Bad investments

Shouldn't rule your life forever. I consciously let go of one, and now I'm more awesome than ever.

From the movie True Romance

"Amid the chaos of that day when all l could hear was the thunder of gunshots and all l could smell was the violence in the air, l look back and am amazed that my thoughts were so clear and true. That three words went through my mind endlessly. Repeating themselves like a broken record. You're so cool. You're so cool. You're so cool. And sometimes Clarence asks me what would l have done if he had died. lf that bullet had been two inches more to the left. To this, l always smile. As if l'm not going to satisfy him with a response. But l always do. l tell him of how l would want to die. But that the anguish and the want of death would fade like the stars at dawn. And that things would be much like they are now. Perhaps. Except maybe l wouldn't have named our son... Elvis."

I Hate Chinese Food

I hate how working with food makes me hate that food. The first commercial shoot I worked on was for KFC. Although my hand made a national TV debut, it completely put me off eating KFC for about three months. There was something about watching the food stylist rearrange chicken pieces and herbs on macaroni and fake a mashed potato gravy that really put me off. But the worst one was when they were shooting the money shot, the one of golden fried chicken tumbling downwards. Watching fried chicken being manipulated and thrown around for a couple hours was just so unappetizing, plus the incredible amount that was thrown away after.

But anyway, the point I wanted to get to was - god Chinese takeaways are so disgusting. I've seen the cooks drop chicken balls on the floor and put them back on the table. Sometimes I have to touch the customers' food when I put the lid on and the cooks haven't pushed the food into the plastic boxes nicely. I try to use the lid but sometimes you really need a hand. Today a dog sniffed the back of my hand as I walked down the street on the way to work. I didn't wash my hand. I feel a bit gross. But I never touch anything with the back of my hand. Today I saw the cook picking beansprouts out of noodles with his bare hands cause there were too many and shoving them into his own mouth. Probably touched his fingers to his mouth then back to the noodles. Gross. So gross. Saw boss cut raw/half-cooked frozen spare ribs with the same knife he uses to cut sesame prawn on toast after it's fried (i.e. cooked food). Constantly picking up cutlery that doesn't feel clean at all, but don't have time to wash it, end up plonking it in soup/soup in it to mask it. So disgusted. Reason with self that most people have immune systems that can handle it easily. Still disgusted. Hate working there. Hate that I eat it too. Hate that I do it too.

Life is a strange and elusive thing.

I know what you're thinking. What do you mean elusive? How can life be elusive, don't we all live? Putting it into context would involve thinking about the term 'get a life'. What does it mean to get a life?

Do you have a life if all you do is work in a factory line, go home, feed your dog, play with your dog and eat TV ready meals? What if you truly enjoyed it? Conversely what if you went out every night and met people, young, cool, hip, influential people, people who partied and drank and knew all the coolest things. Do you then 'have a life'?

At one point in my life I truly believed I would not go to and definitely did not need to go to university. But now that I have, now that I've gotten my mandatory Bachelor's degree (and a shit grade to boot, though completely my own fault), I'm faced with what I can only refer to as The Rest Of My Life and all I can say is, it feels like shit. 

I used to read Goosebumps books by R.L Stine when I was about 10-12, and a particular series was called Give Yourself Goosebumps. These creepy books had you picking pages to make different choices and if you made a lousy one you'd be faced with a sticky end. When you apply this to my life now - HOLY COW! I mean, no, really, HOLY COW WTF! Is there anything I can do that WON'T lead to the destruction of the rest of my life, be it complete destruction, material or emotional, or mediocrity forever? 

I have this persistent feeling of distress and antsiness, and I've come to theorize that it comes from two different sides of oneself. One side insists it has to get better than this, and the other is slowly coming to realize that it isn't. At my age, at my current life situation, at my current mindset, I am at my prime to be hit by this the hardest. When one gets older one probably gets better at causing life to be better than this and/or accepting that it's okay if it doesn't, leading to more inner calm but not necessarily happiness.

Life, you are such a strange and elusive thing. I wish we could all be apes again.

