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Showing posts with label lol. Show all posts
Showing posts with label lol. Show all posts

Monday, May 18, 2009

Let's fuck this shit up y'all.

Just a few points.

- The alarm clock that my parents use to wake me up in the morning if they're both at work makes me want to fucking die. It is evil and its shrill sounds were concocted in the cesspits of hell.

- Tonight is going to be one of those nights where homework gets done only by caffeine and light of a phone under the quilt... Not fun.

- While today was not productive school wise, I did piss off vast amounts of people simply be repetitively singing the Shrek karoake dance party song, or whatever the hell its called. Day --> definitely successful. And if you don't know what I'm talking about, you're more of a douche than the guy who essentially broke up with a close friend over Failbook. Really.

- For the record, you dickface of the previous point, if I was gangster and violent and shit, right about now and yesterday I'd be all like, "Let's fuck his shit up! Son of a bitch goin downnn." I'd obviously throw in some "Aww hell naww"s, something about getting all up in his grill, and definitely "being about to bust a cap in his ass". Luckily for you, I'm not like that, or *insert gangster slang for "i'd kill you" here*. That's right. I'm not someone ya wanna mess with.

- I've been like this all day. This is why I should sleep more and this is why I was asked to "sew [my] lips together like those people in refugee camps". Detention centres...

- I have friends who obviously love me greatly. See former point.

- Oh, Mr Orange. To put it nicely, please staythefuck out of this situation. You know what I'm talking about.

- As for said situation, it's better than it's been in the longest time. Since... August I think. At least, I think it was good.

- I've wished for ages that my eyes would change their shade of colour in accordance with my mood. Today I mentioned this and was looked at like I was crazy. Which is probably true, but still. It would be cool and nothing changes that! Take that, bitches.

- I laughed a lot at something I said today. Yes, I'm that annoying person who finds their jokes hilarious and laughs for ages, while everyone around them hates them for being shit at life. It's all just a part of my day. But anyway, "I put the 'ass' in 'class'. Classy." Bitch, please.

- On that note, this post draws to a close. I'll be back tomorrow with some more of my stupid shit, possibly a further rant at afore-mentioned "dickface", maybe even a post on my long neglected "Let's Talk About the Tour Guide", or perhaps some more of my gloomy outtakes on life. Coz I'm emo like that.

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Sunday, April 19, 2009

Because Stupid People are Hilarious

Check out this site. Its called (The Customer Is) Not Always Right, and details hilarious exchanges between customers and those working in various jobs. Sometimes, people are dumb. Really dumb.

For instance,
"What A Kilo-Moron

Pizza | Vancouver, BC, Canada

Customer: “Hi, can you tell me how big an order of breadsticks is?”

Me: “Well, a small is 6, and a large is 12.”

(The customer and his wife confer for a moment before he turns back to me.)

Customer: “We’re from the States; we don’t use the metric system. Can you convert it?”"


Case #2

Jurassic Farce
Customer Service | Florida, USA

Customer: “I need some help locating the item that this coupon advertises. I’ve looked everywhere and just can’t find it.”

Me: “Let’s see if I can help you here…” *looks at the coupon* “I’m sorry ma’am, we don’t sell this item anymore.”

Customer: “Why not? I have a coupon for it. I wanted to get it for my husband for his birthday next week.”

Me: “Ma’am, this coupon was expired fifteen years ago. They no longer make this product.”

Customer: “Can’t you go look for one? I really need it, it would be perfect for him.”

Me: “…sure! It just so happens that I developed a machine that can warp the space/time continuum. Would you like to accompany me on the trip or would you like to stay here?”

Customer: “REALLY? Thank you so much! I’ll stay here and wait for you.”

(I go into the back room for a couple of minutes to let my manager know what I’m about to do, then come back out running.)

Me: “MA’AM! RUN FOR YOUR LIFE! I MESSED UP AND WENT BACK TOO FAR! I ENDED UP GOING BACK TO THE AGE OF THE DINOSAURS AND THERE’S A PISSED-OFF VELOCIRAPTOR RIGHT BEHIND ME!”

Customer: “OH NO! I’LL GO CALL THE POLICE!” *runs out of the store*

(I went back to my manager after the customer ran off, and he was literally rolling on the ground laughing.)




Yes, people are THAT gullible. Also check out FML.

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Thursday, April 9, 2009

I love Google Analytics

What kind of person googles this? "Well i just found out something really random. i found out that i've been so insensitive about things. ugh! i dunno what to say anymore (lol). i swear"

Just sayin', that is absolutely ridiculous to actually try to look up...

I will admit, this search that lead to my blog amused me somewhat - "you better hold on tight spider monkey what does this mean" (thanks to one of my posts bitching about Twilight)

and while I like shoes, a lot, this also worries me a little. They are just shoes.. "point out that cinderella is living proof that shoes can change your life?"


Conclusion - People search for the strangest of things over the internetz.

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Wednesday, April 8, 2009

Shop Till You Drop Part II

Or, Why I Hate My Bra Size

ISWEARTOGODITISIMPOSSIBLEFORMETOFINDBRAS. Okay, near impossible. My mum tells me I should quit with the exaggerating, but where's the fun in saying "I haven't seen you in a week", when I can say "I haven't seen you in like, fifty years!"? Lie? Yes. But, entertaining to me for some completely unknown and probably inexplicable reason? Also yes. And that, folks, is what counts. [And yes, I do use "like" far too much in conversation. However, no, I never actually say "folks"...]

Now, I used to like bra shopping. So many pretty bras. Then... Well, I became the bra size that I am today. I actually hate bra shopping. Bras in my size just aren't that common, and even when I do find any that are the right size on the tag, each bra is different blah blah, and more often than not, they don't actually fit me. Apparently big cup size and small chest don't normally go together. You know what I have to say to that? Fuck you, bra makers, and fuck you, 10DD.

I don't want to wear granny bras! Besides, my mother doesn't like to spend over $50 on one bra, especially since I am "still growing" and therefore, she'll need to buy more later on. Uh, mum, I actually still need bras now, even if I will need different sized ones in the future! Just sayin'.

But yesterday, I actually found some that fit and were average looking. I don't care if no one else sees my bras, I freaking know what I'm wearing and I want it to be pretty damnit {I am aware that damnit is actually properly spelled dammit, although it is slang and thus, shouldn't even have a proper spelling, to my mind. However, even though it irritates me, I picked it up off a dear friend and it's one of my ways of remembering him, so forgive me this continual spelling error thing... Oh and P.S. Mozilla Firefox spell check, "spelt" is a word >.<)!

Average looking? That ain't gonna cut it. I don't want to be average, I want to be above average. Although you wouldn't be able to tell by my school work...

You know how sometimes I say that people suck? Well, people make bras. Therefore, people suck.

P.S. Remember how the other day, I was bitching about Lady Gaga? That said, this cover of Poker Face is freaking amazing, and I discovered it all thanks to JoJo at I Once Was Captain of Whatever.

Seriously, take a look. It's pretty cool.



And, FYI, I'm actually getting a B in three out of five subjects this term. Don't ask about German and Biology. ;P Also, thanks to my terrible critical analysis skills, my English grade would have been a C, but my recount and oral and the like brought me up, and then my teacher gave me an extra mark for some reason ;D Must work harder next term.

