Stupid thoughtless people generalize me simply because I am 'da ayshunn'. Here's a few retarded comments that I often make a 'WTF' face to.
'Omg you're so Asian'
OH REALLY? I NEVER NOTICED.
You're a freaking genius with great observational skills..
'You're good at math because you're Asian' // 'You're Asian therefore you're smart'
Why would you assume that? I could be the dumbest skank-faced Asian ho on the planet. Why would you think I'm smart simply because my eyes are squinty? Ok ok, so I'm decent at math but still, stupid generalization. I'm not good at it because I'm Asian, I'm good at it because my dad pushes me to learn it.
'Stop squinting' // 'Why are you eyes so small?'
I was born like that, you retard. I cant help it that my face is somewhat deformed. Why are you eyes so far back in your head?! Why is your nose invading my personal space?! Chyeah, see? I can be racist too.
'Can. You. Speak. English. ?'
Yes. I. Can. But. You. Obviously. Have. A. Speech. Difficulty. If. You. Speak. Like. This.
'Go back to your own country, you illegal immigrant'
Gladly, does this mean you'll pay for my plane ticket? Firstly, I know Australia isn't 'my country' and I never claimed that. I'm not Australian. I know that, I'm not trying in anyway to be Aussie so, sorry if I offend you. Secondly, we're skilled migrants meaning Australia NEEDED us to migrate here because my parents have skills that are useful. What the hell do yours do to contribute?
'AZN PRIDE!!!!!!!!'
If you say this line, you are either a) an Asian-wannabe who is trying to impress a group of Asians or b) a retarded Asian who has recently discovered things such as bubble tea. I'm not prideful because I'm Asian, what does my culture have anything to do with my pride? Asians are not necessarily better than other cultures so WHAT THE F is with teenyboppers screaming 'AZN PRIDE!'?
'I wish I was Asian'
Why? You're probably a recently admitted Japanophile who think that all of Asia is just like Japan. News flash, most of Asia are poor 3rd world countries where people suffer and die from hunger. You have no idea what those people have been through so don't assume that being Asian is so freaking awesome simply because you read a manga and saw that the girls wear really short skirts and the boys all look like girls. If you want to LOOK Asian, that's a different thing. BEING Asian is more than having squinty eyes and a flat nose.
To be continued.
15 November 2009
Cambodia
The long awaited holiday in shortly coming up. 16 is the number of days that I must endure until we leave this 40 degree heat and go to Cambodia where it is Winter. Then again, Cambodia's Winter is approximately 30 degrees. Better than 40 though, hah, suckers.
I'm looking forward to seeing my relatives though I'm cringing at the thought that they will pinch my cheeks and tell me how big (AKA, fat) I've become. Being Asian, it seems as though I can never be skinny enough. My frame is pretty small and I'm pretty tall for an Asian girl who spent most of her life in a 3rd world country. But it seems like my thighs will always consume a large portion of space and it must really irritate my relatives when I ear thirds of every meal. I'm not one of those people who say 'I don't know why I'm so fat. I diet and exercise. etc etc'. I will gladly admit to being fat and I know I'm fat so I definitely don't feel sorry for myself like my Biology Teacher.
I feel guilty that I'm looking forward to shopping more than I am to seeing my relative's disappointed faces when they ask me 'So, how many years until you become a doctor?' and I say 'I don't want to be a doctor'. Of course they will shun me for the rest of my life and probably introduce me as 'the-grand-daughter-who-does-not-want-to-be-a-doctor, please-marry-her, she'll-never-get-anywhere-in-life'.
Back to the shopping. Shops in Asia are generally very very cheap. DIRT CHEAP. With 50 bucks I could probably buy a whole new wardrobe accompanied by shoes, accessories and cosmetic. Then again, I do speak Fobbishly and will probably get ripped off by my own people. :/
Started a count down. (:
I'm looking forward to seeing my relatives though I'm cringing at the thought that they will pinch my cheeks and tell me how big (AKA, fat) I've become. Being Asian, it seems as though I can never be skinny enough. My frame is pretty small and I'm pretty tall for an Asian girl who spent most of her life in a 3rd world country. But it seems like my thighs will always consume a large portion of space and it must really irritate my relatives when I ear thirds of every meal. I'm not one of those people who say 'I don't know why I'm so fat. I diet and exercise. etc etc'. I will gladly admit to being fat and I know I'm fat so I definitely don't feel sorry for myself like my Biology Teacher.