Natalie Portman

For all intents and purposes (intensive purposes - HAHA), I am a very straight person. I never fantasize about girls, I never watch lesbian porn, I never feel the slightest bit inclined to kiss a girl or see her naked or any any any any thing at all. But Natalie Portman. Natalie Portman is the stuff my dreams are made of. I want to be Natalie Portman. I want to be with Natalie Portman. I want to stare at Natalie Portman all day. I want to be Natalie Portman's baby. I want to be Natalie Portman's dog. I want Natalie Portman to rub my tummy and tell me I am a good girl.

Anus

I went out with this Polish guy one time, and he was really nice. We went to one of the business people bars near Bank and he asked me what drink I would like to have. I said a Margarita (BONUS: I knew and briefly lived on a street called Margarita Place. Unfortunately back then I was much too young to know that I really like margaritas), and he went off. He came back a few minutes later all apologetic and asked if I had a second choice, so I said a Long Island Iced Tea and he went and got it and came back with a sob story on how the bartender didn't know what a Margarita was and he told him he was on a really important date and had to get it, hehe. We got on really well and yadda yadda and stuff and texted each other and stuff and one day! As a joke! I said something something 'anus' on his FB wall (his name is Eastern European and contains the word anus) and he just totally flipped out and never talked to me again. Oh welllllllllllll.

Amy Winehouse died.

I bet London killed her, I bet it did.

Getting hit on in a gay bar.

One of my friends in London (ooo I sound like I have so many but I really don't) turned 20 recently, and she decided that the best way to celebrate her maturity and the death of her teen years was to party at a gay club.

Lousy Tofu didn't want to go because he never wants to go anywhere with me, but then I insisted he did so he agreed to. We have our separate days then meet downtown at a pub. After the pub Tofu has convinced one of his friends to go to the gar bar too (he cannot suffer my presence alone) so we all go at stand outside G-A-Y at the designated time. Tofu does a very good 'impression' (put in quotation marks because it is part impression part reality) of a gay person with a gay lisp and has the gay bouncer put paper wristbands on us. He and his friend do an uncannily good performance of 'Sweet Transvestite' from Rocky Horror. I like it.

After 40 minutes no one has showed, and after a further 20 this guy we know shows up. We say we're waiting for everyone to go in and he says it's closing and he's just come out. All this time we've not been able to get anyone else who was supposed to go on the phone, presumably because they were on the tube. Gay bouncer confirms that it is closing, and we finally manage to get someone on the phone. They say they are going to another G-A-Y, with a slightly different name that bears no significance to me.

We meet at the G-A-Y #2, which is £2 to get in and has a really long line. We stand there for really long, and then two people from our group go in (one of whom is Clarence, and this happened several weeks before he was our houseguest), and when Tofu and his [boy]friend and I are in the front of the line, the bouncer asks how many people are in our group. Tofu turns around and counts the birthday girl and all her friends and there are 11. He tells the bouncer, and then he tells us our group is too large and tells us to get out of the line. What a douche.

We regroup slightly further away, and the birthday girl says to get in groups of 2 for the next gay bar. Tofu gets all ummm and aaahhh-y so I leave him and his boyfriend and ask another girl, G, to go in with me. We walk along and Tofu largely ignores me and I get rapidly bored, but also make conversation with a couple of other people, including Clarence. When we are at the bar I realize I've lost sight of G and then she's gone so I have to go back to Tofu and his boyfriend. We go through gender-separated security lines and regroup inside.

I see Tofu at the bar, and I ask him what he is doing. He says he is getting some water and I am really thirsty, so I say 'Can I have a bit?' and he says 'Why can't you just get your own?' 'Well can you ask for two then.' He refuses. I am appalled, then he starts defending himself about how he wants it and he feels bad enough asking for it in the first place and so on. I walk away, and stand around with the birthday girl and G, then Tofu comes over with some water and starts offering it to me. We argue a bit about why he wouldn't just let me have a drink of his instead of being a jerk.

Tofu and his boyfriend go off to the dancefloor and start grinding each other. I'm not nearly intoxicated enough to, the Smirnoff Cola I had on the tube like a delinquent fast wearing off. Clarence is standing around weirdly like me, so we go stand in one of the short arched hallways between the bar and dancehall that don't have gay people making out in them and talk and watch the others. Clarence has a torchlight and shines it on random people.

