7 more days...
til i'm old as a cow....24....*shudders*
Annnnddd...I've not achieved much. People may think that I have achieved much - leaving the country, having a job that pays the bills, and getting married. Well, I do not think so, because my job or lets just say all the work I have done in the UK in the past 2 years...have not saved me ANYTHING AT ALL! The government sucks, I've had problems with my work permit, having to go the 'kopi money' way, etc etc etc. Too much hassle and drama. Now I'm just glad, amidst all the people losing their high-profile jobs, I still have mine, mediocre status in the NHS. I just am too ambitious it is destroying me. I always want to be better better better better..but how can I be when EVERYONE wants to be like that. Thinking about all those hundreds and thousands of students having degrees from Uni of Oxford, Uni of Cambridge, Manchester, Leeds, Edinburgh, Dublin... etc etc etc...coming to the UK to find work. So what makes a stupid lowly UTAR grad like me stand out? So do you think I should just tone down on the ambition? I'm not sure. I just have no spare cash to spend on upgrading my qualifications. And my priorities have shifted now I've been made a wife. I'm confused and still in dilemma.
Nevermind that...
Lets talk about a British summer bank holiday, the first in May. What comes into minds of Britons when there's a holiday in the 'summer'? Barbecues, and fat, frumpy baggages of women sunning their cellulite-infested asses, turning themselves into shades of bright red and orange (when they have used too much of Garnier fake tan sprays). I was just watching the BBC Breakfast show and there were a few women from local LEAs speaking about schools in the UK, and I can safely say they must've been approaching retirement, and god they just look orange! Really orange! Whyyy? Cos they're fat and saggy pack of cougars who can't show off their embarassing bodies off, even their husbands could cough splutter in blood, that they resort into the only thing that seem to dominate the advertisement industries in the UK - tanning and sunning products. And the result? Ultimately catastrophic. It amazes me how much the women here think about only barbecues and fake tans in the summer but not how to lose weight and confidently boast that about in the summer (at least they will turn bright red which isn't as bad as orange). Reason I am blogging about how disgusting this matter of fact is because women here are stupid. I know, my friends hate being tanned fakely and rather stay pale, which I highly respect. There's no harm on being pale. Imagine if you got so orange your own mother wouldn't even recognise you!
I went for my first summer barbecue this year at my father-in-law's 65th birthday and retirement do. I always look forward to go to his house for parties and barbecues because his current wife is a gem with guests, and she, I can say is probably one of the most sincere person I have known here. I know Nick's mum hates her (talking about spousal rivalry), and would probably sadden her if she knew how close I was with dadd'y current wife, but it doesn't concern me, and neither it concerns Nick, so I keep in good ties with her. Her barbecues are excellent. When we arrived there, her children from her previous bf (7 of them + Nick's half brother daddy had with her) would greet me with shovels of hugs and kisses and they would always get me a drink. So I started my evening with a pint of Strongbow. I waited for Patsy and Steve to show up because everyone there was so boring I had to occupy myself by helping Loretta with the barbee. Meatballs, seafood kebabs, chicken, pork, venison, angus, lamb, fish, etc etc. All in the barbecue. (Oh, at least the weather was pleasant! Although a bit cold) Patsy and Steve showed up and we chatted and chatted over a large variety of food (pork pies, pasties, salad, crisps and dips, mini eclairs, beetroot, corn and chicken with pasta, chocolate and vanilla gateau, basically anything you could die for are served). And then, Steve exclusively told me that I could be the first in the party to be served with his special mulled wine recipe, and I thought, what better way to warm up but with mulled wine. so I had a glass and boy that gave me a kick I would never forget. We were all having relaxed conversations over continuous flow of gluhwein, I fell in love with it and had another glass. Trust me this is nastier than multiple shots of Tequila. After my 3rd glass, I couldn't stand straight and thankfully Steve finished the flask of gulhwein so that's it for the day. And I was craving for more drinks Liam poured a hefty glass of red wine into my unfinished glass of gluhwein. So there, a lethal alcoholic combination. I was so warm and fuzzy I just started going to everyone I knew at the party for a cuddle and I knew I was going to be carried home.