I feel guilty that I'm looking forward to shopping more than I am to seeing my relative's disappointed faces when they ask me 'So, how many years until you become a doctor?' and I say 'I don't want to be a doctor'. Of course they will shun me for the rest of my life and probably introduce me as 'the-grand-daughter-who-does-not-want-to-be-a-doctor, please-marry-her, she'll-never-get-anywhere-in-life'.
Back to the shopping. Shops in Asia are generally very very cheap. DIRT CHEAP. With 50 bucks I could probably buy a whole new wardrobe accompanied by shoes, accessories and cosmetic. Then again, I do speak Fobbishly and will probably get ripped off by my own people. :/
Started a count down. (:
13 November 2009
Exams.
Unbelievable, year 11 as I know is coming to an end yet I can still remember my nervousness when I was coming into year 8. Though I'm a senior now, the anxiousness has not disappeared. In fact, I'd say it has gotten worse over the past couple of years. As year 12 is staring me in the face, I feel as though I have been thrown naked into a shark infested pool where the only way I'll live is.. actually, there is no way I could live.
The daunting thought that one day I will have to be independent makes me sweat bullets. 400 more days until I graduate from high school and I'm still acting like a 12-year-old. My parents are the over-protective kind (chyeah, they're Asian, what do you think?) and even if it was only a paper cut, Mum was always there to put a band aid on me. What happens when I have to put the band aid on myself?
Obviously I have no trouble putting on a band aid, it's a metaphor.
I want to go back to being a child.. where I can spill food on the ground and pee my pants and my parents still love me.
Being an adult is an episode of my life that I don't want to see.
The daunting thought that one day I will have to be independent makes me sweat bullets. 400 more days until I graduate from high school and I'm still acting like a 12-year-old. My parents are the over-protective kind (chyeah, they're Asian, what do you think?) and even if it was only a paper cut, Mum was always there to put a band aid on me. What happens when I have to put the band aid on myself?
Obviously I have no trouble putting on a band aid, it's a metaphor.
I want to go back to being a child.. where I can spill food on the ground and pee my pants and my parents still love me.
Being an adult is an episode of my life that I don't want to see.
30 October 2009
Die!
By 10am today, I had wished death upon at least 5 people. Making a deal with God, I hoped that he would kill them off in some painful way. Wouldn't it be weird if they all died of supernatural causes and I was convicted as a criminal? That's actually a pretty scary thought.
Most of the people I wish death upon are actually drivers. If I could drive properly, I'd tailgate them and dent their car a little bit or maybe I'd wait until they innocently get out and then.. RUN THEM OVER. No, unfortunately I am yet to drive on the left hand side of the road.
People I've killed off in my mind:
Guy-who-parks-over-crossing-line.
At the traffic light when the man turns green, at least 100 OLSH girls cross the road to find that an idiot has parked his car over the entire line. Thus, we were forced to go ALL THE WAY AROUND his car and put ourselves in danger of the moving traffic a mere metre from us. I mentally decapitated him and turned him into dog food.
Girl-who-talks-on-the-phone-while-driving-really-fast.
Like, oh-em-gee, my hair is, like, so good today cuz, like, I just got it cut and like, *hair flick*. No body gives a shit. It cant be so important that you have to put other people at risk. Put your goddamn phone down and drive at a normal speed. In my head, the phone shaved her entire head off and then ate her alive.
Girl-who-applies-makeup-while-driving.
I gotta say, she's got some talent if she can turn herself from pimply man to beautiful woman all the while driving and putting others at risk. Wake up a little earlier, dear, the you'll have time to put that mask on and hide your flaws. The makeup was of course acid and thus, her entire face caved in within minutes of applied it. She later died from suicide because she was so ugly.
Guy-who-plays-really-loud-music-at-the-stop-light.
He has his window down and bobs his head (sometimes he sings along) to some really old music from 2000, e.g. Pink's Let's Get This Party Started. Not that there's actually anything wrong with that song but.. he was a 40 year old man. Or even worse, some song in a different language. I didn't wish for this guy to die, I just hope he'll grow a taste in music soon.. or just turn the volume down.
