A nice dose of reality.

Let’s just say this now. Fitness was once my friend – when I was young, effortlessly skinny and agile. Then we had a falling out at about the time I discovered staying in my bedroom, writing emo poetry (before emos were even invented) and drinking at those ghastly underage parties.

I then moved out of home and realised there was a whole world of food out there that my parents had shielded me from. I could have takeaway when ever I wanted. I could cook mythical things that my parents didn’t “believe” in. I got very comfortable in my lovely relationship and the kilos just came to me, the way a paperclip is drawn to a magnet (or the way hot chips and pasta are drawn to one’s thighs).

However, 2010 marks a new beginning. I have had a little talk with Fitness and we have decided to try again. We’ll take it slow and we hope to see where it leads. I have realised our fall out was all my fault and I have taken accountability. Fitness will probably be cruel to me at first (well I did neglect it for so long), but in time we’ll reach a new understanding.

There are things I am beginning to realise and accept about Fitness though:

You will never look good in special “work out” outfits before you ACTUALLY work out (duh)

I need to get fit. I have at least 5 extra kilograms sitting on my gut (and God knows where else), and as I want to get fit I realise I need to look the part.

However, I can’t just throw on a sports bra, lycra pants and a skin tight singlet! Are you crazy?! Only hot people can look good in that!

So I am starting in shorts that have a bit of the baggy, with a not as tight tee. It’s still not in my comfort zone, but I’m moving closer. I even have brand new sneakers – and they’re cool. I never thought I would look at sneakers and think they were cool, but mine are!

I realise that to look the part, I’m going to have to do some hard work. I’m going to have to look fat and out of control for a while. It’s just logic. It’s why I’m exercising, right?

There is one thing I am not a fan of. Tying my hair back. Oh god. Picture this. A slightly overweight, sweaty moon face with extra chin. It’s tragical. Hello? That’s why I have bangs and I style my hair around my face every day in a flattering way! There is no more vulnerable feeling than revealing that my stick-out straight Asian hair doesn’t make a cute pony tail, and my moonface is on display with no shield to protect your eyes!

But you know what? I’ll just have to get over it.

You’re going to make a fool of yourself before you get anywhere so just accept it

For example, I have never worked out in a gym. I can hear you gasping and sighing right now and frankly, I don’t believe you are being very supportive. Now lift your jaw off the ground and let me explain …

I’m scared. I am scared because I don’t know how to use the fancy equipment and no-one that doesn’t already go to the gym wants to go with me. I’ve got by in the past walking dogs for a living (and cleaning up their poop but that’s another story), playing team sports and swimming in my parents’ pool.

But now I fear it’s time to push myself. Humiliate myself in a spin class in front of members of my hubby’s football team. Sweat myself to a near coma state. It’s the only way I am going to combat this fear. It’s the only way I can learn anything and at least my hubby will be supportive because he has to be (pretty sure it was implied in the wedding vows).

I shall be locking myself in for Friday. There shall be no turning back. I might lose my dignity but I’ll still have my pride (that probably doesn’t make sense).

You NEED to find a way to feel obligated to exercise or you’ll never get around to it

I always tell myself, “Oh, I’ll start walking the dog every day, even running with her! I’ll eat really healthy…but I’ll start that Monday…”
Then work takes over and I lie on the couch feeling BLAH.

So what have I done? I’ve joined a social netball team. We’re all unfit and at least one of us has never played it before. It’s going to be smashing fun! Plus, there’s only 7 of us. And you need 7 on a court at a time. No reserves. No-one on the bench. Basically, if you don’t turn up each week you’re going to be in someone’s bad books. Now that is a guilt I can live without!

So, basically, the key to exercising is emotional blackmail!

I’m finding the flow on effect of joining this team to have been a great motivator. It makes me want to be fit enough to get through a whole game without dying. So then I train on a Monday with some other team members. It makes me realise how unfit I am so then I mention needing to learn how to go to the gym. I still don’t know if that is brave or stupid but it’s probably both.

Suddenly, I realise I have locked myself in for brutal exercise 3 times a week, plus the ability to combat my fear of gyms and workout outfits!