Tofu comes over and starts asking me to dance, but I'm not very inclined to be a third wheel amongst my own boyfriend and try to dance to Baby One More Time, so I don't. We start shouting at each other because it's very loud and we're getting annoyed. He leaves and Clarence asks if we are shouting because it's loud or because we're angry. I tell him about the water thing and another thing related to a house party Clarence was at too, quite some time ago which sucks balls.

Clarence & I go sit upstairs and find another dancehall, which has music by far better than the downstairs one. There are benches down the side of the room too, so we sit there near the door. A few people walk past, and one guy turns around a couple times and stares at me. Clarence wants to get water and asks me if I want anything, and I say no but he asks me are you sure? Just some water? and I say okay.

The guy who was looking at me earlier comes back and stands next to me.
'Hi,' he says.
'Hi,' I say.
He pauses.
'Uhh.. Are you gay or straight?' I say.

He says he is straight and I ask what he is doing here. He says he is with some friends some of whom are gay. I say I am with some girls some of whom I heard are gay but I don't know who. He says he is from Israel and we make some small talk and then I tell him how my passport is banned in Israel. He says it isn't, and I say it is. He says it isn't. I say it is, I'll show you right now! And he goes no no no no there is no such thing. He goes on to explain he works for an airline or whatever and 'we would love to have you in our country' etc. I start to feel meh because this conversation isn't interesting at all.

Clarence comes back holding two very refreshing looking cups of iced water, and I take one. Israeli Guy remains there and I don't know what to do but I don't really want to talk to him anymore. A couple of the girls who were with the birthday girl come up and tell me Tofu and his boyfriend are looking for me. I tell Israeli Guy I have a boyfriend so he leaves. Then I go to Tofu and his boyfriend and we leave.

Japanese Karaoke Night Club

I haven't told anyone this, but in my moments of despondency about my dwindling money reserve, I go on Gumtree and look at job ads. Sometime late last year, when I had a lot more money than I did now but was rather discomfited by the ridiculous amount of money it requires to live like a working class pauper in London, I sent my CV and picture in to this Japanese karaoke club. I was asked to go in for an interview, so I went all the way to St. John's Wood, Google Maps-ed my way to the place and found myself standing outside this green-lit door with no signboard with nothing else open nearby but a large off-licence/supermarket. I stood outside for something like ten minutes, very lightly pushing the door (which of course didn't open), then a very vampy looking woman with a floor-length dress and very heavy eye make up came out and stared at me suspiciously. I do like my black eyeliner but that was just too much, so I squealed like a stuck pig in my head and went back to the Tube and went home. I just thought about it now because last night I was talking to a girl I know vaguely and she said she was working at a Japanese karaoke club in St. John's Wood, and how many Japanese karaoke clubs can there be in St. John's Wood. She says you have to dress sexily and the customers can be gropey, so I suppose I do like my Chinese place that isn't too busy and I can watch King of Queens at. 

Some Guy.

Hey you, you left a pair of shorts that look like they've been dry cleaned or something in my restaurant about a week ago. You had an extra extra hot special fried rice and I remember that because it was an easy order and I love easy orders, especially when they are eat in. I hope you remember where you left them and come back and get them, because I feel so bad for you when I see them. I hate losing things.

Fetish Guy.

Rachel and I were walking down the street near the Pret between Leicester Square and Covent Garden one day, and it was a particularly frustrating day for her because she was handing out CVs and asking for a job at all these random places. Suddenly this guy in a white office shirt and slacks and briefcase comes up to us, his formal attire offset by a large bald patch and shoulder-length hair around it. He says 'Excuse me.' We say 'Yeah?'

He says something like 'We're looking for people to take part in a study to just go around and do things like try clothes and shoes on and it'll only take a couple of hours and you can make £100-200 in a day and  it's all very simple and would you be interested?'

We've both been very flustered about our depleting money situation for some time, and I thought it was some sort of mystery shopping - which Rachel later said she thought too - so we say okay. So he starts walking with us down the street and talks about how he's experimenting with pushing the boundaries of what people feel comfortable with and says 'fetish' and 'foot' a lot of times but not making all that much sense. 