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Tuesday, April 7, 2009

Shop Till You Drop

or, I Feel Slightly Derro Because It Took Till My Jeans Wore Through Before My Mum Would Take Me Shopping

My mum took me shopping at the mall today for an hour and a half before she went to work, because, let's face it, I really needed new jeans. You'd be crazy to deny me that. I'm also low in numbers when it comes to bras, and just, clothing in general. My mother has been convinced that she "bought me clothes only recently" for the past year... Just like she's been saying that she and Dad moved to Australia from India "fourteen years ago" for the past four years.

So anyway, in my unending complaints about the fate of my jeans over the last few days, I've been informed that this happens to many people. So it wasn't, as I was worrying, that my legs are huuuuge and thus caused this to occur. Also take into consideration that I wore these near constantly. So, the wearing out justified, I was all good to search for some more. The problem is, it took me a very long time to find these jeans. I'd wanted black skinny's for ages but every pair I tried on made my legs look fat. It was the jeans, of course. Not my legs...

So, after finally finding the perfect jeans that were now torn beyond repair, I was somewhat nervous to look for some black jeans once more. If I seeked suck? sucked..? oh fuck it: searched, would I find? (Although come to think of it, I really do suck.) It was a question that desperately needed an answer.

It was of some urgency, too, since at school we must wear black pants, and I'm not willing to wear proper school pants, nor trackies. I look utterly slightly ridiculous in both. Anyway, I found a pair pretty much straight off the bat.

It is true, I use nearly every cliche in the book. Even that was a cliche. Was it not? (I wanted to use a cliche just then so it would be funny, but... I kinda really fail at life, like, a lot, so please insert one here)

I wasn't sure about the jeans after trying them on, though, and so, this is the conversation that followed.

Toivoa: "Do these jeans make my legs look fat?"
Toivoa's Mum: "Your legs are fat."
Toivoa: Should have seen that coming. "Be that as it may, does it make my legs look fat? My other jeans didn't."
TM: "That's what you think."
Toivoa: How is my self esteem even as high as it is? "Um. Regardless. Do my legs look fat in these jeans???"
TM: "Just get them..."
"You need to exercise. You eat so much junk."
Toivoa: BAH! (I have good mental comebacks. I copyrighted that one, but you can use it if you want. You're welcome.)

These jeans are really tight. When I put my jeans on, I end up doing this dance in which to get my legs through my jeans because it happens to be more interesting than, well, however ordinary people put their pants on. I kick my legs outward like I'm trying to Irish dance like a Leprechaun, or something.

What can I say? I exude awesome. So much awesome my pants can't contain it. (Which is why my previous jeans tore and these ones are so tight... No? No? Fine.)

I should stop that train of thought.

I do often fall over during this process. Come to think of it, I fall over often full stop. Today, while walking in my jeans and wearing heels, I caught one heel in the folded bottom of my other pant leg and fell onto the couch. My sister and her friend were amused. Charming and graceful.

So, due to the tightness, it takes five minutes to do the fly up. Okay, that's a lie. It does, however, take longer than doing up one's fly ever should. That much is true. I don't really do much to support my "my legs aren't fat" argument, do I?

Although here, my hips are the problem. Okay, so I may as well be screaming, "Hey, it's not just my legs that are fat, but my hips and probably the rest of me too!", but I've never been one to refrain from saying something because it will shoot down my own argument... I'm sorry? Me, illogical and somewhat lacking in brain cells?

... yeah, that sounds about right.

However, I did get the jeans! Then began bra hunting. But I'll leave that for tomorrow...

P.S. On a completely different note (and sorry about this), the shocking state of our world never ceases to horrify me. I can't quite comprehend how a person could reach this point in life. Committing suicide is a horrible enough thing, but deciding to take other people with you, innocent people who you do not even know, who have nothing to do with your situation; that bewilders and sickens me. It makes me so sad.

EDIT (11.53PM): And on another note entirely, I still freaking like Chris. A lot. Can someone tell him that? Since he doesn't seem to know and I don't even see him or get to talk to him, really... I'm so confused!

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Sunday, April 5, 2009

I’d say it was a “foot in mouth” moment but,

Well, I hate feet and thus, the entire concept is rather… vulgar, to my mind, so I steer well clear of that phrase whenever possible. So anyway, about a month and a a half ago, when Italics Boy was in the picture (Have I mentioned how every time I type “Italics Boy” it makes me think of an Italian, due to the similarity between the two words? He is,however, not Italian, if you were wondering…) as the guy I liked, we were in town for the day. After wandering around for hours, we resorted to visiting Target.[Today in church I froze...]
As we walked through the men’s clothing section, I was pointing out shirts I liked and recommended for him. I stopped in front of one and said, “This would be a really nice shirt, if it weren’t for the crappy buttons; they ruin it completely.”
[...during the songs while memories of you played through my head.]
His response - “I have that shirt.”
[Biting my lip to stop the tears.]
Shit. “Really?”
[And then, the other thing,the whole sex thing]
“Yeah.”
[the memories of that joined in.]
Shiiiit. [It's hard to take.]
[ I know it's my fault. But that doesn't stop me from missing you.]
Cue awkward silence in which Toivoa is sufficiently embarrassed.


Edit [7.14PM]: I can't help it. I have fought it for years and years, but it remains. Why God why? It is true, I love Kelly Clarkson... On the other hand, I do want stab Lady GaGa in the face. And that makes me feel a lot better about myself ;PRemember when Random came to the school and Jon got his chest autographed by the singer saying he would marry him? Remember how we were planning t he wedding..? Only thing I'd add to that memory is the other one, she was later, and not soon enough... And I miss moments like that. I'd not have given up any chance to spend even a moment with you if I'd have known where we would be now.

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Tuesday, March 31, 2009

And my mother told me "It's no use crying over spilt milk"

Actually, what she said was more along the lines of "You're going to spill that milk."
"... [smug look]"
"You think you're so smart."
"... [smug look]"
"You'll see."

And less than ten seconds later, I did indeed see.

Last night I was drinking milk whilst using the laptop. Of course, being
ingenious, as I am, I was holding the cup between my teeth [look, no hands!], prompting my mother to issue her dire predictions.

Whaddyaknow. It fell. All over the laptop, over the lounge I was sitting on, on the floor, on my pants (yes, those ones >.<), on my hoodie, in my hair, over my face. EVERYWHERE. My mother was not amused. Needless to say, I was, although also somewhat abashed...

Shoulda taken a picture.

"And Cinderella Lost her Shoe", bringing you Toivoa's extremely uncoordinated moments (or epic fails) online since October 2008 (although under several different names). All events created and enacted by Toivoa, who's simply been bringing them, since 1992.

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OH GOD MY LIFE BE OVER

No, really. Losing the most important people in my life, having to deal with reading "Fresh and rosy-fingered Dawn" every five pages in the copy of "The Odyssey" we are studying in Classical Studies, failing German, crappy haircuts that apparently make me look like John Lennon, breaking my life line aka my mobile with no likelihood of a new one anytime soon, my dad being overseas for three weeks, lack of sleep; all of that, sure, I can deal [that was only half sarcasm]. BUT A HOLE IN MY FAVOURITE JEANS??? You have got to be shitting me.

I mean, come on, I practically live in these jeans. I had hunted for a pair of black skinny leg jeans that my legs didn't look fat in for freaking forever, and when I found them, well, I freaking wore them all the freaking time! I wear them to school, I wear them out, I wear them to church. I wear them everywhere. Sometimes I even wear them to bed. I wore them to Soundwave, an Australian alternative/metal music festival on a day with very high temperatures. They were filled with dust, but they lived through that awesome day with me. How, how can they die now? I do not understand.