This post is self deprecating and will give those fit gym bunnies something to giggle about, but I wrote it because a) it’s something I’m going through right now, and b) because I am sick of reading about preachy mofos who think that because they’re about to run some gajillion mile marathon that they can dish out advice to those of us who have a bit of chub and can’t breathe after hitting the nightclub dancefloor.

I’m sh*t at being fit, but I’m trying and I hope that this is a little more realistic and less intimidating! I’m not an expert so I thought I’d share my unqualified, HUMAN opinions on what is going to get me through this year feeling better about myself

Adoptionally Challenged: Doppel…what? And other Asian dilemmas.

So…I guess as most facebookers would know right now…this week has been Doppelganger week. Yep, everyone was supposed to swap out their own profile pics for an image of a celebrity everyone thinks they look like.

I of course, refused. Why? Because it’s a crappy idea thought up by one person that somehow turned viral and infected the world until everyone became better looking/funnier versions of themselves for a week?

Nope.

Because I’m an Asian human living in a White human world. I mean, the Western World. And in these parts, there aren’t that many celebrities to look up to and wish we looked like.

Sure, Lucy Liu is hot:

Image found via google image search.

But um…I’ve been compared to Sandra Oh and each token Asian girl that gets added to the Hi 5 children’s entertainers group when someone gets too old/has a baby etc.

I’ve also once been compared to Jackie Chan. Yes. Jackie Chan. By a very stoned teenager. When I was 16 and actually hot (ish).

I seriously need me some famous Asian role models who actually look like me! None of that, “you all look the same” crap, please!!!

On another note, I dyed my hair black recently. Yep. An Asian who dyed their hair black. Not exactly groundbreaking, you say?

Well, it’s been quite interesting. People keep looking at me funny and asking, “Have you done something with your hair? I can’t figure it out…”

Can I just say that before I coloured it black (I won’t say “back” because my natural hair isn’t the shade of black I coloured it and I refuse to think it all looks the same), my fringe was red? And I had blonde streaks??

You’d think someone would notice. But no. Asians are meant to have black hair, according to the rules of …something… and I really screwed up the system.

It’s been quite weird (and amusing if I’m honest). Also, on a serious(ish) note, I have actually realised that looking more… Asian on account of my new (yes – new) hair colour isn’t that bad. I swear I’ve had more male attention since I went and bought that cheapo hair dye at the supermarket. Weird.

Of course, I’m a happily married woman (with a mojito in her system) and I must say my hubby seems to like it too. What’s the deal?

Anyhoos, because of the aforementioned mojito, I shall sign off now before I humiliate myself in that saddo, alone on a Friday night way.

Can I just say to my recent commenters that I appreciate you all? I haven’t really had time to blog anything of quality – see above for proof – lately and I only seem to do it on weekends, when everyone is drinking mojitos WITH FRIENDS and not checking their googlereaders…

Thankyou! I love youse…that could be the booze talking, but let’s pretend I’ll call you in the morning…

Dear Random Postman,

Yes, you little orange man on your little orange bike.

I know you have it in your head that I pulled out in front of you at a roundabout and didn’t look where I was going and could have killed you blah blah. However, I would like to let you know that I have a 100% clear conscience when I tell you that I was watching each exit of the roundabout and waiting for a clearance of traffic before I used it. You see, I am an obsessional round-a-bout user. I insist on always indicating correctly and watching for whoever’s right of way it may be. In fact, I secretly am probably a bit of a crazy because I get great pleasure out of knowing all about using a round-a-bout when so many people lack this super power.

You, my friend decided to speed out onto the roundabout without giving way to any traffic (me) and appeared to have come out of nowhere – considering I had just looked at “your” exit a split second before deeming it safe to enter the roundabout.  There is no way I wasn’t looking properly as you were dressed in BRIGHT ORANGE and I would not have missed you. You thought that you could just zip on by without stopping for ME and you obviously ignored my indicator and the fact that I was on the move.

I really love how you stalked followed me into the carpark where I work. I love how you made me wind down my window while you yelled at me with an anger that made me shake. I wonder how much time you lost on your mail route? Good luck with that.

“You could have killed me! You didn’t look! You didn’t look! You could have killed me!!!”