Anyway so then he asks us to take our shoes off and walk down the street barefoot for £10 each, which we happily do. It's quite nice near Covent Garden because of the cobbled streets and stuff, but a lot of people look at our feet. He then starts asking if we'd be willing to let people suck our feet, so Rachel says no and I say everything has a price. He loves my answer and asks me to expand on it a bit, but there aren't many ways I can phrase 'everything has a price'.

His next phase is to ask us to pick out clothes for each other to wear, so he takes us into some cutesy lacey store in an armpit of Covent Garden and watches us touch the clothes uneasily. He says 'I don't mean to rush you but the quicker you get done here the more money you can make doing other things' a few times. We're still quite unsure about what he wants, to we ask him again and he says he wants us to dress each other, like properly pull the clothes on each other. Which we say we don't want to do so he says okay and we leave the store.

Outside he asks what we'd do now, and since Rachel has already bowed out of having her feet sucked he focuses on me. I do think it's a bit gross, but I'm sure I've stepped in things more disgusting than someone's mouth - on that day alone from walking barefoot in Central London. I don't see why anyone would want to, but if I were getting paid for it I'm willing to detach myself enough from my feet for a couple minutes to let them be sucked. I ask him how much it would be and he says either £10 or £20, I've forgotten which since it's much too low for me anyway so we get on with our lives.  

It's very dubious and disgusting since he had no papers or whatever supporting his 'study' and didn't explain it very well at all and I didn't lose any organs or anything so it's all good, people, it's all good.

Clarence The Houseguest.

My friend Clarence* is homeless. Although he has an inheritance and student loan, he is 'unable' to find a short term place to let while he is in between leases. I live in a storeroom with a bed in it. My friend Rachel was homeless for a week, so she was staying with me at the time. It's a massive room with stuff all around it and a double bed in the middle.

The first night Clarence stayed it was supposed to be a one off thing, and I hemmed and hawwed about it and told him how my friend was staying and I didn't want my landlord to see so many people there. This was very strategic because I was okay with him staying now and then, but not all the time, especially not since I myself am in transition. But then Tofu** got stoned and started telling him how if he couldn't find anywhere else - just ask, man, just ask. Then when Clarence was going to bed at approx. 5-6 am he kept talking to Rachel until she had to go sit in the kitchen. In the morning we had to ask him repeatedly to get up and fold the bedding we'd set out for him before he did, thus leaving about an hour later than we'd intended to.

The second night Clarence brought a cat. We had him sleep in Tofu's room instead of mine because Rachel is allergic to cats and I don't want her to be uncomfortable in more ways than one. Didn't hang out much that night, partially because he only got there pretty late, maybe 11-12ish. Much later when Rachel and I were asleep Tofu came in and said Clarence kept laughing and he couldn't sleep, so he slept with us. Which Rachel's on-off boyfriend was rather mad about, haha. Went out before Clarence left, came back and Tofu said he only left at 2:30pm. And the cat pooped on his blanket.

THE THIRD NIGHT, Tofu and I were in the park after work when Clarence called at about 12:30 am. He asked stuff about whether he could stay tonight/tomorrow night and whether he could leave some stuff at my place. I said he could leave his stuff and stay tomorrow night, and then he said 'What about tonight?'. I said 'Tonight's not so good.' and he said 'Why?'. Having just drank a bit I didn't have the clarity of mind to say that I didn't have to explain to someone why calling me at 12:30 am if he could stay at my place wouldn't work so well for me.

So I mumbled some stuff about it not being convenient and really late and my friend still being there. He persisted some more, and we gave in. Then comes the problem of asking him where he was. By this time I'd gotten sick of talking about it and Tofu started talking to him about which tube station was closest. This went on for a while until I pointed out that he might not make the last tube. Tofu, being rubbish at knowing about public transportation, made me talk to Clarence again. He finally told me he was near Old Street/Shoreditch - an AREA - as opposed to the name of the street he was on when I'd asked him earlier which I wouldn't have any clue about. Tofu and I both breathed a sigh of relief when I told him to just get the 43 bus from Old Street. He says okay, and I tell him to call when he gets on the 43.