And then we were playing truth or dare with the moshers. It was, sing the most embarassing song you've ever known. When it came to my turn, guess what I sang? Our dear old national anthem. There I went, in my drunken state, shrieking every word of our national anthem to everyone who obviously didn't understand our Bahasa Melayu and that was the tip of the iceberg. I got carried home. LOL. To think that I still remember every word made me chuckle. But to sing it at the wrong occassion pretty much sums up the joke of the day - ME! But everyone thought that was so endearing in my drunken stupor I believe all my 'sins' have been 'pardoned'.
I came home and just went straight to bed, not been awake for 14 hours. I woke up the next day with the biggest of hangovers + migraine which I absolutely hate. And some chocolate cake that got stucked on my hair. Sighs. So there I was changing the sheets, pillow cases, and washing my hair. It was a memorable day in my diary of drunken shenanigans. I pretty much spent a disaapointing Bnak Holiday Monday indoors, detoxing, because it was fucking raining. BOOHOO to all British suckers who decided to have their bank holiday barbecue on the monday!
What appalls me is that why when there is sun, everyone just bares it all. Face it, just because there is sun doesn't mean it's warm you bunch of losers! Nick and his mum had a conversation in the park about how they were baring it all, and I said that because they are tired of covering up. And it might have puzzled both of them cos it might have related that british people love being naked and are cheap. (yes they are in alot of ways). British people (this generation of Britons, really) have no dignity whatsoever. They can't give two shits about anything but themselves. That's why sometimes the current generation of Malaysians are so much better in comparison. I'm not saying I'm hot, have the best tan in the world, and have a sexy body, buT AT LEAST I'm not FAT like most British girls and I cover up and dress sensibly with the weather and temperatures. Nevermind that, the doctors in the authority I work in are real cheapo. Yeah they buy their stuff from topshop, but why buy rugs rather than proper clothing? This doctor that I work with, Maggie, she's like close to being nude most of the time anyway. Can see her blue colour bra against a rug-like hippie looking white blouse. Real fashion disaster man! Shame to fashion pioneers like Twiggy who so happen come from England.
oklah, bye for now. Next I will blog about work. If you are all not bored of reading such a boring, elaborate post.
Annnnddd...I've not achieved much. People may think that I have achieved much - leaving the country, having a job that pays the bills, and getting married. Well, I do not think so, because my job or lets just say all the work I have done in the UK in the past 2 years...have not saved me ANYTHING AT ALL! The government sucks, I've had problems with my work permit, having to go the 'kopi money' way, etc etc etc. Too much hassle and drama. Now I'm just glad, amidst all the people losing their high-profile jobs, I still have mine, mediocre status in the NHS. I just am too ambitious it is destroying me. I always want to be better better better better..but how can I be when EVERYONE wants to be like that. Thinking about all those hundreds and thousands of students having degrees from Uni of Oxford, Uni of Cambridge, Manchester, Leeds, Edinburgh, Dublin... etc etc etc...coming to the UK to find work. So what makes a stupid lowly UTAR grad like me stand out? So do you think I should just tone down on the ambition? I'm not sure. I just have no spare cash to spend on upgrading my qualifications. And my priorities have shifted now I've been made a wife. I'm confused and still in dilemma.
Nevermind that...
Lets talk about a British summer bank holiday, the first in May. What comes into minds of Britons when there's a holiday in the 'summer'? Barbecues, and fat, frumpy baggages of women sunning their cellulite-infested asses, turning themselves into shades of bright red and orange (when they have used too much of Garnier fake tan sprays). I was just watching the BBC Breakfast show and there were a few women from local LEAs speaking about schools in the UK, and I can safely say they must've been approaching retirement, and god they just look orange! Really orange! Whyyy? Cos they're fat and saggy pack of cougars who can't show off their embarassing bodies off, even their husbands could cough splutter in blood, that they resort into the only thing that seem to dominate the advertisement industries in the UK - tanning and sunning products. And the result? Ultimately catastrophic. It amazes me how much the women here think about only barbecues and fake tans in the summer but not how to lose weight and confidently boast that about in the summer (at least they will turn bright red which isn't as bad as orange). Reason I am blogging about how disgusting this matter of fact is because women here are stupid. I know, my friends hate being tanned fakely and rather stay pale, which I highly respect. There's no harm on being pale. Imagine if you got so orange your own mother wouldn't even recognise you!