See, this happened with one of my previous pairs of jeans also. The hole is suddenly there, so high up on the inside of my thigh that it's almost in crutch area. Okay, it's pretty much there. Yes, I know. It seems really suss. But. WHAT THE HELL??? I just do normal things that one does while wearing jeans. You know, sitting, standing, falling over, running, whatever the hell you do in ordinary life. Occasionally I'll slide on my butt somewhere in them but, come on. HOW DOES THIS FREAKING OCCUR?

I don't understand. Is it because they're really tight and I always sit cross legged in them and they just... frayed? I don't know! All I know is that, well, it's not really advisable for me to wear them any longer. I think I'm going to die. I have no other option. I love my jeans, I am a jeans girl. I cannot pull off trackies, which is why I only ever wear them around the house. I wear jeans on long flights, on long car trips, everywhere. They're so comfortable. I love them. This can't be the end of our long and beautiful friendship, in which they look good on my legs and cover my scars and keep me from having to wear shorts or the school skirt which I need to continually readjust and also expose my scars.

Not all that keen to be labelled the school emo.

Fuck my life.

P.S. Guys, head over to my friend Kate's blog and give some sympathy to someone who really needs it, having lost all information on their hard drive of the last three years. Devastating? It actually is, when you consider all the memories in the form of photographs and other such mementos contained on her computer. So. Send her love, she's awesome. (:

P.P.S. [10.01PM] I. Still. Cannot. Believe. That. Ifrickinbrokemypants. Broke all my phones, broke the keyboard thing, broke my friendships, broke every pair of headphones I have ever owned, broke my flute somehow, and a whole crap load of other stuff. It's official. I break everything.

In other news, I managed to score 75% on an in-class essay about The Odyssey in Classical Studies that I did practically no study for prior. I'm pretty stoked. Chuffed, let's use that. I'm pretty chuffed. But I can't keep fluking it. In the holidays, I will get organised. I want my TER (tertiary entrance rank) score at the end of the year to be a minimum of 90. Not sure if that's even achievable anymore. I need to check that.

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Tuesday, March 24, 2009

"Maybe they'll leave you alone, but not me"

Teenagers may "scare the living shit" out of Gerard Way and co., but for me I get that from children at a much younger stage in their lives. Toddlers. They're terrifying! Don't get me wrong, I love kids. No, that's a lie. It would be more correct to say "I love kid". I'm all cool with them when they are in the singular, or perhaps even two together are okay, and I know them on a personal level. When I have actually met them and get to hang out with them and read them storybooks and play their little games and kowtow to their every whim in the hopes of keeping them from screaming uncontrollably. To be fair, perhaps I don't like the competition. I throw pretty big tantrums... But in a hormonal teenager kinda way. You know, the way that would scare the living shit out of My Chemical Romance...

Anyhow. It is the mobs, the hordes, of the little things that cause me to shudder and cringe. [Isn't horde spelt "hoarde"? No, Mozilla Firefox spell check? >.< ...okay.] For example, the horde in the kindergarten that I must pass as I walk home from school every day. In the morning it's fine since they're either arriving or inside, I don't know and I don't really care. It's in the afternoon that they are out in the garden area to play, feeding off each others' boundless energy.

And as their parents pick them up, letting one or two out through the gate in order to take them home (God knows why), I have been known to let out a scream and jump a mile high when one has run past me in their eagerness and probably on a sugar high... I didn't know it was there! And suddenly a little thing shot past me. You'd scream too. Really.

Note how I refer to them as "it" and "thing". Those children are not humans, I swear. Even when in the singular, I do not know them and if they are not within a centimetre's reach of a parent, I do not like them. I do not trust them. They may look cute, sure, but. They are evil. I dare you to convince me otherwise.

Oh, apart from the ones in the library that run to see Solomon the snake in his cage, peering through the glass on tip toes, eager to see him move. That's just funny, entertaining, and I like those ones because they're not scared of snakes. And yes, I still call them "those ones". They can be assigned genders and proper human status when they're older. ;P

Another reason for my specific dislike of the children at this kindergarten in particular - once, while walking past with my sister, a bunch of them lined up at the fence, holding the bars like little prisoners, as they are prone to do. One dropped their hat outside the bars so I picked it up and returned it to them. (I may not like them but I am nice...) On seeing this, the other fiendish minions decided that this was a brilliant new game, and so, to the sounds of delighted peals of laughter, promptly began throwing their hats through the bars for my sister and I to return. I gave up quickly and began to walk off but my sister, helpless and beguiled by their youth and seeming innocence, continued to try to return their hats, fighting a losing battle. It took much urging on my part to bring her to leave. Evil and conniving.

Anyone else have tales of run ins with the evil ones of that age? No? Fine. I stand by this.

I do want to have my own children some day, but for now I'm not really keen on those stages... Hopefully by the time this comes around, I'll have changed my mind.

Don't even get me started on all the other major flaws I see in the process, and fears; such as the eugh-ness of being pregnant, not to mention GIVING BIRTH (I think my mind just died a little at the thought), and what if I had an ugly baby? Even worse, what if when it grew up and through adolescence and its teenage years, it was ugly? I'm not just being superficial here, although, well, I am; but it would most likely get a lot of shit from other people. People are mean. Look at me. And if it was stupid? So many complications, so many variables... That said, I disagree with the concept of Designer Babies.

So I have an essay to write and this post is essential pointless meaningless rambling; as per most of posts, come to think of it. Maybe I should work on the content of this blog... That's what tomorrow's for. Probably for that essay too...

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Monday, March 16, 2009

Your Beard is Good

You know when you stay up late and you get the munchies? Cravings for something specific, too, and not just a random food group, like chocolate, chips or noodles... Well I just went through a lot of Doritos. And thank god we had Doritos because otherwise I would be sitting here rocking back and forth muttering to myself. Which, I mean, isn't that uncommon for me, but still. (It is uncommon for me. Really)

You may or may not know this, but my parents are Indian. I was born and grew up in Australia and god forbid that you ever should call me Indian because I will hurt you; but I say that I have Indian heritage or some crap coz I get technical about shit like that. There was this one time my best friend used this to prove a point she was making to her boyfriend; that he couldn't be Greek or half Greek with his one Greek parent (or maybe both his parents were Greek, it's been a long time and I forget) because he was born in Australia and since I wasn't Indian, by the same reasoning he wasn't Greek. It went something like that, I think.

Anyway, where was I? Doritos are good. No, I was past that. Ah. Not to be racist but I'm not keen on Indians. I do not like Indians. Okay, it's not that I don't like Indians. I just avoid contact with them (I'm really not helping my cause, am I?)... Apart from my family, a few people at my church, and Jimit, I don't know no Indians here (Thank god). It's not that I have a problem with Indians. I just don't want people to think I'm trying to start Little India here or something. When people move to another country, I think its important to try and participate in the country's lifestyle, culture, all that jazz. It really pisses me off when people move to another country and want to keep living as though they're in the country they just left. By this I mean countries which are notably different to each other. For example, India --> Australia.

It's all well and good to keep in touch with your own culture, hang out with people who understand come from the same place, keep the memories and stories alive. All that. But at least try to immerse yourself in this new place, or what is the point of moving? I even got angry at Daniel Brown for saying that he only became an Australian citizen because it was convenient, and told him to get the hell back to England. Okay, who am I kidding, I just like to argue with Daniel Brown. But, still.

I had a point (this happens far too often).