Guy-who-zooms-pass-zebra-crossings.
FUCK YOU MAN I COULD'VE DIED! I swear, he was probably 15 centimetres from me. If I could get away with it, rocks would've flown through your windscreen, buddy. This guy.. drove into a post. Then his car caught on fire. But no, he's alive! Hallelujah. He climbs out weakly, croaking for help. Of course, Linda comes to the rescue in her awesome family sports-car and runs him over. Oh shit, did I just run a guy over? I better check. So I reverse and oops, run him over again. Meekly he says 'I'm sorry for nearly killing you at that zebra crossing', I then call 000. I got a busy signal and thus, he died. The end.
I have another rant about buses but I'll save that for later.
~
Most of the people I wish death upon are actually drivers. If I could drive properly, I'd tailgate them and dent their car a little bit or maybe I'd wait until they innocently get out and then.. RUN THEM OVER. No, unfortunately I am yet to drive on the left hand side of the road.
People I've killed off in my mind:
Guy-who-parks-over-crossing-line.
At the traffic light when the man turns green, at least 100 OLSH girls cross the road to find that an idiot has parked his car over the entire line. Thus, we were forced to go ALL THE WAY AROUND his car and put ourselves in danger of the moving traffic a mere metre from us. I mentally decapitated him and turned him into dog food.
Girl-who-talks-on-the-phone-while-driving-really-fast.
Like, oh-em-gee, my hair is, like, so good today cuz, like, I just got it cut and like, *hair flick*. No body gives a shit. It cant be so important that you have to put other people at risk. Put your goddamn phone down and drive at a normal speed. In my head, the phone shaved her entire head off and then ate her alive.
Girl-who-applies-makeup-while-driving.
I gotta say, she's got some talent if she can turn herself from pimply man to beautiful woman all the while driving and putting others at risk. Wake up a little earlier, dear, the you'll have time to put that mask on and hide your flaws. The makeup was of course acid and thus, her entire face caved in within minutes of applied it. She later died from suicide because she was so ugly.
Guy-who-plays-really-loud-music-at-the-stop-light.
He has his window down and bobs his head (sometimes he sings along) to some really old music from 2000, e.g. Pink's Let's Get This Party Started. Not that there's actually anything wrong with that song but.. he was a 40 year old man. Or even worse, some song in a different language. I didn't wish for this guy to die, I just hope he'll grow a taste in music soon.. or just turn the volume down.
Guy-who-zooms-pass-zebra-crossings.
FUCK YOU MAN I COULD'VE DIED! I swear, he was probably 15 centimetres from me. If I could get away with it, rocks would've flown through your windscreen, buddy. This guy.. drove into a post. Then his car caught on fire. But no, he's alive! Hallelujah. He climbs out weakly, croaking for help. Of course, Linda comes to the rescue in her awesome family sports-car and runs him over. Oh shit, did I just run a guy over? I better check. So I reverse and oops, run him over again. Meekly he says 'I'm sorry for nearly killing you at that zebra crossing', I then call 000. I got a busy signal and thus, he died. The end.
I have another rant about buses but I'll save that for later.
~
26 October 2009
Pore Strip
Today I found out the hard way that when you stick a band-aid-like object on your face, wait 10 minutes then peel it off, it's going to hurt.
In an attempt to get rid of the blackheads on my nose, I spent $5 on magic stickers that promised to make them disappear into this air. Basically, I had to work for half an hour to pay for something to stick on my face that not only hurts but leaves a red mark.
Of course being the idiot that I am, I'm not going to stop using it. Keep trying, I say! I have 5 more strips to use up. Woo.
In an attempt to get rid of the blackheads on my nose, I spent $5 on magic stickers that promised to make them disappear into this air. Basically, I had to work for half an hour to pay for something to stick on my face that not only hurts but leaves a red mark.
Of course being the idiot that I am, I'm not going to stop using it. Keep trying, I say! I have 5 more strips to use up. Woo.