I knew all along that I had done nothing wrong and that it was your good luck that I actually saw you hurtle out of nowhere at the last second (thanks to that bright orange I just mentioned). You ranted and raved at me. I tried to be gracious at first. I said in a respectful tone, “I’m sorry but I did look and you came out of nowhere. I’m glad you’re OK.”

Then I just gave up while you kept on getting spittle all over the carpark and looked like you would have punched me in the face or followed me into my office.

What was I supposed to say? Seriously. You didn’t want me to respond. You just wanted to vent whatever else was p*ssing you off today – just dump your bad energy on me. Nice.

I hope that you have a wonderful weekend off. There are probably people who want to kill you for real on account of your sour and over the top demeanour so you should rest up real good and get ready for Monday. I’m sure there’ll be many more cars that you will be getting in the way of.

Karma’s a b*tch. I hope you get some.

Love Kez.

Bangkok Recap: Day 3

OK, so I went on a holiday once, waaaaaay back in December 2009 and I’m STILL trying to finish writing about it…

Day 3 of my holiday in Bangkok, Thailand was fairly low key. So I took advantage of this and decided to have a mani/pedi at this beauty salon thingy that was situated at the bottom of the apartment building we were staying at.

Now, if you know me reaaalllly well, I am a girly girl at heart, but I fail at it somewhat. You’ll never hear me say that I am late for my nail appointment or that I’m booked in for a spa day…

The last time I had my nails done professionally was…well, the last time I was in Phuket, Thailand in 2007 on my honeymoon – while the hubby sat next to me having a foot massage which turned into a calf massage, which turned into an upper leg massage, at which point he looked at me in panic and gestured “NOOO! NOOOO FURTHER!!” at the very friendly Thai lady…

I digress. So anyway, Day 3 of my holiday signified the second time in my whole life that someone did my nails professionally.

There’s something a little embarrassing about having a complete stranger (who speaks a different language) laughing and talking to the other ladies in the salon while gesturing at your feet…you never know what they are saying…

I had the remnants of a nasty blister left over from my uni graduation ceremony that had only been a few days earlier (don’t worry my shoes were totally hot so it was worth it), and the way she stared at it made me feel like a leper! She’d get this big look of concentration and determination and then she’d scrub and pick at it for a while…nice.

At the end of it, my nails looked amazing. I had neglected all beauty aspects for weeks due to crazy schedules and so finally being able to slow down and have something nice done for me was great! No more jaggedy edged fingernails! No more dirt under the fingernails! Yeah, I’m sounding like such a beautiful womanly creature right now…

What else did I do on day 3? I went shopping again. I bought myself the coolest sandals but they cost $3 Aussie and you kind of get what you pay for…they broke on Christmas day. Which was 2 days after we arrived home. I suppose I got my money’s worth per wear

I have written in my notes that I got ’stared at’ a lot. I don’t know for sure what I was referring to that day in particular but I do have this dilemma when I go somewhere like Thailand. The Thai people stare at me because I’m busy hanging out with the phalung (their word for White People). And the White tourists stare at me for the same reason. Not to mention, the White men can make certain assumptions and look me up and down in that rotten, sleazy way that makes you feel no better than a $2 hooker. I shudder even thinking about it.
Oh and I’ve got dirty looks from the white men’s white wives (say that ten times fast). I just love stereotypes about the sex trade over there…

*sigh*

No pictures from day 3 I’m afraid. I must have given my camera a rest…

They’re blue, da ba dee da ba da…

If no-one knows the song I’m referring to in the post title, don’t tell me. It will break my 90s tweenie heart.

Disclaimer: Spoilers may be unintentionally revealed ahead because I am a bumbling fool. Read on at your own risk. Although, everyone in the whole frickin’ world has probably seen this movie already so carry on…

OK, so I saw Avatar today. Reluctantly and with some suspicion, due to the fact that the movie has been really hyped up and everybody’s talking about it. Which puts a rebellious kid like me off. Yep, I’m the kind of person who likes stuff before everyone else thought it was cool, and doesn’t give something a try until everyone’s stopped talking about it.
Makes me sound like one of those people, but I honestly just like to be able to make my own mind up and like something not because it’s the latest greatest thing, but because I truly am interested and like it genuinely.