So when I became friends with Jimit I was all weird about it because, well, he was Indian. And I didn't want people to think I was like Daniel Brown, that is if he was Indian and female and awesome ;D but ungrateful for living in one of the most awesome countries ever (not that I'm biased or anything). I mean, in the respect that I just wanted to recreate India here in Adelaide and only hang with the other Indians. Even though I'm not Indian, but having Indian parents and all, I look Indian. But apparently not that Indian. I think whoever it was who didn't realise I was of Indian ethnicity was perhaps slightly blind, but I wasn't about to complain.

Oh, and I should probably be nicer to Daniel Brown, he occasionally lends me pens and money and goes on Maccas runs for us at lunch times...

Or I could just keep going the way I am and find some other hapless soul to borrow and extort from. It's not that hard. Apparently I look somewhat trustworthy. And I do pay people back. It just doesn't always happen as soon as possible. Hold me to this - Alex, I will return your five dollars, before the end of this year.

Besides, his name is Daniel Brown. He's one of those people, the ones whose first name can't be said on its own. He is simply Daniel Brown. Not Daniel, never Brown, occasionally Brown Daniel (one of the hang ups of having a colour / adjective for a last name); but either way his first and last name cannot be separated. Does he have a middle name? I don't know. It matters not. He is Daniel Brown. I dare you to call him only by Daniel.

Try it.

It feels wrong.

You'll see.

Ahem. So, Jimit. After being friends, we went through the whole "friends who also hook up just coz" thing. When I actually began to like him, I got very mad at myself. My one rule was "never get with an Indian". Okay I'm sure I have a few other rules but that was probably the only one I had distinctly thought out.

I justified it, though, because he had been here pretty much his whole life, had no accent (which would have been a major problem), definitely didn't think like an Indian (again, maaaajor problem that would have been), and yeah that's pretty much it. Oh and we'd had the same "never get with an Indian" rule. So we both broke that. After the "dating unofficially and half secretly" stage, we're now just back to being normal friends. Although to be honest we never really had that before.

I think you get my point. I go out of my way to avoid Indians. You probably got that within my first paragraph on this topic, after the whole Doritos thing. I'm aware that was completely pointless. What can I say? I do completely pointless well. (Yes, it is something to be proud of) (:

Hopefully you actually stayed with me this long. Because, besides the few I mentioned I like, and Russell Peters since he's funny (strange, him being a comedian and all), I have now found another Indian person who I wouldn't mind affiliating with. I'm pretty sure "affiliating" is something along the lines of "associating" so if I got that incredibly wrong and implied something I didn't mean to, yeah, just go with associating and pretend I'm right.

This Indian blogs, and he is awesome. Yes, I said it. I don't know why. But unlike me, he is "down with brown". I quote. But hey, I'm not racist. Really!

Anyway go check him out at Your Beard is Good. I don't really get the name either... But through my extensive research (read: extensive reading of blogs in order to procrastinate), I believe it might be something to do with The Office... Regardless. He's funny. You'll laugh. It's good. So go. (:

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Sunday, January 18, 2009

Typical toivoa moment

So today I decided to fry some eggs.
There were a few sitting there in the egg shelf of the fridge door, so I grabbed two as the oil was heating in the pan. All seemed normal...

The problems began when I attempted to crack the first egg. It was rather hard and when it actually did crack I wasn't paying much attention. I held it above the pan, trying to break it apart, thinking that what I was meeting resistance with was that filmy white layer you get just within an eggshell. Not looking, I was thinking, this is soo thick... :s Once I finally came up with the brilliant idea to look at what I was doing, I realised what I was actually holding was an already boiled egg, obviously done by my mother.... Feeling like a bit of a douche, I had another look in the fridge and took another 2 eggs from the carton I found there.
Now, this egg was also quite hard as I hit it to crack it. I got a little bit impatient and tried cracking it simply with the force of my fingers, whereupon it promptly broke and the egg splattered all over me...
I was left standing there, bewildered, with the broken pieces of eggshell in my hands and egg yolk slowly dripping down my top...

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Saturday, January 17, 2009

This is to make up for my lack of pimples, isn't it?

I barely ever get pimples. This is someone's idea of revenge... >.<
Everyone, I am sunburnt! Practically everywhere. Okay, not quite everywhere. Just, oh you know, my face, my shoulders, my back (with a tan line from my bikini), the backs of my legs, my cleavage (!); and the front of my legs are severely tanned. Gotta love the beach.

Haha fourth sunburn of my life, I have nothing to complain about. Actually, I do, and you, my dear readers, can learn all about it shortly. I am online on my dad's phone, with this open as a webpage, I don't think he'd be too happy if I set up mobile blogger on his phone. Not that he'd be pleased I'm using it to access the internet, but it's more that this way he won't know...

He'd be even less thrilled to discover that I'm only on his phone to pass time while waiting for both he and my mother to go to bed so i can get on the computer, which, may I add, they think they have prevented me from accessing when I should be in bed. Removing the internet cable? Pssh. It takes more than that to thwart me!

Haha oh I'm ever so devious... Or not.
Anyhow, this is an irritating way to blog, my dad has a Nokia E71 if you're interested, qwerty keyboard blah. If you want a phone with a full keyboard, I recommend a Blackberry. Not this. As for why I don't use my own phone, my current piece of crap just barely has a camera... I have a particular talent for destroying phones... Perhaps one day I shall blog about it...

And yes, my parents still try to get me to be in bed by 10.30, on a Saturday night. In the holidays. Sigh. However, please notice - "try". Perhaps "hope in vain" would suit better...
Anyhow, catcha on the flip side, bloggees! (My impromptu fond name for all of you, as you may be able to tell, I'm rather cheerful, despite the current red shade of my skin. Grr)

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Sunday, January 11, 2009

Oooooodles of Noodles

I love noodles. Really. Chinese food is great. Indian-Chinese is also good. Seriously, in the four year gaps between our visits to India, I draw up from my memory the taste of food from a nearby Chinese restaurant to my nana's home in Pune, India, time and time again. It sustains me as I pass by the days, eating mediocre food. Haha well, not exactly.

And, please, explain to me this fascination with Indian food people seem to have. It's good, but not that good. It delights me to find non-Indians /people from similar countries who dislike or at least don't love Indian food. That's one more person to shove in the face of my parents as evidence that not all others love Indian food and I am not just strange and alone in my non-loving view of it. Or something.

Then, I love 2 minute noodles, noodle cups, and stir fry, etc. Any noodles are good. (:

However, there is a problem when it comes to my eating of noodles...


I am rather uncoordinated. If I was easily embarrassed, I am of no doubt that my face would permanently be a bright red. Although, I'm not too sure if my face actually does turn red when I am embarrassed, since my skin is dark(ish), but... metaphorically speaking...

Anyhow, much laughter is had at my expense, on my side as well. Our sloped driveway has me tripping almost every time I get out of the car, I fall over while simply walking, stumble on nothing, and drop things a lot. As for my phones, they're lucky to survive as long as they do. I believe my mobile comes into abrupt contact with the ground at least twice everyday, no matter how much care I attempt to take. I'm forgetful and easily confused; not to mention incredibly disorganised.

It's not even that I'm disorganised as such. Really. ;P I love organisation. I love matching sets of items.
The problem, you see, is that I am too organised. If something is messy, I want it organised. But I have a specific pattern that things must be in. I will not half organise. I want matching kitchenware, complementary furniture in a room... Matching holders on a desk, rooms with a particular style to them. It drives me absolutely crazy how, in our house, some of the furniture in a room would be appropriate for a country style home, others fitting for a simplistic, modernised set up, yet others casual and comfy in earthy shades; or bright colours; with others formal... the list is endless. I see all the possibilities to theme different rooms, or the same room in different themes. I considered interior designing as a possible future career but I passionately want to have a job where I can help people in important areas, make a difference in people's lives, not their homes.

