to run here and there, doing these poxing errands. I literally feel tired allthebloodytime.

I know this is a meaningless rant, and frankly, I don't give a shit.
See, during my students days, my typical day went something like: sleep at 6-7am, wake up around 4:30pm, have a loooong hot shower until about 5-6ish, which would be pretty much time to get dinner ready. So I'll be in the kitch getting my grub ready, and dinner by the telly by 7. and the telly has my full attention till about 11pm, where the com would take my attention till about 6-7am. And I had enough sleep, enough fun, and with only a meal a day, I managed to stay fairly well off. ish. So i was well rested and skinny (as skinny as I ever managed to get between 12 and 22), and I sorely, sorely miss those days.

I'm tired of waking up at 6am in the fucking morning. It's inhuman, and my dog doesn't even get up that early. I like my com, but looking at the bloody thing from 8am to 5:45pm is fucking nuts.
I'm so tired of getting home at 7, and managing to catch my serial drama at 7pm and dead in bed by 10pm, for crissakes. I'm either getting too little sleep or too much of it, because I reckon I'm as unhealthy as I can get.

And I can't even drive yet, I need to learn how to drive so I can actually catch that further 15-20 minutes more sleep in the morning, which should help me not be a total zombie with a very bad temper in the morning, but I'm so fucking tired I can't even get off my ass to get to those bloody lessons.

I'm so demoralized. Why should i fucking take lessons? I can drive, I can park, and why am I still at fucking stage 2? I don't get it.

Reviewing all the crap that I've written so far, all I can say is that I've somehow morphed into a thirteen year old again.

A whiny thirteen year old that hates everything.

:(

Life sucks. It really does.

I wish...

I'm tired of blogging about my job. I mean, just in case everyone thinks I'm a responsible young adult who's focused on her career (that I am, too.) My rant of choice for today will be my 'rents.

So what about the 'rents? Well I'm living with them, that's what. I'm hardly able to go out there and live on my own, I'd prolly die of starvation in a week, in a homeless squat unfit for any living life. But living with the 'rents after 5 blissful years of freedom in OZ land (schooling) makes me feel like I'm being stifled. Ok, understatement of the year, it's a bloody dictatorship, complete with the Nazi heroes and concentration camps. I mean, it's like living in a hole, where you have no freedom and you basically do whatever they tell you to. Uh-exaggeration.

But I feel like I'm being treated like I was 6 years old all over again.

There's Chinese tonic soup brewed by the gallon which brings new meaning to the phrase 'tastes like shit'. Actually, that phrase is too good for it. Imagine a black sticky vomitous brew that somehow miraculously manages to taste bitter and sour and with an foul aftertaste that tastes somewhat like food that's gone bad for years. Now that's something nasty. And I've been swallowing that shite under much protest since I was a little tot. Isn't that something? I'm amazed I didn't die.

And if that wasn't bad enough, the 'rents have all these weird chinese beliefs. It's like living in China, and even the China chinese are totally modern these days.

Sometimes I wish I was born and raised in America, so I can escape all this antiquated chinese shit that my 'rents bring out by the dozen. I mean, there is only so many times I will change my sleeping arrangements just cause some feng shui guy says facing north and planting some sick chinese shit will enhance my life. I don't think so. Besides, it takes time for your body to get used to sleeping in a certain position. Trying to manuever your body into tricky twists and turns to get comfortable makes for very temporary sleep. So I'm pretty much pissed off that I can't even get a decent night's sleep.

But on the other hand,there's some things to like about chinese traditions.

Forex, New year. Every year.

There's lovely lovely New Year's Celebrations.
I like no, I love CNY. New clothes (always a joy to have more stuff to wear), new everything : shoes, undies, bags, the whole shebang. And the best part is we get cold hard cash in red packets throughout the 3-4 days of celebrating CNY from people we don't even know. And these strangers give us money just for saying hello and happy cny. What a great deal. Going to strangers' houses and eating all the sweets and chocolate, biscuits and junk food. And don't forget the fabulous nightly feasts and reunion dinner. It makes for a highly satisfying celebration. And it would be the perfect holiday for me except for the part where my 'rents insist on playing highly embarassing chinese new year music complete with the cymbal clashes and tooting trumpets. Really vomit-inducing stuff, innit.

I reckon that CNY beats all other celebrations, except it might equal christmas. But then, receiving money is wayy better than receiving christmas presents because for 12 christmases running, I've had all the shite presents that I really did not want. And I really don't think I'm alone here.

Very randomly, (cause I'm at work and skiving to be able to get my posts out - isn't my determination relentless?) My stupid supp has managed to outdo all my other shit supps by having a late delivery of 7 weeks. And he looks set for another 7 more. Isn't he amazing?

I think I need a holiday.

Why I like my job. Sometimes.

There are times when I quite appreciate my job and the things that I have to do, being my job scope.
It's fairly broad in terms of my duties, but most of it still remains in human to human contact. I.e.: communicating with morons.

