If We Only Die Once, I Wanna Die With You

[Something I Need – OneRepublic]

As of yesterday, I’m being taught and trained to make coffees at our cafe as well! This is very exciting because once I’m taught coffee (and become proficient at it), I’m basically able to take care of the whole store (to a degree, I suppose). RESPONSIBILITIES! It also means that I’m expected to work a lot faster than I used to, and to be able to look after other coworkers and help them out. A little daunting, I admit, but the prospect of power just sizzles me with excitement.

Also, I found out that I picked up the basics quite easily, and now it’s a matter of practice, practice, and more practice, until I become as fast as my supervisors, and make beautiful coffees too.

That’s just a small update on what’s been happening since last week. I’ve been playing Pokemon Y, obviously. The game is astonishing and it mostly hit everything I expected, and considering I was building my own hype for about 8 months, it would have been near impossible for the game to actually match my expectations. As always, my slow playing habits mean that everyone who I play with are ages ahead of me, and the battles I do with them are very one-sided, but I won’t let that detract from my enjoyment of my little piece of gem.

I’m also been accepted and offered a place in the courses that I applied for! Now it’s a matter of accepting the offers myself, applying for student loans and whatnot, and getting all ready for conscientious studying. If I learned anything from all the time I spend at work now, it’s that I’m fully capable of not just learning the basics but being really good at it, as long as I put my whole mind to it. I don’t know, though, I mean there are all sorts of new games to play in 2014!!!

On Saturday, Mela and I went to a friend’s birthday party in Essendon, and it was her first time driving into the city. The way home was extremely scary for both of us, because there were lots of cars, and we didn’t know the way at all, and was blindly following the GPS which repeatedly told us to merge into wrong lanes, so she was doing scary turns out of lanes last second. I think it will be a while before she’s confident enough to drive in the city, but for the most part she’s a very capable driver! Maybe I should brush up on navigating skills…

Also, today I shouted my parents lunch. I don’t know about you, but in my family, as I am the only child, there aren’t many times when I buy my parents things – they’re also the kind of parents who don’t really want things bought for them. So today we went to a new Japanese restaurant that opened and I footed the bill. Felt pretty good!

I’m heading off to sleep now, because tomorrow/today is my Dad’s birthday, and we’re having people over. That means I need to clean up my spread of junk food and USB cables since my little corner in the house is actually the entertainment area.

I’ll try to blog again soon, mostly because I feel like I should. But also because lately Serena and I haven’t been talking, and maybe if I blog she and I can discuss my posts. That may be optimistic.

Alex.

When we kiss, they’re perfectly aligned

[Such Great Heights – Iron and Wine cover]

My relationship with my mother has been improving lately. That is not to say that at times she inexplicably explodes at me, or something she’d do just make me lose faith in her completely – it’s a disheartening thing to think of your mother ‘ this is why I hate people’ (and I know it sounds harsh, but my mother’s view, for someone who’s meant to be a ‘minority’, is shockingly racist and narrow-minded).

But, apart from that, on a very basic level, things have gotten a bit better. She’s still strict on matters that confounds me, but she’s more lenient in letting me find my own way, and recently she’s been regaling me with stories of the awkward drama that’s been happening behind my back whilst I was young.

For example, it turned out that my mom’s family strictly opposed her marrying my dad – by technicality, they eloped.

It turned out my maternal grandmother, who passed away when I was 5 or 6 and who I thought loved me enough that she overlooked any shortcomings she saw in my dad, actually refused to see me for a whole year after I was born.

And then my mom told me about how my fraternal grandparents, who I know raised me until I was 8, offered to take me in because they saw how terrible the conditions were at my maternal grandparents’, and even though it was difficult for them they never complained. Originally my mother had told them they’d only need to care for me for 2 years, and 2 years became five and a half, and when she apologized, all they said was, “Taking care of your daughter has been nothing but fun, and it’s been a really good distraction from old age.”