Okay, our home doesn't clash that terribly, and thank god. I am still irked by the lack of a theme. (And yet, I hate themed parties. Dress up parties, that is. If I had loads of money to go out and create fantastic costumes, they would be fine. As it is, working with my $35 of pocket money per month and added grade money each term [remind me to do really well at school this year!], it is not something that brings great joy to my heart. [I really really want a Star Wars themed party some day, just by the way. I would be Queen Amidala LOL.])

How am I too organised? Well, if I can't organise something perfectly, I refuse to organise it at all. When I clean my room, I haul out everything out from the depths of my wardrobe, dresser, and under my bed. This, firstly, makes my room messier than it is, and is more time consuming. My mum cannot understand it. She says I should do things one at a time, i.e. clean the outer messiness and at another time do all the concealed stuff. But I want to do it all in one shot. And of course, I must take advantage of my mood. When I start doing something, if I leave it unfinished, I am likely to leave it so for a long time.

When the urge to cook attacks, I will make three or more things in one hit. As for cleaning, when that urge comes, I clean everything I can possibly think of. Another point of complaint for my mum. She wants me to cook more, after all, I am sixteen, blah blah. When I do cook, she usually complains that my delectable (or not so) creation is unhealthy... Cleaning? "Good. Now if only you'd do it more often. (Also applies to the cooking scenario)" The woman is impossible to please, I swear.

I like my stationary to be matching and look good. What I write in and what I write with are very important to me. I like the expensive stuff. It's not on purpose, it happens with clothing too. I see it, I like it, I want it, I check the price tag and tend to be somewhat incredulous. I will not spend recklessly, always. Even if I really love something I find, if I find the price ridiculous, I will put it back (reluctantly) on the shelf and move on. Mostly. (Shoes are my biggest weakness. It seems it's a female thing. I fall in love with heels even faster and perhaps more often than I fall literally. Haha, I'm hilarious. >.< I think I've been around Jimit for too long.)

The point is, if something cannot be organised as well as I would like, I deign to organise it at all. Probably not the best way to go about life...

So. Uncoordinated. That's me. Ask my friends to recall a funny moment involving me, and it will either be an incredibly "blonde moment", or a time in which I fell down or off something. Without even trying, at least 5 events come to mind. I shan't go into those now... I was meaning to discuss noodles.

So, the other night, I was eating noodles from a noodle cup. When eating noodles, there are a few minor issues resulting from my lack of coordination which I urgently need to address. Firstly, I am incapable of twirling noodles onto a fork. How is it done??? I try, but as I turn the fork over to add more to the bundle of noodle, the previously twirled noodle untwirls off the fork... Then there is how noodles seem to, while being put on the fork, drag others along with them, so twirling can never be finished, even if successfully done. I suppose I could just cut it, but I'm too fearful that any twirling half accomplished will be completely undone by trying to cut the noodles. So I end up with noodles ends dangling from each side of my fork.

That is not all, folks. The worst is yet to come.

Due to my twirling incapability, I usually just shovel noodles with my fork. Again, this drags other noodles from the bowl or plate with it, and the problem of dangling noodle ends makes an appearance once more. Why do I never actually try to cut it..? Definitely need to consider my options more.

Now, most noodles are accompanied by something liquid - sauce, curry, or the flavoured water in 2 minute noodles. The problem then, is this: when I am eating my noodles of the fork, the dangling ends must enter my mouth eventually. Even if I try to use the fork to bring these up to my lips, they flick. If I don't use a fork here, they flick. They do that. Even if they don't hit my chin and leave my face covered in gook (not that I don't love the "baby-who-has-just-eaten look", however it's not really my thing), liquid tends to fly, onto my shirt, onto the table, etc. I am a) confused, b) grossed out, and c) embarrassed by this.
It's not that I don't understand how it happens, I understand, all too well. But why, why can't I eat like a normal person???

Don't even get me started on what ensues when I eat a yiros. Particularly, that time I ate a yiros when my collarbone was fractured and I couldn't really use my right arm...

Postscript - I said "folks" in this post. I fucking said "folks"...

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Thursday, December 18, 2008

bahahahaha "Twilight" the movie

Oh God it's too funny lol
I've seen the movie and hated it, the books ehhh
All credit goes to the site where it was featured - Cracked.com, Elizabeth from Letters of Love who posted the link to this on Facebook, and of course the site it's originally from - The Editing Room...
ahahaha too funny. And so true.
This isn't the original review about it that I wanted to post, but I'm dying of laughter here XD
Even if you like / love the books and/or movie, read this. ;P

[edit:] okay i check out The Editing Room some more, link ^^^, it's actually hilarious, they do the same thing for other movies, highly entertaining ;P



"On Saturdays, we ask some of our favorite sites on the web to fill in for us. You get to learn about an awesome site you may not have heard of, and we get to watch cartoons in our boxers. Today Rod Hilton, creator of The-Editing-Room.com brings you an abridged version of the screenplay for Twilight, the movie based on Stephanie Meyer's novel.


FADE IN:

EXT. WASHINGTON

KRISTEN STEWART goes to FORKS, WASHINGTON.

KRISTEN STEWART (V.O.)

Once upon a time, there lived an enchanting girl named Stephanie Meyer, er I mean Kristen Stewart. She was so awesome that her awesomeness couldn't be contained in Arizona, so she moved to Washington to stay with her father, who was totally lame and not cool.

BILLY BURKE

Hey honey. I'm super lame. I got you a car, but it's totally uncool because I'm totally uncool.

KRISTEN STEWART

Thanks Dad, or whatever. Time for my first day at a new school. Since every coming-of-age story requires the main character be a social outcast, I suppose I'll have to endure being the unpopular new girl until I do something that proves my worth.

KRISTEN goes to school and is INSTANTLY POPULAR AND BELOVED.

ANNA KENDRICK

Oh my God I love your hair you're so pretty will you be my new best friend?

GREGORY TYREE BOYCE

Can I take you out sometime since you're so awesome?

MICHAEL WELCH

No way you asshole, I saw her first!

KRISTEN STEWART

I'd rather watch "The Messengers" than date either of you. Why don't you go ask Anna instead?

ANNA KENDRICK

Ohmigod I'm getting Kristen's rejects, that's so awesome!

KRISTEN STEWART

Wow. I guess this is what it looks like when the unpopular fat girl's pathetic daydreams get written down and published into a bestselling book. Aren't well-written characters supposed to have flaws?


ANNA KENDRICK

Flaws? Oh, well, um, I suppose you could argue that you're a little TOO perfect and amazing. But I don't think so. Let's make out.

Suddenly, ROBERT PATTINSON enters. The paleness of him and his family members reach blinding levels while the squeals in the movie theater reach deafening levels.

KRISTEN STEWART

Who's the albino Wolverine?

ANNA KENDRICK

Oh, him? That's Robert. He's universally acknowledged as the hottest boy in school but he doesn't date anyone because no girl is good enough for him.

KRISTEN STEWART

No girl is good enough for him? Man, the excuses closested homosexuals come up with these days...

KRISTEN sits next to ROBERT, who nearly vomits in his mouth and leaves school for a week. Eventually, he returns.

KRISTEN STEWART

Hey, where did you go? Because you are exceedingly mean to me, I find myself attracted to you.

ROBERT PATTINSON

Sounds like textbook daddy issues, you fat cow.