I went for my first summer barbecue this year at my father-in-law's 65th birthday and retirement do. I always look forward to go to his house for parties and barbecues because his current wife is a gem with guests, and she, I can say is probably one of the most sincere person I have known here. I know Nick's mum hates her (talking about spousal rivalry), and would probably sadden her if she knew how close I was with dadd'y current wife, but it doesn't concern me, and neither it concerns Nick, so I keep in good ties with her. Her barbecues are excellent. When we arrived there, her children from her previous bf (7 of them + Nick's half brother daddy had with her) would greet me with shovels of hugs and kisses and they would always get me a drink. So I started my evening with a pint of Strongbow. I waited for Patsy and Steve to show up because everyone there was so boring I had to occupy myself by helping Loretta with the barbee. Meatballs, seafood kebabs, chicken, pork, venison, angus, lamb, fish, etc etc. All in the barbecue. (Oh, at least the weather was pleasant! Although a bit cold) Patsy and Steve showed up and we chatted and chatted over a large variety of food (pork pies, pasties, salad, crisps and dips, mini eclairs, beetroot, corn and chicken with pasta, chocolate and vanilla gateau, basically anything you could die for are served). And then, Steve exclusively told me that I could be the first in the party to be served with his special mulled wine recipe, and I thought, what better way to warm up but with mulled wine. so I had a glass and boy that gave me a kick I would never forget. We were all having relaxed conversations over continuous flow of gluhwein, I fell in love with it and had another glass. Trust me this is nastier than multiple shots of Tequila. After my 3rd glass, I couldn't stand straight and thankfully Steve finished the flask of gulhwein so that's it for the day. And I was craving for more drinks Liam poured a hefty glass of red wine into my unfinished glass of gluhwein. So there, a lethal alcoholic combination. I was so warm and fuzzy I just started going to everyone I knew at the party for a cuddle and I knew I was going to be carried home.
And then we were playing truth or dare with the moshers. It was, sing the most embarassing song you've ever known. When it came to my turn, guess what I sang? Our dear old national anthem. There I went, in my drunken state, shrieking every word of our national anthem to everyone who obviously didn't understand our Bahasa Melayu and that was the tip of the iceberg. I got carried home. LOL. To think that I still remember every word made me chuckle. But to sing it at the wrong occassion pretty much sums up the joke of the day - ME! But everyone thought that was so endearing in my drunken stupor I believe all my 'sins' have been 'pardoned'.
I came home and just went straight to bed, not been awake for 14 hours. I woke up the next day with the biggest of hangovers + migraine which I absolutely hate. And some chocolate cake that got stucked on my hair. Sighs. So there I was changing the sheets, pillow cases, and washing my hair. It was a memorable day in my diary of drunken shenanigans. I pretty much spent a disaapointing Bnak Holiday Monday indoors, detoxing, because it was fucking raining. BOOHOO to all British suckers who decided to have their bank holiday barbecue on the monday!
What appalls me is that why when there is sun, everyone just bares it all. Face it, just because there is sun doesn't mean it's warm you bunch of losers! Nick and his mum had a conversation in the park about how they were baring it all, and I said that because they are tired of covering up. And it might have puzzled both of them cos it might have related that british people love being naked and are cheap. (yes they are in alot of ways). British people (this generation of Britons, really) have no dignity whatsoever. They can't give two shits about anything but themselves. That's why sometimes the current generation of Malaysians are so much better in comparison. I'm not saying I'm hot, have the best tan in the world, and have a sexy body, buT AT LEAST I'm not FAT like most British girls and I cover up and dress sensibly with the weather and temperatures. Nevermind that, the doctors in the authority I work in are real cheapo. Yeah they buy their stuff from topshop, but why buy rugs rather than proper clothing? This doctor that I work with, Maggie, she's like close to being nude most of the time anyway. Can see her blue colour bra against a rug-like hippie looking white blouse. Real fashion disaster man! Shame to fashion pioneers like Twiggy who so happen come from England.
oklah, bye for now. Next I will blog about work. If you are all not bored of reading such a boring, elaborate post.
posted by Penguinferret at 10:37 am
1 Comments:
Nope....not bored at all! Pretty entertaining actually - always bringthen up my sucky weekdays =)
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