I mean, I get that being their only grandchild, it’s an automatic doting kind of thing, and if my uncle had had a child – who would have definitely stayed behind in China – that child would definitely get more love than me, and that’s fine. But at the time they weren’t to know that I’d live overseas. It’s difficult to communicate with them because of the language and generation barrier, and there are a lot of things happening in my life that I just can’t explain nor expect them to get, but when I really think about it, I’m quite dreading the day we get a phone call with some gravely bad news.

But yes, back to my mother. I’m glad that she’s starting to take me as a mature and serious thinker. Recently a family friend of ours have been going through some weird stuff, where the mom of the family is just making plain bad choices, and my mom had been pretty worked up over it, but didn’t know what to say when the mom visited us, so I told her beforehand to just be diplomatic – don’t agree or disagree, because it would just make things difficult, and my mom’s health can’t deal with difficult. And the thing is she is actually taking all my advice, because she says I’m better at understanding social interactions.

We’ll see how this goes.

Also, the title of this post, for my own future references, has everything to do with a very important thing that happened. I don’t quite want to write it here yet, and it’s nothing personal against the person to whom it is concerned. We’ll see.

I’m damned happy.

Alex.

You wrote the book on how to be a liar

[Bubblewrap – McFly]

Day 12: Your relationship with your parents.

Wow this really could go on to be long and hard (ha) and I might even make myself cry.

I’m sure the history of my blog has marked the ups and downs of my relationship with my parents. Sadly mostly are down. I don’t think I ever record good moments.

It might be because, to me, the good moments are expected. They’re never THAT good a moment. They’re just decent moments of no-unhappiness. I expect them as a general way of life.

The unhappy stuff are too frequent, and affect me too much. Again, it comes as a result of my expecting certain things, and it inevitably falling short. I suppose I should stop having expectations on my life, but my logic is that the moment I stop expecting and wanting good things to happen to me, is the moment I cease to have the need to live.

I am…NOT in a good mood day, evidently.

And the next day’s topic is still nothing lighthearted.

Alex.

He calls her up, he’s tripping on the phone

[Dance Floor Anthem – Good Charlotte]

Day 11: Write about your sibling(s) or what it’s like to be an only child.

For quite a few years I’ve been wanting an older sibling – so it’s one of those dream-only deals. I like to be depended upon, don’t get me wrong, but I think I enjoy being protected and looked after a lot more.

It’s something I don’t think about, though, but I’ll think about it now. I’m the only child in my family, and on my dad’s side, his one brother didn’t have any children, so I’m my grandparents’ only grand-child.

Sometimes I wonder why I didn’t turn out like a conventional girl, a conventional daughter. Sometimes I wonder why I couldn’t have an easy life where I like dressing up, where I know the different kind of shoes and bags, just so it’s easier on my relationship with my parents, which is the next post.

There’s a lot of pressure on me to be their ideal daughter, which over the years I’ve noticed is almost everything I am not. I don’t know how to tell them.

I do tend to focus on the negatives, though.

Positives: My uncle and aunt dote on me like their own child, even though I hardly connect with them, being overseas. My grandparents would forgive me for nearly everything – I say nearly – and would just tell me to try harder if I stuff up. My parents really can’t disown me, even though the nasty part of me thinks it’ll be a lot easier if they just disown me, so they’re in the wrong, and I can move on and live how I want.

I don’t really need siblings, anyway, I have many friends who are very willing to let me play the immature role and take care of me.

Alex.

Your Ray Of Light Will Fizzle Out

[Miss Murder – AFI]

Day 3: a letter to your parents.

Dear Parents,

Without going into a 2000 word rant ending with someone commenting that I “treat my parents like crap” and sticking their nose into my business (whoever you are, I still think you’re a bit of a dick), I will simply write this:

As soon as I can, you’re out of my life. Saves me the stress of having to deal with you.