KRISTEN STEWART

(swoon)

ROBERT PATTINSON

You have a bright career as a stripper ahead of you.


ROBERT and KRISTEN continue not quite interacting with each other and having no chemistry what-so-ever.

KRISTEN STEWART

Hey, your eyes are changing color from gorgeous to ultragorgeous. What's going on?

ROBERT PATTINSON

Alright, you got me. I was acting like a jerk because I secretly totally love you.

KRISTEN STEWART

Of course! This also explains why the captain of the football team always acted like he hated Stephanie Meyer!

ROBERT PATTINSON

There's more. I want to eat you.

KRISTEN STEWART

Holy shit, really? I need to go home and do some waxing first, but...

ROBERT PATTINSON

No, I mean literally eat you. I'm a vampire.

KRISTEN STEWART

Hmm. The only way I will believe you is if you carry me up a mountain using special effects from the 70s.


He DOES.

KRISTEN STEWART

You really are a vampire! Does that mean that garlic, stakes, and sunlight kill you?

ROBERT PATTINSON

Don't be stupid. All of that lore is far too interesting for this movie. Being a vampire just means I get superpowers. It's like being Spider-Man, but sexier. Also, I sparkle in the sunlight.

KRISTEN STEWART

So that's why why your family moved here, because it's always overcast!

ROBERT PATTINSON

That's right everyone, this whole movie is a two-hour-long setup for a joke about the Pacific Northwest.

KRISTEN STEWART

So if you're immortal, how old are you anyway?

ROBERT PATTINSON

Over a hundred, but to be fair I've spent most of that time working on my hair.

The two of them GAZE into each other's eyes with UNCOMFORTABLY HUGE CLOSEUPS for 80% of the rest of the movie.


INT. KRISTEN'S BEDROOM

KRISTEN wakes up to find ROBERT watching her sleep.

KRISTEN STEWART

Holy fucking shit! If you weren't so hot I'd have you arrested! How long have you been doing this?

ROBERT PATTINSON

2 months.

KRISTEN STEWART

But I've only lived here one month according to the script.

ROBERT PATTINSN

Yeah, the script was written in six weeks. Don't get hung up on shit like that.

KRISTEN STEWART

Oh. Well, as long as you're here I guess we could have sex.

ROBERT PATTINSON

No, I can't have sex with you! I'd be unable to control myself! I'd bite you and turn you into a vampire! Also I ejaculate boiling venom, so I'd need to wear like fifty condoms.

KRISTEN STEWART

Wait, we can't have sex at all, and you can't suck my blood? How can you make a vampire movie without anyone sucking blood?

ROBERT PATTINSON

It's alright, I think this movie already has more than enough sucking.

INT. BILLY BURKE'S HOUSE

BILLY BURKE is cleaning his gun and drinking a beer while listening to country music.

KRISTEN STEWART

Dad, my boyfriend is coming over to pick me up. Try not to get dork all over him.

BILLY BURKE

Okay, let me meet him after the movie makes the film industry's ten billionth joke about protective fathers disliking boyfriends.


KRISTEN STEWART

Alright. Oh, and also: He's a 100-year-old vampire, don't say anything racist about vampires, okay?

ROBERT PATTINSON

Hello, sir. It's a pleasure to meet you, Kristen has said absolutely nothing about you because you're so lame.

BILLY BURKE

So I hear you're a 100-years-old. And interested in my 17-year-old daughter. So, mathematically that's like, what, a 40-year-old dating a 6-year-old?

ROBERT PATTINSON

Ummmmmmmm...

BILLY BURKE

Yeah, so my friend Chris Hansen would like you to have a seat right over here.

KRISTEN STEWART

Dad, you're embarrassing me almost as much as my acting! I'm just going over to his house to have dinner with his family, I'll be back before 11. Unless the ravenous vampires murder me, of course.

BILLY BURKE

Alright, just bring this pepper spray with you. It's literally the very least I can do to offer it to my teenage daughter.

KRISTEN STEWART

Daaaaad! Stop being such a loser, I don't need this!

BILLY BURKE

Really? Weren't you almost raped by four guys earlier in the movie?

KRISTEN STEWART

Yeah but I have a BOYFRIEND now, which means I no longer have to be independent or physically capable of doing anything on my own. GOD!

ROBERT and KRISTEN go to visit ROBERT'S FAMILY MANSION in the middle of the woods, because of course the FANTASY MALE should be rich, too.

INT. GLASS MANSION

KRISTEN meets ROBERT'S VAMPIRE FAMILY.

KRISTEN STEWART

Jesus, this place is paler than an Anne Rice book signing event. At least it doesn't smell as bad.

PETER FACINELLI

Welcome to our ridiculously expensive home. I'm the father figure of this family because I'm the one who turned them all into vampires. There's something disturbing about the idea that I've only turned teenagers into vampires, but let's ignore that.

KRISTEN STEWART

Wow, you guys are so close. What keeps this family together so well?

PETER FACINELLI

Funny you should ask. Let me tell you about Count Joseph Von Smith. One day a vampire named Moronula appeared to him and told him to find these golden stakes buried in a coffin...

NIKKI REED

Knock it off, dad. So, Kristen, there must be something really special about you for Robert to take such a liking to you and risk the lives of his entire family. Tell us about yourself.

KRISTEN STEWART

Me? Oh, no. I'm just a hollow placeholder for all of the teenage girls in the audience to project their personalities onto. I have none of my own whatsoever.

NIKKI REED

Oh. Well what do you like to do for fun?

KRISTEN STEWART

Mostly smoke pot on my porch in front of the paparazzi. What about you guys?

PETER FACINELLI

Vampire baseball.

KRISTEN STEWART

Ha ha, no seriously.

PETER FACINELLI

Really. Vampire baseball. We even have uniforms. Want to come watch us play?

KRISTEN STEWART

Actually, as it happens, the very last thing on Earth I or any other sane person would want to watch is vampire baseball, but go ahead.


They play vampire baseball, which looks exactly as stupid as it sounds to all of the males in the audience. The game attracts the attention of some EVIL VAMPIRES, who actually do the type of shit vampires are supposed to, like fucking kill boring humans. One of them, CAM GIGANDET, notices KRISTEN.

CAM GIGANDET

Oh man, that looks great, are you gonna finish that?

ROBERT PATTINSON

Stay away from her or my family will have to kill you. Specifically, we'll have to hiss at you like fifth graders pretending to be Dracula, and then kill you.

CAM GIGANDET

Murder, eh? That's one hell of a family activity. My family usually just plays Scrabble.

PETER FACINELLI

The family that slays together, stays together.

CAM tries to eat KRISTEN, a poorly directed action sequence ensues, and eventually he is defeated.

PETER FACINELLI

Kristen's been bitten! She'll be turned into a vampire within minutes unless you suck the venom out! I can't do it for some reason or another.

ROBERT PATTINSON

Since the whole novel this is based on is just Mormon propaganda for abstinence and bloodsucking is a metaphor for sex, what exactly is this advocating?

PETER FACINELLI

Look, all I know is that even though it's going to be REALLY HARD, you're just going to have to PULL OUT of her before CLIMAX. The climax of the movie, I mean.

He DOES. It's very DISSATISFYING.

INT. HOSPITAL

KRISTEN wakes up in the hospital, and ROBERT wakes up after her.

KRISTEN STEWART

I thought vampires never slept.

ROBERT PATTINSON

Script. Six weeks. Remember?

