Hi, I die regularly.
Holy mother of pearl it’s been a month since I last blogged. I’d say my life is mundane, but a lot of shit has happened over the last four to five weeks and now I finally have the time to sit down and write a longass entry about all of it. Maybe I’ll have time to flesh out a new layout, but not too hopeful on that at the moment.
I turned eighteen back on May 26 and the very first thing I did out of the house that day was buy alcohol. Seven hours later, a mildly tipsy ol’ me was dragged into an English lecture whereupon I fell asleep and conked my nose on the bloody desk. That weekend I went out and voraciously attacked the gayest street in Sydney - without a certain somebody who was in bed when I called her at 1AM and told her I wasn’t planning to go home any time soon. What’s that thing called again? Oh yeah…planning…maybe I should be slightly more efficient at that.
Absence of e-cup boobies set aside, it was a lovely night - I drank like a fish and ended up amusing myself in the humping of a telegraph pole and post office box close to the city harbour. The cab fare home was $72 (yeah, shoot me, anyone?), but it was better than taking public transport at half past three in the morning. All in all - a fun night.
I came out to my father two or so weeks back. Let’s re-enact the circumstance, shall we? You can portray me, and I’ll portray my twat of a father:
Setting: Driving home from dance class one Thursday. Grim conversation has ensued.
You: Well, I’m not heterosexual.
Me: What do you mean?
You: I’m gay.
Me: What do you mean?
You: … [significant pause] I’m ho. mo. sexual.
Me: Get out of the car. Out.
You [getting out of the car]: Fine.
Cue the physical fight once I got home, and me thinking (nay, knowing) that it was possibly the most stupid, random, idiotic decision of my life. But at least it’s out in the open. Even if he’s being a bitter ass about it. Conservative military-background Vietnamese fathers are full of fail. He hasn’t worked for the past six months and now says he will no longer support me after this coming weekend - he’s getting me that laptop and mp3 he’d promised since 2004, then I’m going to get a job if I want to stay under this roof. And since my relatives are all jam-packed and whatnot, I’m going to have to get a job. Hurrah, financial independence. Hello world, how are you? My father is a twat. But never fear, determination is here!
My first semester of university finished two weeks ago, and my exams finished last Friday. The next five and a half weeks will be spent sleeping when my insomnia hasn’t kicked in, cursing my insomnia when it’s 7AM and I can’t sleep, sending out a CV anywhere and everywhere and crossing my fingers that some place will hire me, and bumming around the house cursing men down to the day they were born (recently was in a relationship with somebody, but then things crumbled because he couldn’t juggle myself and academics, the twit - but more on that later, when I feel more in a “Hi, I’m feeling emo, I’m going to rant about the break-up” mood. Don’t get your hopes up, though…).
So, I’m back, kids! Cover your eyes.