2am

Vogue Forums
Ok, I'm reading some of the threads in here and thinking, "Where the fuck do girls get the money to splurge like this?"
YSL Patent Pumps for $725. They were hot, so ok...if you can afford it. But a Fendi pencil case for $150? Are you fucking kidding me?
Burberry Knight heels? Jimmy Choos, Manolo Blanhiks, Miu Miu? I haven't heard of half of the other brands mentioned but God damn..what a wonderful world they're living in if buying a $500 pair of shoes sounds as casual as they make it to be. And I understand if it's some rich investment banker lady rocking these shoes, but many of the girls on here are in university or highshool. Damn rich people.
So to all those who have said that I am rich in the past - what, does it look like I shit out cash? Or my parents, for that matter?

Alright, I'm sorry. I'm just mad because I'm broke as a joke and haven't been shopping since January and haven't had a job till now. I'm going shopping tomorrow though! With a limited supply of cash, ofcourse :(. I want a trust fund for Christmas!! boo

fuck you, economic crisis!

i had to go to the post office today with the determination to finalise my passport application once and for all. the whole thing was a fricking dilemma. the appointment was set for 11am so i left work at 10:30, thinking id be there in 15 minutes which should give me a bit of time to fill in the blanks in the application form. upon arriving i was barracaded at the entrance by a long line of people waiting in the passport application/renewal line. 'that's ok' i thought as i struggled to make my way through the human fort to a bench. 'i'm good' i thought, 'yeahhhh..this is good, i'll get it done today without a problem'. i even smiled to myself. life was good, yeah =). i randomly turned to the last page - the guarantors page - and started scanning.
'surname, yep.. given names..yep, electoral details..check..'
then..

'shit'.

i cursed under my breath at 6 blank boxes next to "date of birth" staring back at me. the old chap filling in the postal code of his envelope frowned so i enviously gazed at the numbers in his boxes -_-.

oh yeah, i had switched phones with my mum because she was complaining she couldn't see the buttons. this one is a sony ericsson, small and black therefore pretty hard to spot amongst the other junk floating around. i rummaged through my bag to fetch my it only to find that it wasn't there.

shit. shit. shit.

the time was 10:47, i still had 13 minutes till deadline and figured it was enough time to make it to and back to work if i sped. luckilly for me, the car infront of me got caught speeding on grand prom (hahahaha) while i switched lanes and gunned it to the lights. on the way back i called faiza's landline and spoke to her mother. i must've been panicking because the poor woman didn't understand what i was talking about and thought i was telemarketer, attempting to hang up on me. after the harmless misunderstanding was resolved she told me faiza's birthday (9th august)and continued to engaged in a long conversation with me about uni, faiza and the holidays - up until i parked my car at the galleria. i quickly farewelled, secretly thanking her for not accusing me of forgetting her daughter's birthday and being a bad friend.

the line at the post office was much shorter now and there was nothing stopping me from entering. while waiting i flipped through the form and filled in my mother's citizenship details. chyeah, i spent an good hour this morning fishing around for my parent's citizenship certificates which caused me to be late for work. this time it was a different lady, not as cheerful and nice as the one i had yesterday. she lazilly scanned my form with a bored expression, like she didn't know all the trouble i went through to be standing right infront of her to check it. everything went by smoothly as i watched her mark off the boxes, indicating that the sections were completed fully and correctly. everything was just dandy until we came to the gurantor's page.

the signature wasn't the same as the one on the back of my photo. 'what do you mean it's not the same??' i asked her and she showed me. the problem was this:



i know it's a crappy picture but hey, i did it on paint and i probably got her signature wrong too. big deal, so con artistry and forgery are definately not my forte but whatever. so you see, the signature in black is the one on my application form, the red signature is the one behind my photo. and the problem? the black one is signed with the first and last name on two lines, the red one is signed all in one line.

i felt like the wind was knocked out of me. i had to take another photo in my work-drenched state and i probably looked even more like a dropkick than the previous photos. 'look' she said, 'get her to sign the new photo exactly like she signed on the form then come back tomorrow.' i gave her a deathly stare. then she added: 'don't worry about making an appointment, just come straight to me.' atleast she's considerate.

so yes, another trip to the postie again tomorrow. all this trouble i go through for it. it should be grateful - it better take me to lots of countries one day.



hmmm..i rant a lot don't i? rhetoric, don't answer. i hope you don't think i'm an angry person because i'm not. i like sunflowers for god's sake. umm..what else..oh! i received my (rather expected) offer for uwa today. so i guess that's bye bye to murdoch and murdoch people, and murdoch refectory, and murdoch lecture theatres, and south street and murdoch drive. and hello to mounts bay road, and city food, and ancient buildings, and highschool friends.

that is all for now, my bodypump class awaits. byee!

