an explosion, sand dunes and church camps. or, my week, in summary.
on Friday, my friend Becky came over and i tried out my brand-new chocolate fondue set. i was supposed to melt the chocolate in the microwave first - remember the microwave in my kitchen, the one i wasn't sure was a microwave and didn't dare to try out in case it exploded? well, turns out it was a microwave, and turns out it did explode. well, kind of. while melting the chocolate there were sparks in the microwave, and smoke came out, and a funny smell. and the chocolate was burnt. so we continued melting the (burnt) chocolate in the fondue pot and continued dipping our strawberries into the (burnt) semi-melted chocolate.
on Saturday, i tried warming up my roast chicken and gravy in the oven. i'd never used the oven before, and wasn't sure how it worked. so i just popped the chicken in, and (i thought) turned the oven on. i smelled gas coming out. i heard gas coming out. so i assumed everything was working fine and left. 15 minutes later i went back to the kitchen, and found the whole place smelling of gas. i opened the oven door and discovered that the oven wasn't even hot. my chicken was still cold. and smelling of gas. so cold, gas-smelling chicken i had for lunch (beggars, we can't be choosers, aye?). and it took me the entire day to air the apartment out so the gas smell could disappear. later that evening Becky came over again, and took a look at the oven, and pointed out that i was supposed to use my lighter, and light some metal thing at the back of the oven, where the gas comes out from. so it works kind of like a hob. that is one old-fashioned oven, you guys. right out of the Flintstones.
on Sunday, i met up with a guy who's a friend of a friend of my mum's. my mum, she who match-makes from 4000 miles away, passed me his number, and gave strict orders to call him up. because he also studied architecture, and has been studying / working / living here for the past dozen years or so, and may be able to give me some insider job-hunting tips. turns out he's left architecture, having worked at a firm for a while and finding the profession "frustrating and a complete waste of time". way to spend 6 years at university and finding that out, mister. anyway we hung out for a bit and found out that we've been going to the same church for the past year and never bumped into each other. small world, this is. so we went to church together that evening (my first time in months!), and had tea and muffins after.
on Monday, i had therapy in the morning and found out more stuff about me that i didn't know about.
on Tuesday, i had a meeting with my tutors about my project. i didn't have time to prepare much, cos i wasn't around last week, and just could not get out of ben the entire day on Monday so i just printed some site photos, and crapped a lot. and it seems, my crap still gets me places, cos it went okay.
Tuesday night, i had the wierdest dream that i've had in a long time. i dreamt of my friend Marc. he was in the jungles in Borneo (where both him and i hail from), with an old, emaciated man with stringy grey hair who happened to be some kind of village elder. they climbed over stones covered with thick moss, and the old man pointed out an old railway track to him, "Remnants of our colonised past," he said. there was an old, abandoned railcar, and, underneath it, were a pile of corpse-looking bodies with pale, creamy-blue skin.
"Druggies," the old man said, pointing at them.
they watched, as a small girl with chubby pink cheeks and curly black hair crawled among the bodies. and then a baby, less than a year old, emerged too. the old man started getting excited, and angry.
"How can they allow their children to be exposed to this?" he exclaimed. he rushed forward, grabbed the baby, and started running back through the forest, Marc right behind him.
(seriously, you guys. i'm not making this up.)
so they ran over moss-covered stones, and they slid down sand-dunes. cos, you know, there are (apparently) sand-dunes in the rain-forest. two of the druggies from underneath the railcar were chasing after them, cos they realised what the old man and Marc had done. they had on bike-racer suits, one red, the other yellow, and got on their racing bikes, and were hot on Marc's and the old man's trails.
so then Marc and the old man (who, by the way, was dressed only in a soiled-looking loincloth) reached what appeared to be a city, and got in a Humvee. they sped along the streets, the two bikes still behind them. then they reached an army camp. got through the heavily-guarded gates with the baby, where the druggies were unable to follow.
they took the baby to some kind of hospital-looking place, with bed lining the walls. seemed to be some kind of drug-rehab place for kids. the people who worked there were my ex-studio mates, except this time they were doctors. and dressed in army cammies.
