All 4 entries tagged Asian Diaries

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December 22, 2005

Time to Sort Out My Life (Part 1)

So it has kinda hit me that a) I’m in my final year and b) I need to start thinking about jobs and c) I don’t want to go home home.

Being at home home for the last two weeks has made me realise I don’t belong here. Either that or I’m not ready to come home just yet. As much as I love seeing family and friends and eating amazing food and buying lots of cheap stuff I feel I have unfinished business to attend to first.

So anyway I have written (well okay typed) a list of possible options which I could do in order to stay in the country. Any other ideas (be it stupid or actually useful) are encouraged and welcome.

Winnie’s List on How to Stay in the Country:

1. Get a job. Obviously the most direct and logical solution to problem. However whilst it’s all fine and dandy, people do not seem to realise that a) it is very very difficult for foreign people to get jobs especially because of work permit issues, b) the foreign people who do get decent jobs here are basically brilliant and wonderfully clever, which, alas, I am not, and c) (somewhat related to previous two points) I need to actually GET the job first as in pass an interview (that would be a miracle).

2. Get any shitty job. Pub job. Sex job? But coming to think of it I don’t even think that will work because will need work permit and hence same problems as in 1. So maybe scrap this point.

3. Live illegally by living in [insert nice person’s name here]’s wine cellar/basement. Now I would probably have said Niamh’s wine cellar/basement (the light of my life…choke choke cough cough) but the thought of Niamh owning a house at this point in time, which actually includes a wine cellar/basement is actually inconceivable to one's right mind at the moment. Considering that I make fun of her being a hippy who lives in a trailer. And trailers do not have wine cellar/basements And the fact that I said I’ll build her a house so she doesn’t have to live under a bridge. Could get any shitty job as in point 2 but if I’m planning to become a millionaire by the time I’m 35 this isn’t really the best way to start.

4. Take full advantage of the ‘Science and Engineering Graduate Scheme’. Just came across this and it totally made my day. Note to self must find out more about it. However it’s only for a year. And the last time I checked a year does not equal to FOREVER. But I guess I can buy some time with this little baby.

5. Actually graduate so can take advantage of above points. No wait, actually DON’T graduate! Aha!

6. DON'T graduate i.e. fail year or find excuse to repeat year and/or degree. Solution however is, once again, short term.

7. Do another degree. In what though? Hippy studies?! And where? And I’ll be old!

8. Obtain a British passport illegally. Any ideas how to go about this?

9. Fake death.

10. Become asylum seeker. (Thanks Loser for reminding me)

11. (Level of desperate-ness increases exponentially with this and forthcoming points) Find rich man to marry (sex and children NOT part of deal, will live in separate housing and have separate lives), then eventually divorce and run away with all his money. If can’t find rich then any decent man. If can’t find any decent man then any man. If can’t find any man then, well, er…..AHA! Civil partnerships have been implemented as of 19th December….

12. Find rich woman to marry (sex and children NOT part of deal, will live in separate housing and have separate lives), then eventually divorce and run away with all her money. If can’t find rich then any decent woman. If can’t find any decent woman then any…..oh wait. Actually need first to find out if being in said civil partnership enables me to stay in country, because if not scrap this point.

13. (ABSOLUTE last last last last last last last last last last last last last last last resort) Consider being mail order bride. I actually cringed when I typed this. Oh. Dear.

Okay stupid ideas and pointless rambling over. I’m off to go swimming in the moonlight.

September 20, 2005

I [Heart] Karaoke

Karaoke is awesome.

The story beings like this: I never, NEVER was a fan. In fact one might say I somewhat despised it. I could think of nothing worse than going up and singing a song (badly) while everyone looks at you and ducks for cover. You know how it goes. You’re in a Karaoke lounge (or anywhere involving karaoke) and someone is trying to sing Celine Dion’s My Heart Will Go On. And hits a bad note. As in reeeeallly really ridiculously badly. So bad your ears hurt and you cringe. You may even squeeze a few tears out. Well, exactly. Imagine if you’re the one causing the suffering. Would you really want to do that? Would you? Would you really want to cause that much extra suffering in the world? I think not.

