Visa lady: Can I see your passport?
Me: Sure (Hands her a Singaporean passport)
Visa lady: Can I see your IC?
Me: Um...is my passport not enough? But okay... (Hands her a pink Singaporean IC)
Visa lady: Ah, I see you're Singaporean. (In a moment of revelation.)
Me: -_-
She then asked me to go and photocopy my IC to submit it along with the rest of my application tomorrow to make "doubly sure". Apparently the passport doesn't really count. She's right, they were just handing them out at the door.
Tuesday, July 17, 2007
Sunday, July 15, 2007
Before I go
Buffets are the most entertaining times to people watch, when they have to wrestle their gluttony in the public eye. Like that guy that grabbed the nearest thongs and tried to dive into pile of salmon sashimi, only to be stopped by the chef and told to use the long fiddly chopsticks instead, or the woman who picked up every single piece of fish on the plate to check its underside. I wasn't sure what she was looking for, but Cheryl said to tell her that 'the gold is underneath the tuna' the next time I saw her.
I'm totally addicted to Michael Buble's 'Everything'. It makes me so mushy feeling. That and 'Before he cheats' by Carrie Underwood. I'm waiting for Malaysian radio to ruin those songs for me though, through a severe case of overplaying; the way Elliott Yamin's voice triggers an immediate finger on the presets.
I'm off to Singapore tomorrow morning. I'm seeing how quickly I can get in and get out, preferably with my entry clearance in tow. Hopefully they won't stop me from re-entering Malaysia, thinking I've just ducked into Singapore for 48 hours to refresh my visitor's pass. Not that I want to be completely antisocial and not see anyone, in fact I've already got a dinner booked for Monday night and lunch on Tuesday, but I'm so desperate to just rest at home before the great New Zealand adventure kicks off in two weeks or so. Holidays abroad with my family always seem to feel like they go at breakneck speed, especially when Mum's idea of sleeping in is 8.30am (9 O'CLOCK ALREADY! GET UP!).
My summer is running by as fast as a good book.
I'm totally addicted to Michael Buble's 'Everything'. It makes me so mushy feeling. That and 'Before he cheats' by Carrie Underwood. I'm waiting for Malaysian radio to ruin those songs for me though, through a severe case of overplaying; the way Elliott Yamin's voice triggers an immediate finger on the presets.
I'm off to Singapore tomorrow morning. I'm seeing how quickly I can get in and get out, preferably with my entry clearance in tow. Hopefully they won't stop me from re-entering Malaysia, thinking I've just ducked into Singapore for 48 hours to refresh my visitor's pass. Not that I want to be completely antisocial and not see anyone, in fact I've already got a dinner booked for Monday night and lunch on Tuesday, but I'm so desperate to just rest at home before the great New Zealand adventure kicks off in two weeks or so. Holidays abroad with my family always seem to feel like they go at breakneck speed, especially when Mum's idea of sleeping in is 8.30am (9 O'CLOCK ALREADY! GET UP!).
My summer is running by as fast as a good book.
Wednesday, July 11, 2007
I just don't understand
How can someone who goes to church every week, has been baptised no less, and calls himself a Christian turn his back on the very thing he is supposed to uphold and lie to his parents? Let's not talk about the fact that the lie was about skipping class (again). His completely hypocritical actions make me sick to my stomach.
We stood in line wondering if we should go to the trouble of buying him and his friends movie tickets because that was where he was supposed to be after school, instead of at a cyber cafe during class. We thought of calling but checked the time and thought he would be in class and therefore not a good idea to distract him. The fact that Mum even let him go out on a school day is something we would never have even dared ask for.
Fine, we can sympathise - it's hard for a boy to grow up with two older sisters, so the special dispension he's been getting his whole life maybe makes up for that. Like the way he was given RM400 the very same morning to buy an iPod Nano, while Cheryl still hangs onto her disc player; or the way he's already thinking about replacing his six month old phone, and I'm still clinging to my four-year-old Nokia that sparks exclamations of surprise that anyone even still has that model.
It's not as if he works outside of school hours and let's not talk about the huge amounts of grief he caused us by spending more time on WoW than actually studying during his last exam session. His grades aren't stellar, although he certainly doesn't lack for brains. He's the sort who thinks he can pass math without lifting a finger outside class to practice. He has to sit through hours of tuition so someone can babysit him, at the age of seventeen, and makes sure that he studies some. Computer every night for four hours is apparently not enough, although we were barely allowed two hours during our A levels, he cuts class without flinching to go to a cyber cafe despite repeated promises never to go again during term time.
When Mum was interrogating him this afternoon, I could not for the life of me think why she would keep on asking the same questions. I wanted to jump in and stop her. Obviously she knows her son better. Lies. All lies. His empty promises amount to nothing.
How can one boy showered by so much love and generosity do this? We've been taken for fools, the leniency we show him only gave him a chance to take advantage of us. The betrayal is intense. It felt like I've been sucker punched, flooded by waves and waves of disappointment. The glimmer of hope I hang onto that he's finally grown up gets slimmer and more distant every time. I can only imagine what Mum is going through.I don't know what to think of him anymore.
We stood in line wondering if we should go to the trouble of buying him and his friends movie tickets because that was where he was supposed to be after school, instead of at a cyber cafe during class. We thought of calling but checked the time and thought he would be in class and therefore not a good idea to distract him. The fact that Mum even let him go out on a school day is something we would never have even dared ask for.
Fine, we can sympathise - it's hard for a boy to grow up with two older sisters, so the special dispension he's been getting his whole life maybe makes up for that. Like the way he was given RM400 the very same morning to buy an iPod Nano, while Cheryl still hangs onto her disc player; or the way he's already thinking about replacing his six month old phone, and I'm still clinging to my four-year-old Nokia that sparks exclamations of surprise that anyone even still has that model.
It's not as if he works outside of school hours and let's not talk about the huge amounts of grief he caused us by spending more time on WoW than actually studying during his last exam session. His grades aren't stellar, although he certainly doesn't lack for brains. He's the sort who thinks he can pass math without lifting a finger outside class to practice. He has to sit through hours of tuition so someone can babysit him, at the age of seventeen, and makes sure that he studies some. Computer every night for four hours is apparently not enough, although we were barely allowed two hours during our A levels, he cuts class without flinching to go to a cyber cafe despite repeated promises never to go again during term time.
When Mum was interrogating him this afternoon, I could not for the life of me think why she would keep on asking the same questions. I wanted to jump in and stop her. Obviously she knows her son better. Lies. All lies. His empty promises amount to nothing.
How can one boy showered by so much love and generosity do this? We've been taken for fools, the leniency we show him only gave him a chance to take advantage of us. The betrayal is intense. It felt like I've been sucker punched, flooded by waves and waves of disappointment. The glimmer of hope I hang onto that he's finally grown up gets slimmer and more distant every time. I can only imagine what Mum is going through.I don't know what to think of him anymore.
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