I do like chatting with other people in the line. They can be very nice/ funny sometimes, but more often than not, I find myself half crying with frustration, banging my head on the phone and pleading with God to kill me instantly.

All my sadness and joy stem from one main source - my suppliers. Supps for short. So, there are great supps and there are shit supps. And we really have to live with both kinds, because you need to have experienced the shit supps to really gain an appreciation your great supps. Believe me when I say that the shit supps WAYYYY outnumber the great ones.
And I have had instances where I can't help but laugh at the sheer idiocy of some of these shit supps.

Shit supps are easily identifiable by a few indicators:-

1. They only send their quotations by fax. And they never use email as a means of communication. So by the time you receive their quote, it's disfigured beyond imagination so imagination is all you pretty much have left.
2. They never type out their quotations, preferring the authentic handwritten style favoured by old mom & pop companies. This style of quoting was made fashionable in the 1900s and has carried on this the 21st century despite the invention of the computer, which may still be viewed as a marvel not for daily use to enhance a business's operating speed and efficiency. They also insist upon enforcing their legacy of 'doctor's handwriting' of illegibility so that the receiver of the dreaded quote has no choice but to call them and be subjected to a barrage of chinese abuse, because according to them, "I write already!"
3. They chop all their quotes and they chop 'em well. By 'well' I mean that they chop them horizontally so the barest hint of blue shows up. Of course, the fax machine makes another comeback and very nicely slurs the whole 0.00005 inches worth of chop mark into a speckled blot. So of course when you receive the smudge-y fax, you half-kill yourself straining your eyes to read who was the idiot who did the quote so you can call the mofo to scream obscenities at him.
4. My eyes and my brain hurt. I don't want to think about these people anymore. See above and repeat should you need more reasons why my life sucks.

Note to self: I must not over-exaggerate. I must not over-exaggerate.

Why my eye health is poor dealing with these people:
See, sometimes, they don't have a whole heap of time to spend on typing out beautiful quotations (unlike moi, who is time poor but still types out beautiful quotations), and they scribble their chicken scratch on and send it off.
And the fax machine is a fine way to defect anything sent through it into visual obscurity (Another reason why I quite like to use it too).

Forex, If you can direct your eyes below at this excellent example of piss poor handwriting, perhaps you can understand why I refer to the term 'chicken scratch'.

If you look carefully at the dollar signs $$$, you can actually see how it slowly degenerates into an incomprehensible squiggle (there's no other word for it). And it happens all the time. I apologize if i've offended any poor buggers out there whose handwriting resembles the shit above, but really. There are dogs that can pee straighter and neater lines than some of the shit I get presented with.

Not everything is the fax machine's fault.

I know it's quite pathetic how I collect these little trivialités but hey, it's my penchant de spécialité, and (hanging my head in shame) I will stop with the french now. (bring out the french fries jokes! - Not.)


Yes, this is just a small taste of how lame I can really be when I want to.

2 posts in a day! I'm golden.

I feel this insane urge to write. You may think that it is because I am a very literary person, and must share all my prose and literature with the world. You may also think that I am literally full of shit. And now you may think that I'm just bored.

But I have to explain that work is frankly, a crock of shite. I've had it with writing 1001 emails that all sound the same.
"Dear Sir, I don't know what I'm talking about and I'm sure you don't too. Kindly advise. Regards, Moron. XXX Company, Dodgy Address, 3rd World Country."

I don't know how I got to become this bitter excuse for a human being.

Being a student was great, if all you wanted was to sleep throughout lectures and play sims 1 throughout the night. I mean, that was what I did 24/7, which may create the impression in your mind that I am quite possibly the geekiest living thing alive, and you may not be far off about that.
But the point is that I was living a well rounded lifestyle with the ability to sleep whenever I wanted. And we all know that sleep is a luxury. Also a neccessity.

I can't afford my neccessary luxury now, because work bloody starts at 8:15 am in the morning, and the stupid office just has to be somewhere in Timbuktu because it takes me an hour and a bit to get to work. So that means I have to wake up earlier to compensate for road time. Which that little immature part of me really doesn't want to accomodate. I mean, I should just fly there. It is so annoying that someone hasn't invented time travel or some form of supersonic speed travel.

I'm tired and terribly bored. I'm going to go earn my pay now. And maybe try to play sims and sleep when I get home later. Viva Studente!

What's in a blog

I had one. A blog, I mean. And it was totally popular, which is prolly why I shut it down. Due to overuse. And of course, i wasn't able to catch with all the daily posts, and the once in a year regular replies.

But I'm thinking there might be something to this.

So obviously, me, in my typical shallowness, have decided to re-start my blogging, even though I might never get any replies or comments or get blog-of-the-year award. Because blogging, as it seems, is extremely popular.
And it has nothing whatsoever to do with the fact that I've got an hour or 2 free everyday at work.