But now, as I’m older and a little bit wiser, a bit better looking (with nicer hair), I have had a change of heart. After been dragged along to Karaoke with mates, I decided okay, the only time I’ll sing is when I’m drunk so that even if it’s bad, who the fuck cares because I’ll be drunk drunk drunk. Sort of the same line of thinking with me and dancing. So then I sat and I got drunk. And then I sang. Then I realised it got to be well fun. Where else can you sing Kylie’s Love at First Sight jumping and prancing about? Or Spice Girls’ Who Do You Think You Are? My favourites. It’s well fun.

Then as the Karaoke-attending sessions increased exponentially, my paranoia about what other people thought of my singing decreased slightly. But the beauty of it was that I wasn’t really standing and singing in front of loads of people. Some genius built a place whereby you get your OWN room. That’s right. So you have your own TV, and mics and you can sing whatever the hell you want in front of your mates. And a fancy smancy system where you can select via remote control your songs by artist, genre, title, top 20 or language. And personally I would rather sing like a dickhead in front of my friends as opposed to random strangers.

As I write about my newfound love for karaoke I have mental images of stupid Niamh prancing around singing Blondie or Alanis or whatever rubbish she likes. And flicking through the list of songs and then screeching OH MY GOD I LOVE THIS SONG!!!!! And then playing it 932094839 times for her to sing and for EVERYONE ELSE TO SUFFER. And Holly shutting her ears with her hands with a constipated look combining utter embarrassment, suffering and non-physical pain, then trying to bury her head into the couch ostrich-style the minute we sing Toxic by Britney. And Beerface singing like she’s the next American Idol. And then everyone singing “Theeeese Words are my own…………..I love you I love you I love you I love youuuuuuuuu”.

But really, it is actually, honestly great fun. I was never much of a singer, but with karaoke it’s just…great fun. I now know the next time any foreigner steps foot on my turf, I’m going to take them to a karaoke lounge. And even if you don’t sing, you can sit and drink and watch your friends either make twats of themselves or momentarily believe they have the potential to be the next Whitney Houston. And anyway, even if you suck, practice makes perfect innit.

Think about it, where else can you:

– Get 10-minute long Chinese songs, which, of course you have no idea how to sing it so you just watch the video (they actually all sound the bloody same);

– Sing Spice Girls or Britney without feeling ashamed;

– Sing in front of your friends only and not strangers;

– Pretend you’re singing with the whole group but really, you’ve turned the mic off;

– Be Gloria Gaynor for the moment singing “I Will Survive” (body language and hand actions included);

– Make up lyrics to songs on the spot, for example: “My loneliness is killing me, I must confess, I’m so horny (so horny), When I’m not with you I sleep around give me a sign…..hit my booty one more time”;

– Watch cheesy karaoke music videos;

– Have Eminem songs (no joke, try and rap a whole Eminem song, it’s classic. The best I could do was “Just lose it RAHRAHRAHRAHRAH, just lose it RAHRAHRAHRAHRAH”);

– Get Crazy Frog karaoke (no joke, bloody easy, just follow the words Ding ding dingdingdingdingding beep beep or whatever shit it is)?

Only. In. Asia.

This is the last entry of the Asian Diaries Summer 2005. No more karaoke for another 3 months. Goodbye forever.

August 18, 2005

One Year On…

For a while I've been wanting to write about my rather rollercoaster-like turbulent (to say the least) academic year. There have been fantastically high times, ridiculously unbelieveably low times and everyday has been a challenge in so many different ways. I am such a different person now in so many ways. Only now that the chaos is over (for now) and I'm safe at home can I reflect on what has happened over the last year.

