Archive for the ‘Australia’ Category


This is just a wish to everyone who reads this blog to have an awesome 2012, with all the joy and fortune you dreamed of and deserve, and hopefully the world won’t end.

HAPPY 2012!!!’



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Bursts of Gold

The last post was about losing the one and only rose in the bush to a thievin’ bastard.

Well, THIS post is a happy one ūüôā

First, because there have been more roses blooming and the plant is doing wonderfully well – photos below.

Second, because I managed to sneak in a post for November, therefore NOT ruining my mission of having a full calendar of posts on my blog ūüėČ

Back to the roses. What a pleasurable sight to see in the morning, when I leave the house. Can you imagine anything more bright, cheery and gorgeous?

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The Rose Thief

At the end of last summer, Amir and I got into a DIY phase that saw us building and drilling stuff, doing a spot (or two) of gardening, and so on.

We bought a few plants and set to work planting them – a native bush that is still in midget proportions, a little decorative chilli plant (decorative because the chillies it produces are… well, let’s just say, TINY), a climbing plant that was native to Australia and produced pretty little yellow flowers… and a gorgeous yellow rose bush.

The bad news: the creeping plant died when the idiots at the local council came and sprayed weed killer over it. It just happened to be planted next to the fence so it could climb (and it was climbing fast!), but on the other side of the fence were some weeds… and the council just sprayed the poison indiscriminately, killing our poor, innocent plant.

The good news? The rose bush, which was pretty small and had ONE yellow rose when we planted it…. is flourishing. It’s grown waaay bigger, with many more new leaves sprouting up… but no rose.

Until last week. I spotted the bud, and excitedly awaited its opening. The next day, it was practically in full bloom. I excitedly woke Amir up to show him the fruit of our toil. We sniffed it, made a fuss over it, and waxed lyrical about the fruity, sweet notes of its scent.

Later that evening, it was gone.

Upon close inspection, it appeared that someone had come by, and snipped the new rose cleanly off the bush. It was cut off so neatly, it couldn’t have just fallen off.

I was so pissed.

Look, if I had a rose bush that was just crowded with flowers, by all means, people can come and take one or two, no problem.

But this one had just one. ONE. The first one to bloom since we planted it.

And we had a DAY to enjoy it before some moron came and took it. I didn’t even get to take a photo or anything.

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I spent 11 days in Malaysia, visiting family and friends, constantly surrounded by loved ones and engaging in conversation, that to come home to an empty house here in Perth leaves an empty feeling in my soul.

I miss my boyfriend so much. He is away on holidays at the moment and won’t be back for a while. It’s just not the same without him. The dinners in front of the TV, the drives, the walks in the park, feeding the ducks (and having our stale bread scoffed at by the black swan)… I miss all these things.

I know I used to complain about how he can sometimes be ‘overly spontaneous’, like suggesting we go for a quick walk and it ending up an excursion, when I’ve got a pile of Uni work to finish and can’t afford long, meandering walks… but now, I miss it. I need a welcome distraction from the stress of my uni work which is threatening to bury me.

It doesn’t help that I haven’t heard from him since yesterday afternoon. I hope he’s okay. I mean, I know he is, but it’s still not nice missing them and not being able to hear their voice. He’s having phone problems (battery is dead or something), and he usually sends me an email a day but… so far, nothing.

I just miss him so much! It’s been 2 weeks since our mini-airport scene where I saw him properly tear up for the first time ever, as I got ready to board the plane to KL.

Just thinking about it gives me a lump in my throat.


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Random post, but yesterday as I parked my car outside my house, I saw school kids crossing the road to and from Garden City shopping centre.

I saw an little Asian boy (ok by little I mean maybe 13 or 14), walking out of Garden City, happily sipping his bubble tea. Then, a few steps away from my car as he was about to turn the corner, he hid his bubble tea in his jacket. I wondered why he did that, and then I saw.

From the opposite direction, a group of kids from his school (all wearing the same school blazer from Applecross Senior High, I think) were walking towards him. He didn’t want them to see him holding his bubble tea.


I imagine it was because he didn’t want to be stereotyped as a typical Asian kid who loves bubble tea. My first reaction to that thought was, who cares!

But when you’re a teenager in high school, you do care. You want your peers to accept you and think you’re cool (or whatever word or phrase kids use these days). You don’t want them to point and laugh, even if, in the grand scheme of things, their opinion really doesn’t matter. It matters here and now.

Perhaps a few years from now, he’ll think back on that incident and smirk to himself. Or he might not remember it at all.

I know I will.

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A lot of people assume, when they meet me, that English is not my first language.

Not because of the way I speak it (although yes, I do have an accent), but because of the fact that I am not from one of the ‘native-speaking’ countries*. Most often, they assume this based on my appearance¬†(tanned skin, almond-shaped, dark eyes, dark hair), as well as my accent (many people think I’m Canadian – eh?).

It’s interesting because although I am confident in my English-speaking (and writing, and listening, and reading etc) ability,¬†due to my¬†awareness of this assumption that most people have of me here in Australia, I tend to trip up and get tongue-tied and speak funny at times when I feel under pressure.

For example, when I’m talking to customers at work and describing how a product works, I sometimes find myself getting the singular and plurals wrong, as well as mixing multiple tenses into my sentences. It’s so weird because I know it’s wrong, and at the time I do it, I catch myself immediately but my tongue just does not want to cooperate! I’ve said things like “Use this over two week” instead of saying “weeks”. What the eff?

It is annoying and infuritating to me because I am paranoid that the ladies I talk to are smiling benignly at me not because I am a pleasant and lovely salesperson but because they are humouring me since English is obviously not my first language and it’s a struggle for me to speak in “their language”. My imagination goes into overdrive as I conjure up their thoughts in my own head: perhaps she’s thinking of me “Aww, how sweet she got that wrong” or “My, she speaks so fluently! Fantastic!”

Let me just have a moment of total and utter vanity and self-promotion here (as I believe I am entitled) to announce for probably the millionth time to anyone who listens that I scored a 9.0 on my IELTS (International English Language Testing System), across the board. 9.0 on EVERY single thing. 9.0 is the maximum, the highest mark you could possibly get for the IELTS test.

When I showed this to my migration agent he was impressed and asked to take a copy of my certificate, as he hadn’t seen such a score “in about ten years”. In fact, he told me to frame it. So excuse me for tooting my own horn. Before he reacted that way, I didn’t think it was THAT big a deal. I mean, yes, I thought it was awesome and a big deal, but not THAT big a deal, y’know? So, I feel, belatedly, that I should bask, revel and boast about this since it’s kind of rare. Not terribly rare, but still rare and special.

Thank you. *Bows*

* Countries generally accepted as ‘native-speaking’: USA, UK, New Zealand, Australia, Ireland, Canada and sometimes South Africa.

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I have a question, folks…

How many of you look back at trysts from your past (and I don’t mean very long ago I’m talking as recently as the end of ’09, onwards) and feel.. wtf was I thinking? Who WAS I at that time to want to date THAT person? UGH!!

I was on Facebook and looking through my photos, friends list and friend’s friends, it made me think…

… why on earth did I give THAT guy the time of day?

I think it really depends on your frame of mind at the time… I can kind of trace how I was feeling and what was happening in my life just by looking at guys I’ve dated / gone on dates with. And I have to say, boy am I glad I’m where I’m at now!

Where I’m headed seems a more positive place, too. Only good things to look forward to in the future. Salut!

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