KRISTEN STEWART

Right. Well, thanks for saving my life after endangering it by inviting me into your dangerous world. Let's go to the prom together.

ROBERT PATTINSON

Actually, I think it would be better if we broke up. To keep you safe.

KRISTEN STEWART

From vampires?

ROBERT PATTINSON

No, from being typecast forever after this series is done. I'm screwed, but it's not too late for you.

KRISTEN STEWART

No. No, you can't ever leave me. Never. No matter what. We must be together forever and ever and ever.

ROBERT PATTINSON

Holy shit, you're a clingy psychotic bitch. Maybe we have a realistic high school relationship after all.

They stay together and go to the PROM.

KRISTEN STEWART

I want you to make me a vampire so that I can be with you, even if it means sacrificing my own life as a mortal.


ROBERT PATTINSON

So, the next generation of young women are currently flocking to see a female lead starring in a movie by a female director based on a bestselling book by a female author, and in this movie the main character wants to become completely submissive and self-sacrificing for a male.

KRISTEN STEWART

I love you. Put a baby in me.

ROBERT PATTINSON

At least the other three books can't possibly be more misogynistic and depressing.

They ARE.

END"

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Pillow Update

"New" pillow, new to me but already a member of our household, is great! (:
Smiles all around (:

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Wednesday, December 17, 2008

My Hunt for the Elusive Perfect Pillow

So my new "ergonomically designed pillow for side and back sleepers" from Ikea that "people just keep coming back for" [although why they would come back for more if they already have one is slightly beyond me, I suppose for the other family members but still...] has not won my obviously necessary approval... ^_^ I specifically told the saleswoman I wanted a pillow that was firm; but not hard, and definitely not too soft. Admittedly, this pillow was in between those by the standards of their other pillows. But I was suspicious from the moment I saw such a wide variety of pillows; no one needs that many pillow options unless have they have severe neck or back problems...



For the rest of the populace who just wants a pillow, what possible purpose could such a vast array of choices serve? Nothing but to befuddle the hapless customer so much that they simply take whichever pillow is put forward to be the best for them rather than try to make such a confusing decision all on their own.

How else would the ordinary middle class [free of back / neck issues] consumer decide to fork out up to $70 for a pillow that is essential a sort of bean shaped piece of foam and then yet another $30 for the special pillow cover to put the first item into so that that buyer's head may be more cushioned and appear to be lying on a pillow of normal shape during this mainly unconscious part of their life, rather than Pillow le Freak? Sure, it's shaped slightly strangely, but if you're prepared to pay seventy bucks for one pillow, can't you handle a little strange? Sigh. It's all about the aesthetics these days.

This pillow cover in question is not your average pillow cover which for all normal purposes would preserve hygiene in the ability to wash that rather than the entire pillow, and make it look nice in a customised way. Now, this particular pillow is firstly longer than most pillows, so that's a no to nice fun pillow covers. And because of its odd shape, said pillow requires the pillow cover which you insert the pillow into and it is cushiony and soft, and I'm sure its very nice. Necessary? With the global financial crisis, sleep may be the only time for contentment, so why not sacrifice some hard earned money for a little peace of mind? [NB. the global financial crisis doesn't really affect me directly since I don't have a job and my parents are the ones spending on me, but I'm not all that selfish.]

But at a hundred bucks a pop, I think I'll pass.

Now, my second hint that something was a little off were the names of different designs of pillows. It is my opinion that names, at least of objects, should indicate a little about their owners. Maybe these names mean something entirely related to pillow talk in Swedish, but as an English speaking citizen of Australia, I had no clue whatsoever what such ominous sounding names could mean. None sounded even remotely appealing to me. Here for example are a few I grabbed of Ikea's website [ikea.com.au if you're interested {Oh and the poor Northern Territory, they don't got no Ikea >.<}]: - GOSA HASSEL, GOSA KÄRNA, GOSA KLÄTT, GOSA RAPS. Oh and I'm sorry, it's not a pillow cover, its an outer pillow core ^_^. Why are the names in CAPITALS? They're intimidating enough already... What do such names conjure up in your mind?

Then, from the minute my parents decided to ask for assistance and the salesperson came out with the word "ergonomically" in relation to pillows, I knew this was a bad idea. However, against my better judgment, I kept my mouth shut; attempting to not be a pain and also trusting in Saleswoman's assumed knowledge. She works here, she uses words like "ergonomic", she must know pillows... She seems confident that this pillow is popular, although no figures were quoted [which could be bogus regardless], she's working with my specifications, maybe this is a good idea... Perhaps I should have recalled my friend who works at Baker's Delight, merely serving, complaining to me about how customers tended to ask her what type of bread goes best with *particular dish*; not really knowing, she tends to give what vague help she can while sounding authoritative. Of course, this was only months into her job, she seems to know better now, as I observed the other day while visiting her at work. Or perhaps she's just great at seeming knowledgeable about bread. Regardless, the same fundamental idea quite possibly applies to pillow salespeople.

Note to self: Follow your pillow instincts, and remember that the consumer market has essentially the same principles across the board, no matter the product...

Please take into consideration that I did not intend to buy a pillow from Ikea. I would have been satisfied with a new pillow from Kmart, Target, Big W, any department store is fine by me. However we were already at Ikea, shopping for furniture [and lunching. May I say, I don't understand the fuss about their food, I thought it quite average, although truth be told I only had a fruit flan since none of the main meals looked very appealing, and my family did say they were delicious. I'm a little fussy... But the fruit flan was nice. I like fruit flans, so it was nice that I thought it was nice, but it was your generic fruit flan. It wasn't rave worthy, no, certainly not. And for parents, yes, it's not just toddlers who are fussy with food; the stress of young children is nothing compared to that of teenagers, at least in my parents' eyes. I fully support them in that verdict, I'd be sick to death of me if I was my mother. Although I wasn't fussy at all as a child. Hmm...], and I happened to mention that I wanted a new pillow. Okay, I may have stressed that I needed a new pillow, and today; although I knew quite well it was not a need... in my defence, my neck had been rather sore for the last few weeks.

My problem with our current pillows? Well, you see, all the pillows available to me were either too thin or too thick, making for verrry uncomfortable attempts at sleep. I tried putting two "too thin" pillows together, but they were each thick enough that when together, were too thick, but by themselves, miserably flat. This was highly frustrating to me, and my sore neck morning after morning was not something I enjoyed. Thus the pillow hunt. Alas, had we but been at Marion [local shopping centre {or mall}] that day instead, at Harvey Norman, Freedom, or some other such furniture store in the vicinity, I might have ended up with a quick and easy choice to make, and a perfectly decent, non-ergonomic pillow.

Unfortunately, life doesn't consist of continual smooth sailing, and a pillow was bought for me from Ikea [Not the $70 one, but a 30 or 40 dollar pillow, which, although I am not a scrooge, particularly when it comes to spending my parents' money, seemed slightly ridiculous to me. Again, I should have said something, however it's nice when the parentals decide to buy me something that I think is at unacceptable price and do so quite happily and without complaint. I am guilty of... I forget what its called, but it is wrong, I know. And so, I hoped fervently that I would like said pillow]. Returnable as they are if within original plastic packaging and within 90 days, this story may also have had a happier ending, if not for my sister, missing the part of the conversation during the car ride home about how I should keep the pillow in its plastic as I trialled it [within a pillow case of course so I shouldn't suffocate; this being one of the pillows at a more regular size], and decided to assist me that evening by ripping open the plastic, as my mother and I watched in horror, unable to stop her before the deed was done. Here upon I was thinking something along the lines of "I must like this pillow, I must like this pillow" since it was now nonreturnable, costly, and I felt just a tad guilty because of the cost and non-necessity. In the mean time my mum freaked just a little and my sister had her "oops" moment. Really, it was all quite amusing.