I was actually contemplating writing about my entire life story for the year. Then I thought, well everyone says I'm always so pessimistic and negative blahblahblahblah. So you know what? Forget all that "bad" stuff. What I've done here is tried to summarise up all my high points of the year into words, sentences and phrases. I've done it in some sort of chronological order, and I know I've missed out on lots more which also got me to realise that even when I was feeling the downest of downs there were still so many amazing, hilarious and great things that happened and picked me up, so many that I can't even remember them all to put it here and bore you all to death. DEATH I tell you.

This is for those who have been part of my life for the last year, espeically the "new" ones. I know it looks rather long, but "HAVE SOME PATIENCE THIS IS NOT ASIAN BOOT CAMP"

Part inspired by my drunked darling in Melbourne (thanks for doing one yourself and hence reminding me to do mine), I present to you, without further ado:

The Highs and Highs of Winnie

“Er…” (I thought it was most appropriate to start with this) • Laughing till I am ACTUALLY crying • “Arsenal and Eminem? I guess that means you and me will never be together” • Bathroom antics • Birds • I'm Batman and you're Robin LOSER! • Sunday nights in Bar Leam • KAKAKAKAKAKAKA • Keyboard banging (and lots of it) • Sheep Mary with dog as baby Jesus • “I’d dominate you into dominating me”• I’m going to BRICK you” • "You’re giving me a headache” • OMAG • “Have you got any Vaseline Winnie?” “You ask the same fucking question EVERYTIME you’re here and EVERYTIME I say NO I don’t so stop asking if I have any fucking Vaseline for goodness sakes” (Next time) “Have you got any Vaseline Winnie?” • Kelsey’s lock-ins • Screeching • “You really make me want to bang my head against a brick wall” • Soil vs. Arty Farty? • “Okay I’ll make out with you, but I’m not going to fuck you, got it?” • “You pulled the other guy too” “Er….no I didn’t!” “Er…yes you did.” (I still maintain I didn’t) • The Charmer

New Years with the “Bristler” • Joe. Stripping. Britney. Dance. Chairs. • More beer to cure hangover • Port and parma ham • Drunkard in the back of random truck…still don't remember? • Walking around aimlessly • Feeding the ducks • Burger King will always make me laugh • Hungover and braless in jogging bottoms at Birmingham International • Have some patience!!! This is not Asian boot camp!!

Hair straighteners • Nodding dog • “Oh, no” • The Stud • Goodbye (forever) • “She’s fat and ugly anyway” • “Good morning Winnieeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee” • Mail order brides • “The funniest girl I’ve ever met” • Tarsus man + Free food and whiskey • Nodding and pecking • Dawn French and Asian Saunders • "Come on then, let's go and pull!" • Cramped in the taxi boot on the way home from Brum

Valentines day BONUS • Half a bottle of Gin + Few vodkas = Awesome night • Pole dancing with drinking partner

The new laugh: HAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH! • Choking on hairballs • “What song is that?” “It’s Rage Against the Machine.” “Oh, I thought it was Three Blind Mice.” • Pasta bog (Winnie style) and garlic bread • Tied together with security tape • “Is it because I’m Asian innit” • “Not my cup of tea”

Bournemouth to meet the “in-laws” • “...and this is the Asian maid” •
“Oh I love your dog, she’s sooo sweet” “Yes Winnie, I’m sure she is but you can’t eat her for dinner”

Minibus ParTAY • Shit mix • Lost and drunk (AGAIN) in Lakeside • Beerface

Passport • Giving birth to fruit • Brain deterioration • The Asian GANGSTA • DRAGON! • Two double dates • Scar or fat roll? • B52’s • Man of the match • "Where's the nearest hot dog machine?"

