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Tiny update.

G’day, mateys.

Since my last whiny post I have eaten lots of chocolate (big smiles), discovered that my pair of Black Sexy Jeans are a bit looser around the waist (bigger smiles), and I also went to uni to confirm my attendance at the graduation ceremony this Saturday. So, am not whiny anymore, but happy and relatively skinny.


I don’t actually have time to be lounging around and blogging, so I’ll do this entry in point form, kay?

I’m graduating this Saturday!


My mom, stepdad and Midget are coming to Melburn tomorrow!



I think that’s all the big news I have. I can’t think of anything else. How bout some small news?

I had a good good steak meal yesterday. It was a massive piece of cow, with pepper sauce, and home-made potato wedges, and salad. Mmm.

A certain photography major has been taking portraits of me in varying light settings. It is a bit weird looking back at the photos because it’s like, WHOA man, who is that rawkstar in those amazing black-and-white pictures of varying light settings?

‘Tis me, teehehehehe.

Did I tell you… I’m graduating on Saturday?!!


Also, I had a phone interview last week with a toy company. I will hear back this week and if all goes well I can call myself a Game Consultant. Teehehehee. Basically that means showing people how to play games and getting paid for it, teehehehe.

Why am I teeheeing so much. Maybe a chocolate overload.

Uhmm that’s all now I have to go, kthxbye.


6 August, 2008 at 11:32 am 4 comments


I’ve been easily agitated and generally whiny lately.

A game of Guitar Hero got me in a rage.. I almost had the fits because I couldn’t hit the notes on Hard. Somehow, those annoying colourful circles and the instinctive ability to tilt the plastic thing resembling a guitar to get Star Power just got me in such a state, that my thought process looked something like this:

I can play guitar. Therefore I must be able to play Guitar Hero.

If I can’t play Guitar Hero, then I can’t play guitar.

If I can’t play guitar, then I can’t do anything.

If I can’t do anything, then my entire self worth as a human being amounts to nothing.



Ended up sulking for half an hour. Poor Girl Chris was trying so hard to lose, so that I would feel better, but that made it worse because getting your arse pitied is worse than getting your arse kicked.

Playing Tekken with Boy Chris wasn’t much fun either. Similar thought process, similar (il)logical sequence.

I can fight. Therefore I must be able to play a fighting simulation game.

If I can’t play a fighting simulation game, then I can’t fight.

If I can’t fight, I am weak and worthless.



Also sulked for half an hour.

I sulk a lot.


This all has something to do with the whole job thing, somehow, I think. In my last post I wrote about how I had to write about a certain brand for a job application at a certain marketing magazine. I got the interview, which I thought went well, but I didn’t get the job.

The only job I got was a soul-destroying sales job, which would involve walking up to random strangers at the mall, like an annoying bug, and trying to sell them credit cards. I turned it down, and have been fretting ever since, wondering if I’d just turned down the only job I could get.

I am getting so used to rejection that I’m expecting an “Unfortunately you weren’t right for this position” before even typing up my covering letters.

I am so tired at looking at classifieds, knowing I’m not qualified for half the jobs, and, in all probability, won’t get any of the half I am qualified for.

I am thankful for my supportive friends, who repeat “You’re awesome!” and “You can do it!” like a mantra, but so far all evidence point to the contrary.

I feel an overwhelming rush of WhatthefuckamIdoinghere? mixed with a tinge of Howdidmylifecometothis?

I had such big, big dreams.

And I’m wondering if I can ever get a better job than as an annoying bug selling credit cards.

Mostly I just feel so very, very alone.

29 July, 2008 at 2:26 pm 1 comment

A visitor!

Guess what guess what.

Syira’s coming to visit me tomorrow!!


Omg omg it will be so much fun. Thhhheriously. 🙂

Stay tuned for retarded cam-whoring pictures, stories about Shopping Way Too Much, and in all probability, getting sick of each other after a day. This should be interesting.