With my positive and determined mindset towards the pillow, not to mention how it was ergonomically designed, how could I not like it? Pretty simple. It was still uncomfortable, no matter how I tried to convince myself I just needed to get used to it. After three nights, I couldn't take it anymore. However, salvation and redemption from any forthcoming guilt was still a slim possibility. See, my dad hasn't been too impressed with whichever pillow he's been using either, and he does have back problems.

{ASIDE: So does my mum actually, and hers + her neck problems are quite severe, which is why it's absolutely fantastic she continues to work as a carer at a nursing home. Which, if you don't know, involves lifting the residents, thus equalling very bad for her neck + back. But she enjoys working, she hadn't worked since my parents moved to Australia 18 years ago. She was very shy and after two years here, she had me, and then my sister, and stayed home to take care of us. She only began working perhaps a year and a half ago now, and only as a casual and relief, but still. I won't say it doesn't help the family although my dad's income is adequate, but I still worry about it. Please note that while I hardly get along with my mum at all, I do still appreciate everything she's done and continues to do for both I and my sister. She always puts us before herself, and while I disagree with some of her rules and such, she always has our best interests at heart, which I know even when I am arguing with her. And I do worry about her and want her to be happy and healthy and safe.}

So, my dad. My mum suggested, in store, that if I didn't like the pillow, Dad could try it also before returning it. Not that the return option is available anymore, but I am now hoping that he will find this troublesome pillow perfect. And, as I was taking it to him, planning to simply resign myself to one of the old pillows I was using before, he offered me a spare from my parents walk-in robe. I had seen this pillow before, but it is firm foam, hardish, and doesn't slope downwards around the edges. It's kinda high all around the outside so I've always been a little ehh about it. But, desperate for any kind of relief for my neck, I decided to try it. I haven't slept on it as such, but I did lie on it for a good half hour prior to returning here to blog, and it was surprisingly comfortable. I think I could definitely get used to it ^_^

(:

Haha so after the wild goose chase for my elusive perfect pillow, it may have been here under my nose [figuratively; the more accurate position would be on the other side of this wall in front of me and a bit to the left...] all along. While it wasn't the longest search in history, it has been a trying period in life for me. XD

And if you needed an example as to just how much I can write about completely pointless matters, well I'd say here's a good one. (:

I wish you all a good [due to your own perfect pillow ;)] night.

xx

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Friday, November 28, 2008

A thank you to my mind

For seizing onto topic and bringing me distraction

WARNING - MAJOR BITCH ABOUT IRVING LOLOLOL

what a fucking whore

wait no she isn't a whore she's far too ugly to ever possibly one

The most desperate man would rather fuck his grandmother than her, and pay irving to stay away from him for the rest of his life, if only he didn't drop dead in the face of her monstrous appearance first.

I'm so angry, she sent a letter home saying I've missed a number of English lessons, what the fuck is she talking about, I turned up to the majority of those lessons, waste of fucking time as it was >.<


My mum is angry at me again, but dear god seriously what the fuck you prune faced bitch??? [irving, not my mum, thanks]

She's so cantankerous and so narrow minded and almost all of our English tasks are designed by her with such a bias towards what she likes, assignments on her favourite movies, assignments on poems she thinks are worth reading, stating her opinions with no sensitivity as to what may be offensive to some, unwilling to listen to others, set in her ways and so stubborn and refuses to admit another being right over her >.<
sfoijdsklfjd :@


Admittedly I'm only being so angry and so vicious in order to save myself here, from my mind, but anyhow. This is in general, not the overarching rule, and ashfkldsjflds

Anyway, gotta go do my hair, fun stuff.

Ze Bay and seeing Australia tonight (yn), then Kathleen sleeping over. Which reminds me, I have to call her.

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Monday, November 24, 2008

Sea red chicken

ACTUAL LOL
major blonde moment
What's sea red chicken? What the hell is sea red chicken???
it's seared chicken dumbass >.<
ahahahaa
that's one thing i took away from my friday
yay for Macca's lol
and of course who can forget friday night, seeing Catherine again after a week, driving to Shazzling's and going to Macca's AGAIN aha
i handed out 18 resumes over Thursday and Friday and over the last two weeks have applied for over 22 jobs online, nothing as yet >.<
I really want a job
We got to do something nice, someone left a folder at the table we sat at at the food court, i took a look and it looked like something to do with esprit, like receipts and monthly sales records etc, so since shazz and i were going to coles while aimee was ordering food after all of us had finished eating, since her salad sucked lol; anyway we decided to drop it off at esprit, while i handed out more resumes on the way of course. The lady at the counter was so nice, she was like thank you so much, it's my managers, etc. it was nice lol.
and hopefully i get a job somewhere. haha i should have handed it in and then applied. but nah... plus i really don't want to work there LOL.
positives for friday already mentioned hah. saturday, ehh i don't remember.
sunday, talked to michelle and kathleen last night, it was good, today is only one day to NCIS lol, I'm in a good mood, German exam done with, I'm happy with myself... ^_^

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Sunday, November 16, 2008

it's got long, creepy legs

it's on the screen.
it's disgusting.
/kills self

[see previous blog]

i swear to god it is diseased

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ashfdkljdkjflkdsjgfds ++ CUTE

I am actually so freaked out. I hate flies, am scared of spiders and am fine with most bugs except when I just feel them and think they're spiders on me. I'm terrified of blow flies. But most of all. I hate so much the flies that crawl more than they fly. They have the creepiest legs. And they just hang around. There is one around the keyboard right now and it's terrifying me so much. I am freaking out so badly. I keep flapping my arms, if you saw me you'd die laughing but right now, I'm about to cry. They scare me so much :(

In my mind they are obviously infected with disease  because they look like it and are likely to bite me coz they're insane, they're not normal flies, I mean why would they crawl... And infect me with like, malaria. Or just, I dunno. /agitated face + mannerisms Toivoa does when scared like this.

and if it comes on my face, I'm trying not to scream coz Deborah's in bed and stuff

BUT OH MY GOD I would freak out silently so bad.

Like when I'm so scared but bite my hand to keep myself screaming because I can't do anything or something, I dunno

aghhhhhhhhhhh

GET IT AWAY FROM ME

:( :( :(



okay, addition, half an hour later...
CUTE LYRICS
i love it. it's like, God has designed you, uniquely. You are special. it's soooo cute (:

"I can see the tears filling your eyes
And I know where theyre coming from
Theyre coming from a heart thats broken in two
By what you dont see
The person in the mirror
Doesnt look like the magazine
Oh but when I look at you its clear to me that

I can see the fingerprints of god
When I look at you
I can see the fingerprints of god
And I know its true
Youre a masterpiece
That all creation quietly applauds
And youre covered with the fingerprints of god

Never has there been and never again
Will there be another you
Fashioned by gods hand
And perfectly planned
To be just who you are
And what hes been creating
Since the first beat of your heart
Is a living breathing priceless work of art and

Just look at you
Youre a wonder in the making
Oh and gods not through no
In fact he's just getting started!"

10.44 PM AGHHHHHHHHHH IT'S BACK [THE FLY]
BUT THIS TIME IT'S FLYING
AND IT'S STILL TERRIFYING
/SHUDDERS, TWITCHES FOR NEXT 20 MINUTES
:(

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