And, in my opinion, I would say as soon as you can, sort out exactly what the hell your marriage actually is, because at the moment it seems like a painful charade you guys are putting yourself through. I wouldn’t exactly say you hate each other, but I can tell you don’t love each other anymore, so what are you going to do?

Also, no, I don’t plan on having any children so shut the hell up! Whether I want to have children or not is my problem, and I’m sure you can just tell that I don’t want children because every time you bring up grandchildren I scowl. I cannot be guilted into it, so just give up. And there’s no way in hell I’m living with you two ’til you die, and you know it too because I’ve brought up moving out many many times. So stop dreaming.

Your daughter, ALEX. I prefer to be called ALEX. It’s a unisex name, and I got it from Lucy Liu’s middle name. So get the fuck off my back about me being a man. I didn’t denounce my Chinese name, nor have I taken it out, it’s just my middle name now. Stop making me out to be a disgrace to you.

P.S. To whoever reads this and thinks ‘this girl’s a bitch’, you have no idea what my family is like, so butt out.

Now I Know EXACTLY Why…

…Why me not going to the formal was a great idea.

Firstly, I never would’ve worn a dress, so the alternative would’ve been me in a suit.

And today proved why that would’ve been bad.

I went to Chadstone with parents to shop for Valedictory, something I actually can’t not go to. Obviously, I wasn’t going to buy a dress. I went to YD, where they stocked up to XXXS, which is perfect for me.

Anyway, went in and the lady was pretty smooth when I asked her if they had my size. Pointed me over to the shirts and dress pants, and hooked me up with a XXS in shirt and a 26 in pants. I thought it was okay, albeit the pants were a bit long (but she can take it up, the lady).

Called mom in, which is where the shit started.

To glaze over things, she basically laughed at me wearing what I was wearing, saying how dumb I looked, and repeatedly saying in English so the lady could understand “you’re a girl, not a boy”.

Yes, we noticed that.

Of course, the poor lady had to stick up for me, and say I looked alright (it’s her job), and then dad came in and laughed as well.

And that was just the shirt and pants. If we had gone on to the jacket/waistcoat, I’m sure they’d’ve DIED of laughter.

So yeah, fuck them.

We didn’t go back, even though now I need to because I later bought a Black Friday jacket (I can’t find an image, sorry, and camera’s not healthy enough to take a picture with) which needs a good shirt underneath or you’ll see my stomach when I left my arms (ew). Also, still need pants, because it’s a no-denim event.

See, I hate having to dress up for shite.

So, does anyone have pants? No, I’m kidding.

Alex.

To be in Love…or not to be?

For the last 2 weeks in Chinese school we’d been doing practises for our upcoming SAC which is the oral. In the oral we’re meant to persuade our parents (as performed by our teacher) to allow us to do a certain something.

(By the way, I know I said I’d write like Dom for this blog. I thought about it. I’d rather stay sane.)

This week, my partner and myself are to perform “Should teenagers date in high school?”

And the really depressing part was, as I was preparing for it (I didn’t get far. I have Chinese school this afternoon and I still don’t know what I’m saying) I realize I can’t actually think of 5 good logical reasons why teenagers SHOULD date in high school because actually, there aren’t that many solid arguments.

So far, I have:

You can help each other with homework (easily debunkable)

He can keep you safe (assuming the oral is performed by a girl which I am. Oh wait I just read that again. Ha)

It is a part of social life that everyone has to experience

All my friends are doing it

But the thing is, I have a strong conviction that dating isn’t necessarily BAD in high school. I mean if it makes you happy, and you’re responsible enough to be…well responsible, then I don’t see the problem. But of course if you get right down to it, there are a million reasons for parents to say no and very little for them to say yes.

Anyway, wish me luck for my presentation. It’s nothing official so I don’t really care but, still, I don’t want to fuck up either.

Alex.

If only…

If it weren’t for the extra NON-COMPULSORY Chinese homework, I would have just finished ALL of my holidays homework, bar printing out and sticking on.