today was the fourth time i came to the post office in regards to applying for an adult passport. the first was to grab the form and take the photos, the second was to make an appointment, the third (yesterday) was declined because my photo didn't match up to the specs (a bit of my hair was chopped off -_-). i had taken them in one of them passport photo booths so you'd think they were accepted. reaking of pies and sausages, sweat and oil, i had to pose for another photo. first shot was off, did a second one - i looked daggy in both. i was also missing a document to prove my parent's citizenship at the time of my birth. they want me to find a passport/driver's licence issued nearly 20 years ago?

you've got to be kidding me. that's what i said to the nice lady at the post office today. we had a little rant and rave about how stupid and time-wasting the process was. the making of the appointment, the fishing out of documents issued decades before, the getting-the-photo right, the guarantors. and all this has to be done by 2pm since they don't accept passport applications after 2.30 pm. the post office lady commented on how it sometimes takes people 5 or 6 goes before the passport is finally sent to wherever it's supposed to go after which there is a 2 week downtown period for a card to be slipped into your letterbox then yet another trip to the postie to collect the piece of shit.

i learnt today that babies 6 months of age also had to take photos to accord to those fucking specs. they expect eyes opened, facing straight at the camera, no smiling, no teeth. WTF? they're BABIES - they sleep, they drool, laugh, cry, do funny things with their mouths - how are you supposed to keep a 6 month old baby still?

it was a long, hot, tiring, tedious, frustrating, long day. i let out my frustration infront of a little girl at work today (yes, i was cursing and grumbling to myself) and i feel absolutely horrible now. making a mental note to give her a free donut when she comes back. if she comes back, shit, she's probably not going to come back. ever.

see? this is what you did to me stupid passport application process. whoever invented it should go jump off a bridge. now.

well HAPPY NEW YEARS PPL for all those who read. im not gonna go on about new years resolution crap because i know i won't meet them. so it's better to not have any and avoid the guilt when i don't. haha

i know, i know i'm a week late but excuuuuse me, i'm sick :(
fever, headache, sore throat, blocked nose - the whole lot.
fricking hell, i was sick during summerdayze too which greatly diminished my enjoyment of the day.

so yes, summerdayze was awesome. everyone was killin' the vicks and when i asked for a sniff they would look at me weirdly, grab me by the arm, lean in, and whisper: how much did u take?
then it was my turn to look at them weirdly, raise a 'brow and ask: whaddayamean? i took a noon, afternoon, and a night tablet.
then their eyes would bulge like this o.0: phwooarr you took 3??
and thennnn i show them my stash in the wallet and it isn't only then that they go OHHHH...
codral night and day flu tablets.
i even call ecstasy pills tablets.
i'm such a noob when it comes to drugs.
-_- i was the only one who genuinely needed the sniffers anyway.

um..what else. im a bit lazy. and hungry. so i cbf saying much. this should do it. i should call this my lazy and hungry post.

no. my lazy, hungry and sick post.

nightie night <3

let me set the scene:
you're sitting there having coffee with a friend and you start talking about say...
...feet. i know random, but let's just say this branch stemmed from a conversation about shoes. so you decide to pull a harmless friendly joke to pull your mate's leg a lil'. you lean over, peek under the table and pretend to smirk remarking: "sheesh...with Sun Ming Ming's* feet, i bet the guy's at foot locker panic everytime you walk in eh?"

then it's like pause...they raise an eyebrow...purse the lips..tuck their feet behind the chair legs...cross their arms..lean back...and:
"atleast they don't go running for oxygen masks everytime you show up..."

chhhyyyeaaahhhh...the conversation goes pretty much downhill from there as you both squeeze your minds to squirt out the tiniest faults and bloopers about each other that you can use as an attack (or defence). the ravenous ping pong game finally ends in a big stupid screaming contest about absolutely nothing as one of you storms off, often leaving the remaining person to foot the bill.

it's this irritating defensive attitude that really bugs me about some people. you just can't engage in a humourous light-hearted diss with them. like shit, man. take a chill pill, can't you take a joke? it's like they think the world's out to get them. sometimes they leave me feeling pretty stupid because they don't laugh. and when they don't laugh i automatically come up with two explanations:
a) the joke was just OTT, uncalled for, offensive, lame and not funny, or
b) it happened that they have something shoved so far up their arse that day that it interferes with the "humour/joke alert" function of their brain and so they mis-register it as declaration of war.

i've been told that people who are defensive are insecure, have big egos, or they just had a reallllly bad childhood. so i had a good bitch to a mate about one of these doomed-to-be-disastrous conversations i've just had. it went something like this:

lyn: yeah, then he brought up the thing about me backing up into a pole. like fuck, that was my first time driving! seriously, he is soooo immature.
storm: tell him to lay off the caffeine and loosen up a bit
storm: then make a joke about his manhood and go offline. he'll think about it all night. trust me ;)

haha. seriously? maybeh ;)

note*: Sung Ming Ming is China's tallest basketball player. or, for those of you who don't follow bball, he's the tall kungfu guy in Rush Hour 3 that kicked Chris Tucker's arse hehe.