Special brownies, "Can you overdose on them?" • Moo Moo • “Sooo…is it love?” • “Smell my neck! It’s not perfuuume, it’s ME! It’s my natural scent!” • Friends Season 5 • Tom foolery • Lab JACKET • Roast dinner for 8 • Roast dinner for 2 when still stoned

Asian surprise birthday • Dog for dinner • Scary Geisha • Moet and Chandon

I’m DANGEROUSLY IN LOVEEEEEE with you!! • Library “revision” • Library fines for talking • “My crazy gran hates you….but don’t worry my normal gran loves you”

“Hi babe how was work? Shhh I’m on a mission” • The Pocahontas Skirt • “It’s a race! I’m in a race!” • “YOU SHOULD HAVE BOUGHT A SQUIRREL” • DJ SuperFLY • Whose breasts are bigger? • Food “missions” in Claycroft • “We’re a trio now” • Jump into my bed and wake me up why don’t you • crycrycrycrycrycrycrycry • Stud Muppet

July 10, 2005


So last night I was dragged to this gay bar called Liquid (or LQ to those regulars). And when I say gay, do I actually mean GAY. GAYGAYGAYGAYGAYGAYGAY. I’ve been there once before last year. And then I remembered why I found it so bizarre. I have never ever been surrounded by so many gay men in me entire actual life. I almost actually felt like strapping my boobs up and stuffing my pants to be “one of the guys”, so I could fit in. It was actually unbelievable how many gay men there were.

The club was actually pretty sound, the music was some good dancy shit which I LOVE (since none of my friends over where you knobheads are really like that kinda thing… you hear that FRIENDS? Do you? Always only your stupid rock music and cheese.).

As the night progressed the place became more and more packed. Then it got REALLY packed, like literally there was a county of men. And then the best bit happened. A few of them started taking off their shirts. It’s actually quite amusing now that I think about it, you can’t really blame them, it was packed and sweaty and all that kinda sexy kinky talk. My mate was in heaven. I was just there for the articles. In all fairness, most of them had really nice bodies.

There were all shapes and forms of what we know as THE GAY MAN. We had super camp, uber camp, a little camp, camp camp, not-that-camp, I-thought-he-was-straight-camp, not-camp, too-camp, model-camp, ooh-nice-body-too-bad-you’re-gay-or-else-I-would’ve-jumped-you gay, gay-gay, too-gay, model-gay, not-gay-enough…..the list goes on.

And what about the lesbians you may ask? Well I was expecting butch dykey bristlers hovering around the place, but as the women were totally and completely outnumbered by a long long way, there weren’t many women at all. There were a few couples around (I think), they sorta just sat or stood together, not really acting “open” or couply. But the amusing thing was if you start chatting to one of the them, the other gives you the dirtiest look on the actual planet. Then of course after they find out you’re actually straight and you’re simply a fag-hag, or you’re gay but off the market, or you have cooties, their sneers and frowns turn into smiles and we’re all happy happy joy joy.

One other main thing I was reminded of was the lack of pulling. But then again, that applies to all types of clubs here. You don't really get people pulling in the middle of the dancefloor, one doesn't go out "on the pull" here. It's deffo an English thing isn't it. Pulling was a major culture shock for me. I remember my first ever pull when I came to England in my first year….hmmm yes he was rather fine. I thought I had my green card sorted out there and then.

Why am I telling you this? I don’t know really. Actually two reasons. Firstly, it made me realize how different the gay scene is over here. Secondly, it was just one of those things that got me thinking about my friends, about how I would have loved it if there were with me living up the experience. When I was at the club, whatever I thought in my head (for instance OH MY GOD that’s the gayest man I have ever seen in my entire life, or OH MY GOD how many men are there here? I want to hide in a corner and crycrycrycrycry) I would immediately wish my mates were here with me agreeing (or arguing) with me or just getting wasted or just…well….being themselves.

I wish I could combine home mates and uni mates, wish we could all hang out together because I’m selfish like that. One of the shitty things about being foreign I guess hey.

I guess what I’m trying to say is that to all those knobheads and dickmonkeys, you know who you are, I miss all of you. It’s Sunday today, we should all be in Bar Leam tonight. Even though I am 342897340923842934 miles away I’m still thinking of you. Start arranging where we will all be every Sunday night next year please, Kelseys perhaps? I hope you are all well and behaving.

P.S. Aren’t you impressed at how often I’m updating this thing? I’m impressed. So shut up and be impressed. Okay goodbye (forever).

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