Archive for May, 2008

What rejection does to your morale…

(The following is a demonstration, entirely in sound effects.)

Wheeee!

Tralalala..

Uh oh.

BOOOOOMM!

Pshshhhhhh.

Pfft.

Poof.

Crashed and burned, baby. Crashed. And. Burned.

And the funny thing is, I didn’t even want that job.

I just thought I’d get into the practice of sending out resumes. But then I thought, if I can’t even get a job I don’t even want — if I can’t even have the option to refuse a job I don’t want (but got) — then then then who’s to say I can get anything, anything at all?!

This isn’t my first ever rejected attempt, of course, and I was already expecting it. But still.

I think I might start to… uhmm.. sniff, sniff–

Waahh! WAAAAHHHH!!

(Here is Nadia, stomping her feet and trashing her room, throwing books onto the floor and screaming the world is unfair, THE WORLD IS UNFAAAAIIIIR. Where is the silver spoon now, wheeere?)

—–

Bah. I’ll be fine. I moped all day yesterday. You’d think it’d be out of my system by now.

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26 May, 2008 at 11:43 am 2 comments

All in the name of Wisdom.

Uuuggghhhhh.

Stupid, stupid wisdom teeth.

It’s true, then. It seems I am at that age where my biggest problem in life is not that I have no job, no school, no immediate future plans, no clue as to What to Do With My Life — no! All of that is secondary to the excruciating pain in one side of my mouth, and the pain doesn’t stay there, oh no, it invites itself to bloom to the entire right side of my face and all the way to the right side of my head.

(For those who haven’t been following the progress of my dental health (or lack of it), I had two wisdom teeth last year, and it seems the third has just gotten the memo and decided to arrive fashionably late.)

I’ve been spitting out mouthfuls of blood when I brush my teeth. It now even hurts to swallow. I have to smile only on one side of my face because the other hurts. I’ve been living on panadol, soup and mashed potatoes… and yesterday a plate of nachos which I couldn’t resist. Not a good idea, but the nachos were good.

I can totally understand why babies cry their lungs out when teething. But at least their teeth don’t have to compete for space, and my mouth is already over-crowded as it is. And they don’t know the joys of a burger anyway.

This sucks.

Whine, whine, whine. Pity, pity, pity me now.

So ironic that they’re called wisdom teeth, isn’t it? But as a particularly chatty dwarf told me in World of Warcraft, it wouldn’t make much of a difference if they’re called stupid teeth.

(Yes, I complain about my teeth to random dwarfs and elves.)

Pity, pity, pity me now.

But on to other news, since I’m here. Yes? Yes.

Contrary to popular belief, I haven’t been idle since I got back to Melbourne. What? You think because I have no job, no school, and a blinding tooth ache, I stay in bed all day?

Well… kinda. But I have been doing some job hunting, joo know. I sent out applications and have been waiting nervously ever since. There is also a media internship which I want to try for, because it seems kinda perfect.

This whole waiting-for-money-to-fall-in-my-lap thing is kinda harder than I thought. I can kinda understand if my mother is getting impatient with me, because I’m all the way over here spending her money on rent and bills and having no success in seeking work when I could be at home doing the same thing spending a third of the amount. I can kinda understand if she wants me to start a job just start something already just start, or come home. But I don’t want to just yet, you see. I’m not ready to give up Melbourne.

At the same time, I don’t want to stay and get a job making sandwiches. Even if that would pay better than an actual wroiter job in Malaysia. Hmm.

Oh well. I’ll know the outcome of my applications in a couple of weeks. In the meantime I’ll send out resumes to whoever that might be remotely interested. And so we wait.

—–

Being jobless and uniless has also given me a lot of time for my friends. They ask for help and I help in any way that I can. Usually it involves proofreading and editing essays. I am particularly proud of a certain flatmate (and by proxy, my editing skills) who has churned out all H1 essays this semester. With another friend, a certain fellow procrastinator, the best help I can offer is telling her to get started, and walking her to the computer lab.

Sometimes helping involves pretending to go in and out of a pub five times (for a photography major’s photography assignment) – before I realised the bartender was standing right there and staring at me suspiciously. I managed to stammer, “I.. was just passing by.. and this looked like a nice place.”

That particular assignment also involved me standing in dangerously close proximity to cat poop, and I accidentally dropped my juggling ball in it. And then of course I yelled EEWWWWW a hundred times, pointed at the dropped ball touching (touching!) the poop, stomped my feet, and waved my arms about, to demonstrate my displeasure with the situation.

The things you do, eh. She is so lucky she’s actually a pretty damn good photographer. If she didn’t come up with pictures like this…

… I might get mad, or something.

(Aren’t I a rawk star? Heeeee.)

Alright, alright, I admit it. This whole paragraph of this entry wasn’t about me helping my friends with their assignments. It was a rather narcissistic excuse to tell you I edit H1 essays and have rawkstar hair.

—–

And now I’m hungry. Food choices are quite limited when you have a blinding toothache. Shall I have soup, or soup? Hmmm. I guess I’ll go fix myself a cup of soup.

Y’all have a good day now. Toodles!

20 May, 2008 at 1:01 pm 4 comments

Lazy.

Here is a case of typical Laziness, cleverly disguised as “Writer’s Block”.

Here is Nadia, with brand new leather-bound journal, and favourite ball point black pen.

Here is Nadia, shackled for the longest time by assignments and deadlines and “Critical Thinking” and people generally telling her what to do.

Nadia has grand visions of her name on the cover of books, those books on shelves, those shelves in bookstores.

Here is Nadia doodling her own name over and over.

Nadia fancies herself as a Writer, although yet to be published beyond the comforts of her own blog.

Here is Nadia’s blog, not updated for weeks.

Nadia feels a trickling sensation creep down her spine. It feels a little like Dread. It feels a lot like Failure.

Here is Nadia staring off into space.

Stare at the journal. Empty.

Stare at the Word screen. Empty.

Nadia sighs, and goes back into the world of gnomes and trolls and kick-ass elves.

5 May, 2008 at 11:22 am 2 comments