on Wednesday, i ran around trying to get together documents for my visa extension application. went to the bank to print out my account statements, then went to the Senate House to get my status letter, where i found that, although the library has a record of me having extended my studies til June next year, the rest of the university only has records of me being a student til the end of September this year! after all that, i met up with an old ex-studio mate of mine, who's in town for 2 days (2 days!!) and took time off his "busy schedule" to see me. it was really cool to see him again, and talk about goings-on back home. we went to see a movie in FACT, becuase i met him in the afternoon and i don't know how to spend time without involving a cup of coffee or food (he's a Muslim, and fasting), except a movie.
Wednesday night, i had another dream. this time, with less detail, cos i can't remember it as much. all i can remember is being on some kind of tour bus, with my sister and her friends, on our way to a series of church camps. i made out with a liquorice man in the back of the bus, and we had to stay at some kind of motel with cold, damp sheets. then, i lost my bags, and to get to them i had to go to the other side of the motel. the motel was in some kind of camp grounds, where to get to the other side, i had to cross a river. there was a drawbridge, that could only be released from the other side. and to get the people on the other side to let down the bridge, i had to answer a series of questions. then i got yelled at when i got to where my luggage was, for leaving my bags in the bus and expecting other people to get them for me, "like i was some sort of princess".
which brings us to today, where i have, so far, been to the bank, found out that they can't stamp and endorse my statements and i have to instead order them and wait another 4 working days for them to get sent to me. seen Mary at the department office, and very nearly gave her the wrong information that would have meant that i would have to pay for this extra semester when it's actually just a submission that i'm extending, and not attendance-based (*phew* that was close!). on the way to the library, i bumped into a Mormon named Elder David, and when he asked me if i knew who Joseph Smith was i replied "yeah, i watched an episode of South Park all about him." and now, telling you all about it, as a sort of "hey guys, sorry i haven't been writing as frequently but here, to make up for it, is a long-assed post, with wierd dreams included!"
on Saturday, i tried warming up my roast chicken and gravy in the oven. i'd never used the oven before, and wasn't sure how it worked. so i just popped the chicken in, and (i thought) turned the oven on. i smelled gas coming out. i heard gas coming out. so i assumed everything was working fine and left. 15 minutes later i went back to the kitchen, and found the whole place smelling of gas. i opened the oven door and discovered that the oven wasn't even hot. my chicken was still cold. and smelling of gas. so cold, gas-smelling chicken i had for lunch (beggars, we can't be choosers, aye?). and it took me the entire day to air the apartment out so the gas smell could disappear. later that evening Becky came over again, and took a look at the oven, and pointed out that i was supposed to use my lighter, and light some metal thing at the back of the oven, where the gas comes out from. so it works kind of like a hob. that is one old-fashioned oven, you guys. right out of the Flintstones.
on Sunday, i met up with a guy who's a friend of a friend of my mum's. my mum, she who match-makes from 4000 miles away, passed me his number, and gave strict orders to call him up. because he also studied architecture, and has been studying / working / living here for the past dozen years or so, and may be able to give me some insider job-hunting tips. turns out he's left architecture, having worked at a firm for a while and finding the profession "frustrating and a complete waste of time". way to spend 6 years at university and finding that out, mister. anyway we hung out for a bit and found out that we've been going to the same church for the past year and never bumped into each other. small world, this is. so we went to church together that evening (my first time in months!), and had tea and muffins after.
on Monday, i had therapy in the morning and found out more stuff about me that i didn't know about.
on Tuesday, i had a meeting with my tutors about my project. i didn't have time to prepare much, cos i wasn't around last week, and just could not get out of ben the entire day on Monday so i just printed some site photos, and crapped a lot. and it seems, my crap still gets me places, cos it went okay.
Tuesday night, i had the wierdest dream that i've had in a long time. i dreamt of my friend Marc. he was in the jungles in Borneo (where both him and i hail from), with an old, emaciated man with stringy grey hair who happened to be some kind of village elder. they climbed over stones covered with thick moss, and the old man pointed out an old railway track to him, "Remnants of our colonised past," he said. there was an old, abandoned railcar, and, underneath it, were a pile of corpse-looking bodies with pale, creamy-blue skin.