03 October 2009
Idiots
I realize that perhaps a 'blog' is just another word for 'rant space' and thus, this is now my rant space. I find that it is so much easier to compile words in my mind than type it out because once it is on screen, it makes no sense. Speaking and understanding 3 languages, I guess that makes me tri-lingual, I think in a mixture of all. Often, I think in only English but as my vocabulary isn't exactly impressive, I struggle to find the right words and resort to replacing it with Khmer or Chinese. Hence, I often compile sentences that has 3 languages in it that only I can understand.
Nonetheless, today, I'd like to complain about the idiot customers who come to McDonald's. Purposely to make my life hell.
On Monday, it was a public holiday. They all conspired against me, knowing in advance that I would be in Drive Thru. Planning ahead, they said 'OK, Team 1 shall attack at 1742 hours. Do you have your screaming 4-year-olds ready?' and of course, they did. So at 1742 (if you can't read 24-hr time then now would be a great time to learn), screaming kids and their useless parents come through Drive Thru and my ears begin to bleed.
It's like it was an idiot's public holiday and they all decided to come out. Screaming in the speaker box, smelling terrible, half drunk and some missing their front teeth, they order food that we didn't even sell. 'Double whopper no onion' followed by a zoned-out 'duhhhhh' sound. Of course, being an optimist, I always look forward to going to work. I start my shift well-groomed and happy. I end my shift, twitching and tense, snapping at anyone who makes eye-contact with me.
I won't be racist but there were CERTAIN Australian people who were just...terrible.
Through the speaker-box:
Customer: nnnlnnnuhhdddnnnmmmmuuuaahhnnmmdddduhhhh
Linda: I'm sorry, was that a Big Mac meal without cheese?
Customer: nnnnnuuuuuummmmusuuuuulllldhhnnnnmmmuudduhhh
Linda: Sorry, was the Big Mac just by itself?
Customer: nnhhuuaaaaeeemmmueuuuudhhhuumammmhuuudhhduhhh
Linda: Uh.. if you just drive down, I can take your order at the window.
At the window:
Customer: cuhnnnnuuuudmmmujuuuulaluuuuuasuusjuduhhh
Linda: ...
I have no made it my goal to touch as little skin as possible. Who knows where their hands have been? So I lay the notes on top of the receipt paper tactfully so that it covers most of their palm. Then, I place the coins on top of the notes.
I have to give a special mention to the feral kid who was in the blue car last night. He was about... 7 or maybe 8. Let's say 10 at the most. This kid... was making VERY rude gestures to me, followed by a wink and lip-licking. I wanted to puke and throw coins at his head. The gestures... a little kid shouldn't even know the gestures... OR WHAT IT MEANS! It is so wrong. Feral kid.
Linda
Nonetheless, today, I'd like to complain about the idiot customers who come to McDonald's. Purposely to make my life hell.
On Monday, it was a public holiday. They all conspired against me, knowing in advance that I would be in Drive Thru. Planning ahead, they said 'OK, Team 1 shall attack at 1742 hours. Do you have your screaming 4-year-olds ready?' and of course, they did. So at 1742 (if you can't read 24-hr time then now would be a great time to learn), screaming kids and their useless parents come through Drive Thru and my ears begin to bleed.
It's like it was an idiot's public holiday and they all decided to come out. Screaming in the speaker box, smelling terrible, half drunk and some missing their front teeth, they order food that we didn't even sell. 'Double whopper no onion' followed by a zoned-out 'duhhhhh' sound. Of course, being an optimist, I always look forward to going to work. I start my shift well-groomed and happy. I end my shift, twitching and tense, snapping at anyone who makes eye-contact with me.
I won't be racist but there were CERTAIN Australian people who were just...terrible.
Through the speaker-box:
Customer: nnnlnnnuhhdddnnnmmmmuuuaahhnnmmdddduhhhh
Linda: I'm sorry, was that a Big Mac meal without cheese?
Customer: nnnnnuuuuuummmmusuuuuulllldhhnnnnmmmuudduhhh
Linda: Sorry, was the Big Mac just by itself?
Customer: nnhhuuaaaaeeemmmueuuuudhhhuumammmhuuudhhduhhh
Linda: Uh.. if you just drive down, I can take your order at the window.
