Oh hai! Gone are the days where I could indicate ‘student’ as my occupation. I am now among the ranks of ‘unemployed’. For now, at least.
Yes, I’ve graduated today. Although I don’t quite see why people deem it to be such a big deal – hence, my expression.
To me, Commencement 2009 is nothing more than listening to long boring speeches, ducking continuous attempts by the higher beings to brainwash you, and finally – walking onstage and plastering a fake smile.
The only good side of it was seeing all my coursemates together again. (But it’s the last time. :()
The most enjoyable part of the trip is … having room mates.
Contrary to the usual quietness of my own room at home, sharing a room with D and G meant that the room was filled with a myriad of various noises comprising loud music, the occasional exclamation and squealing and of course – lots of conversation. (Which I really missed ever since I got home.)
Unfortunately, there is one minor downside of having both genders living in the same room.
If you guys have been following my Twitter updates while I was away in Australia, you may have remembered one particular post:
The only guy’s complaining about us girls hanging washed undies around the room. We girls call it ‘The United Nations’. (7:13 PM May 22nd from txt.)
Well, if you hadn’t guessed correctly, it is …
… hanging washed underwear out to dry.
The following comic strip (hastily drawn in the dead of the night at 2.00 A.M. – albeit one of my best works yet) sums up all our troubles.
Basically, we were highly restricted in where we could hang our … err … dirty laundry, despite the vastness of the house. However, overlooking all the trouble we had to go through just to dry our … err … undergarments, the whole situation was actually pretty hilarious.
P/S: Pardon the sudden influx of toilet humour in my recent entries! Heh.
Oh hello, this is part one of the series of entries pertaining to the 2-week long vacation to Perth. Today’s entry will be purely text, but photos and illustrations will soon follow. So, stay tuned.
When it comes to the art of psyching people, no one can do it better than the three of us – G, D and yours’ truly.
Although I daresay that I am still the champion. Why? Read on.
Of course, I am not going to start the entry by bragging about how excellent I am in psyching people. Since the trip involved three individuals – it’s best if I started off talking about us collectively, and how our attempts at psyching people ended up saving us from the multiple cock-ups we faced during the trip.
The biggest issue that cropped up while in Perth? Not being able to drive.
Our original plan was to rent a car – with D and G rotating shifts as the drivers with yours’ truly as the navigator. (Because I am excellent at reading maps, with a keen sense of direction … or so I claim, affirmed by D. While I can’t drive to save my life.)
Readers might remember that we weren’t staying alone – but under the wing of a host family, which comprised G’s relatives. (Although one particular woman, whom we affectionately referred to as ‘Auntie’, called most of the shots there.)
Somehow, ‘Auntie’ discovered our plans to drive and phoned G’s mother, who in turn phoned G to deliver an earful. To cut a long story short, we weren’t allowed to drive – which I found absolutely absurd because nothing is nearby in Australia and we really needed a car to get around. (The rail/bus network linking Perth to the suburbs was just absolutely crap.)
The following day, we had to again – contend with another earful. This time, from ‘Auntie’ who delivered a loooong lecture of “Why it is so dangerous to drive in Australia” during the drive from our place all the way to Perth City (which lasted a grand total of 30 minutes – what a feat!) while we sat in stony silence.
It was during this time where the psyching took place.
‘Auntie’ must have realized our annoyance at the recent happenings. (It was actually pretty darn obvious – considering how the three of us basically refused to talk to her throughout the entire car ride, while I could practically see the negative vibes emanating from D who was in the front seat.) As a result, she later offered to drive us everywhere, knowing how we were stuck in a rut considering the less than developed transport network.
Of course, we eagerly accepted the offer – and promised ourselves that we’d give her a bigger ang bao (red packet) to thank her at the end of the trip.
Attempt at psyching … successful!
For my dear readers who’d like to know what the number one danger of Australian roads is, it’s … kangaroos. Unlike us intelligent human beings, kangaroos do not know how to look left and right before crossing the bloody roads. As such, more than 100 kangaroos get struck by cars across Australia every single day, especially before sunrise and after sunset.
Additionally, you can’t swerve to avoid the kangaroos – because the roads are elevated from the rest of the surroundings. As such, it is either to knock down the kangaroo (which will usually at most, leave some damages to your car but leave you unharmed) or swerve (which will usually lead to your car overturning and your potential death while the silly, reckless kangaroo gets away scot-free). Your call.
I shall now reserve the last bit of this entry to describe why I am still the champion of psyching.
This took place in a souvenir shop. (Warning: If you’re in the midst of the meal, or if you’re about to take a meal, or if you’ve just finished a heavy meal – I’d suggest not to continue.)
Me: I’m going to fart.
(G immediately backs away.)
G: Um, okay.
A few seconds later …
G: Okay, Bren. I think I just smelled your fart.
I found it pretty funny because in reality, I hadn’t released any gas bomb. I was as usual, trying to mess around with people’s minds. (Hehehe. Sorry, G!)
First place still goes to me! *Puts on crown.*