I realized that I do homework and study better when my parents are NOT around to supervise. When they are around, I’d do maybe 3 maths questions before giving up and setting it aside. But today, they both went out to the city to meet a friend and celebrate Chinese New Year, and I went and finished 3 exercises in Maths without taking a single break (even to pee. That was a small mistake. I’ll pee next time).

Anyway, I’m just wondering on how to break it to them.

“I’m sorry, it’s not you, it’s me. Well, I guess it is you. But I don’t know why! I’m just as confused as you are.”

“We just can’t be together when studying is involved. I think it’s better for the both of us.”

“Look, I’m gonna be home late. I got a lot of studying to do. Don’t wait up.”

“I’m studying with someone else.”

Happy CNY to all you Asians, and Aussie Day to all you Aussies. I don’t know, either the shit can really go down with the racist things, or we might have one of the best CNY/AD ever because everyone would just be partying.

新年快乐

Aussie Aussie Aussie! Oi Oi Oi!

Yeah…

Keep Cool (and studying hard. All. Night. Long.)

D.F.

Cross My T’s And Dot My I’s

Today I wrote those letters (or rather, finished writing the letters) to those people. I discovered 2 things:

1. I can actually write straight and neat, but only in one letter.

2. I can write a LOT one minute and have a complete writer’s block the next. Which I know is usual for a lot of people.

I can’t wait until the recipients read the letters. Because then they’d know a small part of me. (“Can you feel it? Can you feel me inside of you?”)

Apart from that I didn’t manage to achieve much. I wrote Eunice’s and Dani’s before the weekend, and today I wrote Bee’s and Carmaine’s.

Right now, mom had just come home and immediately had started screaming at my dad. I wonder how much more of this he can bear before he really blows his top. And by that I mean either something directly towards mom or something kind of passive. Most of the time I can block her voice out but it does become hard sometimes. I hate that he doesn’t retaliate, and I hate how she’d not let something go, and would keep picking at it and picking at it.

Like when I lost my Metcard (which I know is stupid but just bear with me) I got a telling off which I know I deserve. But I figured she’d respect that I’m nearly an adult and know that I feel enough shame already, and punish myself and learn from my mistake, but no. She spends the whole day telling me what a disgrace I am, and how useless I am at looking after myself. She tells me that she’s sick (which she was, 2 years ago, for about a week) and that she’s always tired, yet she manages to find enough energy to scream at me at a volume that in other households would be considered as a full-heated argument. Once she came home and didn’t stop screaming from the moment she walked in, until dinnertime (dinner which dad and I cooked for her) and then after dinner as well. That’s of course, not mentioning the abusive names she call me. But I might be wrong. It could just be a Chinese tradition to call a husband an imbecile.

Whatever. I think I need to get myself a stressball. That, or more TV time. I’m lucky that I’ve found escape when I’m by myself, and friends when I’m with others. I’m not like some kids who have no one, and I’m not like some kids who gets bashed.

Crap, this blog turned emo.

Writing the letters was soothing, definitely. Because every word I wrote reminded me of the person I was writing to.

You should try it some time, just write a letter to a friend, best friend, sibling, family member if you have one you actually like…(which brings me to the point that my mom would openly and while I am around tell people my bad points, and even somehow make my good points into jokes or silly ideas, but STOP SHUT UP!) and tell them what you think of them, or what you’re thinking in general. Even if you never post the letter, it could still help you. I COULD take my own advice, write a letter to my mother, then burn it, but I don’t want to waste ink, paper nor time on her.

De Fluffe, Out.

P.S. My nose and chin (yep that too) has reached its final stages of peeling. Now it’s just dry. I’m going to use some of my scent-less moisturiser. It hurts like a bitch, my nose does. Thanks Julia for your suggestion.

P.P.S. Geez my blog’s a bit bipolar. I talk about how much I love my friends then WHAM how much I hate being at home. Then back to friends again then WHAM snap back to bad feelings.