At the window:
Customer: cuhnnnnuuuudmmmujuuuulaluuuuuasuusjuduhhh
Linda: ...
I have no made it my goal to touch as little skin as possible. Who knows where their hands have been? So I lay the notes on top of the receipt paper tactfully so that it covers most of their palm. Then, I place the coins on top of the notes.
I have to give a special mention to the feral kid who was in the blue car last night. He was about... 7 or maybe 8. Let's say 10 at the most. This kid... was making VERY rude gestures to me, followed by a wink and lip-licking. I wanted to puke and throw coins at his head. The gestures... a little kid shouldn't even know the gestures... OR WHAT IT MEANS! It is so wrong. Feral kid.
Linda
30 September 2009
Phobia
As I grudgingly got up from my cosy bed this morning, I never imagined that a monster would be waiting for me. I trudged to the bathroom to wash sleep from my tired eyes and quickly glanced at the mirror. My choppy self-cut hair doesn’t look too bad and I’m somewhat proud of it. The roar of my electric toothbrush was my morning wake up call; I could taste the sweet minty taste of the toothpaste on my tongue. I’m glad I decided to wake Lisa up as I would have never been able to deal with the monster alone.
We both moved slowly even though it was 10:00 am. School holidays calls not for fun times but for sleeping in and putting on a few harmless kilos. My toasted ham and cheese sandwich tasted a little burnt - perhaps I’d left it in the grill press for too long. Without my glasses, I could only see blurs around me. Perhaps if I’d seen IT earlier, I would’ve been braver. Putting on my glasses, I was greeted by a large and menacing creature. It grinned at me mockingly, its slimy body moved towards me, suffocating me and stealing my air. I began to hyperventilate as I screamed for help from my sister.
She sat on the couch, paying no attention to my trembling body that was becoming catatonic. I ran screaming into the garage, looking for a weapon of some sort that may help me survive this creature. I came back in, feeling brave, holding a pathetic broom stick in my hands. The monster launched itself at me, its deathly black eyes pierced into me. A scream erupted from my lips as it touched my broom stick, I curled into a defensive position. The monster sniggered at me and turned away, sauntering through my house as though it was its property. Its flexible body moved gracefully towards the carpet. No, I couldn’t let it get to the carpet. A war-cry escaped from my mouth as I attempt to attack it with my trusted broomstick again.
But as soon as it touched my broomstick, I lost all energy. My body shook with fear and I struggled to catch my breath. I stood sobbing, my legs were weak and struggled to hold me up. When I was about to give up on life, my sister took the broomstick from me. Bravely, she swept the some-sort-of-bug into a dust pan and tipped it out in the garage bin. Still sobbing like a child, I clutched onto the dining room chair for dear life.
We both moved slowly even though it was 10:00 am. School holidays calls not for fun times but for sleeping in and putting on a few harmless kilos. My toasted ham and cheese sandwich tasted a little burnt - perhaps I’d left it in the grill press for too long. Without my glasses, I could only see blurs around me. Perhaps if I’d seen IT earlier, I would’ve been braver. Putting on my glasses, I was greeted by a large and menacing creature. It grinned at me mockingly, its slimy body moved towards me, suffocating me and stealing my air. I began to hyperventilate as I screamed for help from my sister.
She sat on the couch, paying no attention to my trembling body that was becoming catatonic. I ran screaming into the garage, looking for a weapon of some sort that may help me survive this creature. I came back in, feeling brave, holding a pathetic broom stick in my hands. The monster launched itself at me, its deathly black eyes pierced into me. A scream erupted from my lips as it touched my broom stick, I curled into a defensive position. The monster sniggered at me and turned away, sauntering through my house as though it was its property. Its flexible body moved gracefully towards the carpet. No, I couldn’t let it get to the carpet. A war-cry escaped from my mouth as I attempt to attack it with my trusted broomstick again.
But as soon as it touched my broomstick, I lost all energy. My body shook with fear and I struggled to catch my breath. I stood sobbing, my legs were weak and struggled to hold me up. When I was about to give up on life, my sister took the broomstick from me. Bravely, she swept the some-sort-of-bug into a dust pan and tipped it out in the garage bin. Still sobbing like a child, I clutched onto the dining room chair for dear life.
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