"Druggies," the old man said, pointing at them.
they watched, as a small girl with chubby pink cheeks and curly black hair crawled among the bodies. and then a baby, less than a year old, emerged too. the old man started getting excited, and angry.
"How can they allow their children to be exposed to this?" he exclaimed. he rushed forward, grabbed the baby, and started running back through the forest, Marc right behind him.
(seriously, you guys. i'm not making this up.)
so they ran over moss-covered stones, and they slid down sand-dunes. cos, you know, there are (apparently) sand-dunes in the rain-forest. two of the druggies from underneath the railcar were chasing after them, cos they realised what the old man and Marc had done. they had on bike-racer suits, one red, the other yellow, and got on their racing bikes, and were hot on Marc's and the old man's trails.
so then Marc and the old man (who, by the way, was dressed only in a soiled-looking loincloth) reached what appeared to be a city, and got in a Humvee. they sped along the streets, the two bikes still behind them. then they reached an army camp. got through the heavily-guarded gates with the baby, where the druggies were unable to follow.
they took the baby to some kind of hospital-looking place, with bed lining the walls. seemed to be some kind of drug-rehab place for kids. the people who worked there were my ex-studio mates, except this time they were doctors. and dressed in army cammies.
on Wednesday, i ran around trying to get together documents for my visa extension application. went to the bank to print out my account statements, then went to the Senate House to get my status letter, where i found that, although the library has a record of me having extended my studies til June next year, the rest of the university only has records of me being a student til the end of September this year! after all that, i met up with an old ex-studio mate of mine, who's in town for 2 days (2 days!!) and took time off his "busy schedule" to see me. it was really cool to see him again, and talk about goings-on back home. we went to see a movie in FACT, becuase i met him in the afternoon and i don't know how to spend time without involving a cup of coffee or food (he's a Muslim, and fasting), except a movie.
Wednesday night, i had another dream. this time, with less detail, cos i can't remember it as much. all i can remember is being on some kind of tour bus, with my sister and her friends, on our way to a series of church camps. i made out with a liquorice man in the back of the bus, and we had to stay at some kind of motel with cold, damp sheets. then, i lost my bags, and to get to them i had to go to the other side of the motel. the motel was in some kind of camp grounds, where to get to the other side, i had to cross a river. there was a drawbridge, that could only be released from the other side. and to get the people on the other side to let down the bridge, i had to answer a series of questions. then i got yelled at when i got to where my luggage was, for leaving my bags in the bus and expecting other people to get them for me, "like i was some sort of princess".
which brings us to today, where i have, so far, been to the bank, found out that they can't stamp and endorse my statements and i have to instead order them and wait another 4 working days for them to get sent to me. seen Mary at the department office, and very nearly gave her the wrong information that would have meant that i would have to pay for this extra semester when it's actually just a submission that i'm extending, and not attendance-based (*phew* that was close!). on the way to the library, i bumped into a Mormon named Elder David, and when he asked me if i knew who Joseph Smith was i replied "yeah, i watched an episode of South Park all about him." and now, telling you all about it, as a sort of "hey guys, sorry i haven't been writing as frequently but here, to make up for it, is a long-assed post, with wierd dreams included!"
posted by nu. at 2:50 pm
4 Comments:
I think that's one of the longest posts you've ever written. Don't stay away for so long next time! You are missed when you're gone, you know.
you guys are too kind. and so right. that was, i think, the longest post i have ever written. i'm just glad i didn't lose it in the bowels of Blogger mid-composition! :)
ahhh.. don't you hate it when that happens? all that long prose (hah!) to be lost in cyberspace. just so you know, i have no inkling what your point is in this post about, but i'm glad you're back to blogging.
haha! is there ever a point in my posts? :)
i'm glad that you're glad that i'm back to blogging, although it (still) has been a "now you see me, now you don't" phase.
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