I thought that 3 hours in the cinema looking at blue people (I asked a friend on facebook if they were just fancy smurfs and was treated with great disdain – these Avatar fans are touchy!) while trying not to fall asleep.

The only thing that got me to the cinema would have to have been the possibility of seeing Sam Worthington. Now that’s some eye candy of the Kez kind (sorry Hubby but don’t pretend you haven’t checked out hot babes in movies before)!

So…

It goes without saying that the special effects (or FX as the technologically clued in kids say) were AH-MAZ-ING. And the story line wasn’t half bad either. Was quite impressed with the whole 3D thing, also. It was my first 3D movie ever. Awwwww.
Yep. I admit it. I liked the movie and I wasn’t bored.

There. Are ya happy?

I realised that I spent a lot of time checking out the Na’vi (that’s the blue people) species and I am disturbed at how much time I spent thinking about how their skin looked like it felt rubbery. I also kept wondering how they were SO skinny. I kept trying to decide if Sam Worthington’s Na’vi avatar was hot or not. I even kind of curiously checked out his girlfriend’s boobies. I mean, she was wearing these little flimsy sheath things over them…

Which of course made me feel so weird and wrong for even thinking that about a computer generated fantasy image…I mean, I know there’s a whole community for that on the internets but it isn’t really my scene…

Awwwkwwwaarrrd.

I guess the thing is, Mr James Cameron really knew how to give those characters life. You actually got sucked in and started believing in them. Props to you, Mr Cameron. Because I am the woman who has to watch realistic stuff on telly and pick apart anything that isn’t right.

Well, except for romantic comedies. Let’s face it – I usually view those with a bottle glass of wine quietly sorting itself through my liver…

I kind of had Fern Gully flashbacks when the big dozers (or whatever they were – hubby will kill me if I have it wrong) started bashing around in the forest. Anyone remember Fern Gully? Never mind…

In the end I was glad I watched it, even though I fear the great storyline will be ignored because everyone’s too busy adjusting their 3D glasses and going “Oooh, aaaah” at all the computer generated effects!

So, what is the point of my post? I don’t know. I guess you could call it a half arsed review of an already overly reviewed movie.

You’re welcome.

Bird poop.

Yeah, you know it. This post is going to be HIGH BROW. I almost accidentally typed “Hugh brow”, but that’s just silly.

So of course, I indulged in the silliness and googled “Hugh Brow” to see if anyone actually existed with that name and …well, I didn’t find much. Just a document I couldn’t open about some guy called Hugh Brow who died in a “logging accident”.

So…

Yesterday I got pooped on by a bird. I don’t know what kind of bird, because I was INSIDE MY CAR at the time, but evidence of its existence was a brown colour. BROWN. On my arm. Which was INSIDE my car. I really don’t know how these birds figure out the exact angle they need to be shooting the poos. But really, it was spot on.

Some people say it’s good luck to be pooped on by a bird. I never used to agree, but now I realise that sometimes it’s just good luck that it wasn’t a larger bird that had just consumed a meal larger than the meal consumed by the smaller bird that just pooped on you. Did you get that?
For example, a seagull that just ate someone’s chips on the beach is a better poop receival option than a pelican that just stole and ate someone’s newborn child or small, fluffy dog (I saw this happen once – the dog lived – hooray).

Once I was on my way to make a very important presentation for a university assessment and a seagull got me. Square in the middle of my head. Like right on the crown. Perfect aim. All centred and perfectly splattered with an eery symmetry.
And what mark did I get on this presentation? An HD of course. That’s a High Distinction. Ooh, yeah.

Speaking of pelicans…which I was, about two paragraphs ago. Once my friend witnessed a small black car being bombed by a pelican. Can you imagine?? Now she’s paranoid that it will happen to her. I told her that it probably will. I’m such a good friend.

I even sent her this link. Click on it for awesomeness. She probably had nightmares for weeks. Although we did agree that her karma was probably going to get worse because it’s a flash game that allows you to Be the Pelican and poop on cars a lot. It’s simple life rules. You poop on lots of people. They’ll poop on you one day.

And with that insightful wisdom, I shall leave you.