24 June, 2008 at 5:24 pm Leave a comment

What rejection does to your morale…

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



Uh oh.





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–


(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.

26 May, 2008 at 11:43 am 2 comments

All in the name of Wisdom.


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


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

And it’s all over.

Last Friday I got an email from Student Admin saying that my results have been amended, and the Failed subject, which was Withheld for the longest time, is now a Pass.

In case you have trouble following the chronology of the Drama That Is My Academic Career, here is what happened:

Last semester, which was supposed to be my final semester, I was bogged down by general slackerness and handed in that particular assignment late. I’d been granted Special Consideration on the grounds of my sleep disorder (which was an actual medical problem that semester, instead of something I bring up at convenient times), but I still couldn’t meet the extended deadline. Thus, the (rather snobbish) lecturer failed me automatically, without even reading it. This felt like an enormous failure (instead of the regular kind) because it was a huge essay of 4000 words, and I’d put considerable effort into it. When, two days into the new semester, the Withheld result was changed into a Fail, I enrolled in Novels and flew back to Melbourne in a hurry, with about a week left on my student visa.

A new student visa application (>$400 on credit card), a new medical examination for the said application (>$200 on savings account), and a new subject enrollment (>$2000, invoiced but yet to be paid) later, I get an email saying I actually passed, and that I’m back here, basically, for no reason.

All weekend I thought about continuing with the current subject anyway. It will be a better grade than a Pass, it’s a Creative Wroiting subject, I actually enjoy the class, and, five weeks into the semester, it feels like a waste to not complete it.

On Monday I got a call from the Arts Faculty, confirming the completion of my course, and my two majors in Media & Communications and Creative Wroiting.

When I asked if I could continue with Novels anyway, the lady said no. I’d already completed 300 points, and I’d have to apply to over-enroll, and there was really no reason for the Faculty to grant me that permission. I hung up the phone and involuntarily began to cry, which turned into continuous bouts of heaving sobs, after which I felt slightly better, but also rather silly.

I don’t know. I just get really upset when I’m told I can’t do something, even if I wanted to.

On Tuesday I went to see International Student Services, who were very understanding of my situation. Laura* congratulated me and asked how I felt about it all. I poured my heart out to her and it felt very much like a therapy session. (Not that I’ve ever been, but you know.)

I got advice on what to do, where to go from here. I would have to wait for the next graduation ceremonies in August, because I’d missed the ones in March. I would also have to apply for a new visa within 28 days, if I were to go ahead with my plan of Getting Some Work Experience while I’m here. I would have to request from Student Admin the “evidence of qualification”, the piece of paper saying I’m finished with uni. And technically, I would have to turn in my student card.

I thanked them for all their help, and walked out of the office in a sort of daze.

I’m done with uni.

I’ve finished.


It’s like an absurd tug-of-war, these past few months. No no, you fail, they said. Come back, go to class, do assignments. Hold on a second, on second thought, you pass, congratulations, hand in your student card, kthxbye.

And I’ve worn the label ‘Student’ for so long I hardly know what to do with myself now.

So I walked around uni, pretending to be one, for one more day. I walked through the hallways, past the rooms where I went to (or rather, more often, skipped) classes. Past the computer lab where I spent many midnights, frantically working on and printing my assignments. Through the buildings where I’d managed to become and remain anonymous for much of my uni life; on pathways and shortcuts where you can walk for hours without ever bumping into a familiar face. Into the main library with its endless rows of books and journals, where you can browse for hours without ever passing by the same shelf twice.

It took me months to feel like I have any business or right to be here at all.

And now that it’s all over, what have I got to show for it, really?

What have I learned, really?

Lots. And also, very little, depending which way you look at it.

My university student email will cease to exist tomorrow. I have mixed feelings about it all. There’s relief, of course, that it’s all over. There’s a bit of happiness, a bit of sadness. But mostly, I’m just terrified, I guess.

Meh. I’ll figure it out.

9 April, 2008 at 4:02 pm 4 comments

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