Spam-Wow!

Substantially, the article is really the best on this notable topic. I agree with your conclusions and will thirstfully look forward to your incoming updates. Saying thanks will not just be sufficient, for the extraordinary clarity in your writing. I will instantly grab your rss feed to stay abreast of any updates. Genuine work and much success in your business efforts!

Yep. I got that spam comment just recently. What did I deserve to receive such high accolades from a spammer? And how did I recognise that this was spam?

Well, apparently, posting a photo of your cute new puppy and then rambling on incoherently about the crazy unhinged love you have for that puppy has something to do with “business efforts”. I’m beginning to smell a rat!
If by business efforts, they mean my efforts at cleaning up my puppy’s business each day for the first week as I tried to somehow get her toilet trained, then right on!

I mean, it’s really hard to not be flattered when someone is “thirstfully” looking forward to my incoming updates. No-one has ever thirstfully looked forward to anything I’ve done in my life, besides bring them a glass of water or lemonade on a hot day.

Ha! I caught the spammer out! Clarity in my writing? Bollocks!

Amusing? The fact that there are the words “grab” and the word “abreast” in the same sentence.

I must be onto a winning formula if this obviously academically worthy spammer thinks so.

So here is another photo of my puppy:

Miss Puppy pants.

Take that!

One of those annoying “The year in review” posts that everyone always does.

So what did 2009 hold for me?

January:

I saw the year 2009 in by sitting on my couch, by myself. I had a bottle of wine, some really bad junk food and a massive bunch of chick flicks. Yep, I was alone. Bridget Jones alone. The hubby was away at work and to be honest, none of the plans for the evening that were proposed to me really took my fancy. As sad as my NYE might sound, it was actually really nice! I avoided the fireworks and the bad televised countdowns and everything was AOK! I had some time to reflect on the year that had been.

February:

At this point, it fast became a reality that my hubby was out of work and the economic crisis really hit home. We learnt a lot about ourselves during that time. How strong we are as individuals, as well as a couple. We learnt that if you really have to “make do”, you really can. From this point onwards, I really discovered who is there for you in tough times and who isn’t. It was a time of clarification. I really learnt about what it’s like to struggle (hearing about it and experiencing it are two very different things) and I will never forget it. It’s made me a more compassionate person.

I may have also posted tipsy for the first time…

March:

My quarter life crisis was way off the scales this month for some reason. It might have been something to do with my impending 25th birthday, the fact that the hubby and I felt too old to be attending 21st birthday parties where the guests dressed in their school uniforms (not sexy ones – their actual school uniforms that their mums probably ironed for them before they left the house).

It could have also had something to do with the fact that this month I became a godmother. Now, I can handle being called “Mrs” or “Ma’am”, but GODMOTHER?! Of course I was very honoured to earn the title, but it was definitely a shock to the system!

April:

I cried on my 25th birthday. But not for the obvious, “I’m getting old” reasons. It was the worst birthday of my life so far (obviously I’ve led a great life so I apologise to those who have had much worse birthday experiences). Luckily the year that has followed thus far has been amazing. The bad things taught me about appreciating the good things, and the good things were f*ckin’ awesome!

May:

I found my first grey hair and I was most unimpressed. I dyed over that sucker and it hasn’t been seen since. Good riddance.

I was also suffering from an inordinate amount of study. I coined the phrase Boulder of Study…somehow it never caught on…

I also attended a Pussycat Dolls concert (while feeling so sick from the flu), where the highlight was Gaga. Oh, how I love me some crazy, unhinged, slightly genius Gaga.

June:

My beautiful family dog Pepper passed away this month. His passing had a profound effect on my family and it was a sad time. My parents were overseas at the time so it fell upon my brother and I to make the decision to let him go. I swear I still feel his presence on my parents’ property sometimes.

Are you sick of this post yet? Hang in there! I have six more months of self indulgent reflections to get through…

July:

My hubby decided this was the month that I would start cutting his hair – for free! The cheek of it! We were still feeling the pinch financially and it seemed like a good idea at the time…as all bad ideas do…

That was also the month that we tried to eat really Too Good to be True cheap noodles, but they tasted like spam covered in soy sauce. Budget eating should never get that bad. Trust me.

Oh and I took to attempting to make my own jewellery. I attended one very fruitful class and have never been back. Sticking power? What’s that?

But never mind…this was the month the hubby got an awesome job in his field again! Take that, recession!! No more spam noodles and dodgey hair cutting!!

August:

I am not 100% sure but this month may have been really dull and boring.

September:

We got our very own, brand spanking new couch. I still look at it with love in my eyes and a song in my heart. That piece of furniture has filled a space in my life living room that I thought would always have a certain emptiness.

October:

All I remember of October is more of that pesky Boulder of Study. I was inundated. It was a hellish, hellish nightmare. It was only made slightly sweeter by the encouraging words of my lecturers, weekend bottles of wine and a frantic trip to Tasmania where we stayed in what later turned out to be a haunted ex-brothel…lovely.

November:

My final university exams. Need I say more?

December:

Oh, how action packed it has been! I graduated from university! Finally. We went on a holiday to Thailand. We traded our car in for a newer one. We got a gorgeous puppy.

Somehow we’ve managed to fit Christmas in there somewhere…

Anyway, thanks for reading. I would have given up back in May. You’ve done really well to make it this far. Or at least, you’re a very clever scanner.

I want to wish all my readers a happy new year and I hope that you enjoy 2010!

Bangkok recap: Day 2

Today was the day that I realised how sucky I am at being a girl. Because girls are supposed to go shopping when in faraway places, spending more than they can afford on crap they’ll never wear.

I went shopping with my sisters in law and my mother in law and came back with NOTHING for myself!!! We spent a great deal of time at the Platinum Fashion Mall in Bangkok, where I spent a lot of time feeling overwhelmed and disoriented!

Platinum Fashion Mall - Image found via Google Image search.

It’s basically like a giant shopping centre, but with many market style shops inside. I couldn’t believe my eyes when I saw how cheap a lot of the clothes were! I won’t go into a massive tutorial about converting baht to the Aussie dollar, but you get about 30 baht per dollar there and that makes for a great holiday!!

I was determined to only buy things that I would regularly use or wear, when back at home. This narrowed my shopping scope considerably! I saw a lot of “maybes” like some sandals and a few tops and dresses, but I think I was just happy spending my time taking in the feel of the place. To be honest, I realised while I was on holiday that I must be in a really good place, life wise because I didn’t want for anything. I felt complete and adding what were really probably some very awesome shoes and clothes just didn’t feel so necessary. Again, such a girl fail!

That evening the family went out for Thai food in a large shopping complex.

Central World Shopping Complex

There were restaurants on every floor, from various ethnicities. We chose to eat Thai because we were in Thailand and felt it was the most authentic thing we could do. In fact, we ate Thai food for most of the holiday, with the occasional bit of KFC (which was still an experience in itself with Asian inspired modifications to the menu – not to mention the hubby’s horror at finding broccoli in his chicken burger).

Anyhoo…

We ate here:

We were asked if it would be ok to be seated out the back. We didn’t expect to see a balcony with lush greenery, wooden outdoor furniture and a fantastic view of the city streets! It was like a little sanctuary and we were happier than if we would have eaten inside!

Sorry for the bad photography!

I loved my dessert…mango and sticky rice. What an amazing Thai delicacy!!

Mango and sticky rice: Image found via Google image search.

After dinner we headed to the most breathtaking place EVER. To call the place a Heineken beer garden seems like the understatement of the millenium! It was an open air bar at the top of the Central World shopping centre and it was ah-may-zing! You looked down on the whole city and the trendy mood lighting, laid back club vibe and amazing drinks menu just blew my socks off! This place was not for those who are scared of heights!! You got there by elevator…a see through, glass elevator that went up the side of the building giving you crazy views of the city of Bangkok!

Some more bad photography: The goodies behind the bar.

The view...oh the view!!!

Sure, the above photo does NOT do it justice. To be out in the open air, at the top of a tower, on a barmy (balmy? who knows) evening, sipping on a very pink, icy cocktail is just out of this world!

This day was definitely a highlight of the holiday and I fell into bed that night at a very respectable midnight, feeling quite pleased.

Bangkok recap: Day 1

Day 1 of our travels to Thailand involved a budget airline (of the feline kind) flight from Perth to Singapore, then from Singapore to Bangkok. Of course it was one of those late night horror type deals where you end up being awake for over 24 hours, feeling like death!

I find flying such a fascinating procedure. There’s the debate on how early to get to the airport. There’s the last minute packing (let’s not kid ourselves). There’s the uncomfortable seats on the plane. The nerves that come with security scanning.

I may or may not have forgotten about a bloody big shampoo bottle that was in my hand luggage…left there from a weekend roadtrip a while back…oops. The lady eyed me suspiciously, searched my whole bag with my blessing, scanned the bag again and then asked me what the bottle of shampoo was.
“What is this?!” she barked.
Uh, duh. Shampoo! Like it says on the container! Besides, if it wasn’t would I really tell anyone otherwise??

I found it amusing when the hubby got frisked at the same security check point. Mostly because I was glad it wasn’t me. Usually I seem to be the suspicious looking one. Racial profiling anyone? Also, who hasn’t seen Border Security?? Damn Asians!

The first flight was uncomfortable and the four and a half hours felt like forever. My bladder was going to burst – damn window seats – because the guy on the aisle wouldn’t ever wake up…which is fair I suppose, seeing as it was the middle of the night! As I waited an eternity for a vacant loo, I was talked to by a Chinese girl. She asked if I was going on holiday. I said yes. She asked where I’m from and I couldn’t be bothered doing the whole “Australia – what’s it to you?” routine because I knew she wouldn’t get it. I did my “I’m adopted from South Korea but have grown up in Australia” speech and she asked if I was headed to South Korea to see my family for Christmas. I found great pleasure in telling her my husband and I were headed to Thailand to see his brother. Especially when she saw how white he is and couldn’t figure it out! Surely the Asian one should be visiting people in Asian countries, no?

Did I mention the obligatory screaming toddler? I was very compassionate (although secretly grumpy as all hell). I thought that perhaps the baby was scared of taking off and landing, as sometimes the air pressure can play havoc on a person’s eardrums. Only thing is, he sounded like the cat in this video and I don’t think he EVER took a breath…yep…4 hours of it…

In the Singapore airport, I was greeted at customs by an officer in Korean. I am not Korean. My passport is Australian. However, the little spot where your birthplace is included on the front page gives the game up unfortunately. I was exhausted and after the guy said some gibberish to me, I tuned out. The hubby politely said, “She doesn’t speak Korean. Only English.”
The man replied, “Oh, she real Aussie. I tell by her accent!”
He then told us how he’d greeted a woman with a Filipino passport in Spanish and she hadn’t known what he was saying…apparently she was deported…
I just smiled and nodded and laughed in the appropriate places because I really wanted to make it to Thailand!!! Messing with a customs officer really wouldn’t be a smart tactical move.

The second flight from Singapore to Bangkok was nicer on account of its short length. However, there was a particularly annoying passenger sitting directly behind me who thought it was acceptable to put her feet up on MY arm rest. Her manky feet, with the callouses and the dirt. So I couldn’t put my arm down without seeing her disgusting toenails staring at me. On the upside, I was reminded that I should really get a pedicure when I arrived in Thailand…

Once we were at Bangkok airport (which actually has a really long hard to spell Thai name), we realised we didn’t know the exact address we were staying at as we were meeting up with the hubby’s parents anyway, before finding our accommodation. Our arrival/migration cards needed an address and so we left it blank with the intention of telling the passport control people at customs the situation. The hubby was barked at as he tried to explain.
“WHERE YOU GOING IN THAILAND?!!!!”
“Um…Bangkok…”
“THEN WRITE THAT DOWN!!! UGH!”
Someone hadn’t had their happy pills that day…if we had known it was that easy…

I can safely say that I fell into bed feeling very exhausted that evening. It was a countdown to “Acceptable going to bed time for a person in their mid twenties”. I deemed 8pm such a time, after talking myself out of 6:30pm. I mean, I’m one old nanna at the best of times, but I really had to make an effort…being a young Aussie on a trip to Thailand and all…I’ve got a rep to maintain!!