We spend the next hour not knowing what is going on, but struggle to stay awake. At 1:40 am Clarence calls, and say he is at London Bridge. FUCKING LONDON BRIDGE. He took over an hour to get a fucking small distance in the fucking wrong direction. I'm in Muswell Hill, which is North London. Old Street is Central London, but slightly to the East. London Bridge is in Central, but borderline South London. Fucking A.

I am starting to get really Pissed Off at this point. Tofu and I get up to get the bedding from the room Rachel's sleeping in. We watch an episode of King Of Queens but I fall asleep near the ending because I am so tired. I tell Tofu he is going to have to let Clarence in. He starts complaining strongly because he 'got up so many times already'. He got up three times.

#1. He got up because he had to pee. He wanted to watch King Of Queens and I was too tired to want to watch it enough to get it, so he tried to. Rachel leaves her computer on to play episodes of King Of Queens while she falls asleep to it, so it was playing. He is terrified of Rachel so he runs away, leaving both her door and his own door open.

#2. He has to get up to close both the doors.

#3. We both get up to get the bedding for Clarence, and I get my netbook.

Which makes it completely unfair that he keeps going on about how he had to get up so many times, which I keep pointing out and saying 'You. Had. To. Pee.' He whines again and again about how many times he had to get up, and I keep repeating the reasons behind why he got up. We start getting louder, and all he keeps saying is he had to get up so many times, and I keep pointing out how HE HAD TO PEE AND HE HAD TO GET UP AGAIN BECAUSE OF HIS OWN FAULT AND AFTER THAT I GOT UP TOO. But now it's reached the point where he keeps shushing me and telling me to shut up and stop in the middle of my talking. And I stop. And he doesn't respond to ANYTHING I just said, so I repeat it again. And he shushes me again. And I wait again. And so on. Thrown into that is that whenever I complain about how rubbish Clarence is, he keeps defending Clarence. Which branches into how he is always on other people's side and so nice to everyone, except me. Which he refuses to listen to at all. Then I get so mad I sit outside and read for a while.

When I come back he tells me to go to sleep and that he'll let Clarence in. It is 2:40 am.

Clarence shows up at just past 3 am. Tofu lets him in, I am half-asleep but I can still hear them. Clarence asks if we've been sleeping. Tofu says 'not really' and he says 'Why not?'. I am SO tired that I am unable to start yelling at him about WHY WE DID NOT SLEEP. Clarence messes about a bit more, telling Tofu he has to go brush his teeth or some other unimportant rubbish he should shut up and do instead of talking about doing. Then he says 'Where should I put the cat?' and I am so fucking sick of it all I say 'What the fuck.' loudly, while Tofu says 'You've still got the cat, man?'. Clarence then says he is joking. I somehow get even more fucking sick of it than I already am and pull the duvet over my head and whine very very very softly to Tofu to please make it stop and he comforts me slightly.

After some time Clarence stops and I fall into restless sleep.

In the morning I wake up at 8:40 and my body aches and feels like I'm sinking into the bed with exhaustion. I force myself to go back to sleep. At 10 something Tofu and I start waking up and blowing farts on each other, and Clarence says [as a joke] 'I think you guys should leave the room.' Which isn't fucking funny at all.

Tofu starts Skyping his mother and I eat with Rachel. Tofu eats and hangs around and refuses to sit in my room because he doesn't want to leave Clarence alone although he is sleeping. I shower and get ready and Clarence finally gets up. Tofu and I tell Clarence he has to put his bedding back, and he just dumps it back in a messy pile without folding it. Despite being here before and seeing and unfolding and refolding the same old same shit the previous two nights he slept over. Tofu goes back to his room and Clarence is hanging around mine and I go tell him he has to tell Clarence to fold it. I come back in and Tofu is folding Clarence's fucking shit and Clarence looks at me and says 'I didn't know I had to fold it.'

I don't know who I am madder at. I know Tofu must have told him something like 'Claudia says you have to fold it.' because it is typical of him to villianize me like he always fucking does. If someone rams into me while I am standing still in the supermarket he snaps at me to 'Watch out!/Get out of the way!'.

When we are on the way out Clarence suddenly realizes he doesn't have his phone. He searches my room, Tofu's room, his bags about three times each for about fifteen minutes. Tofu and I get bored of trying to help this scatterbrain so we stand in front of the full length mirror in the kitchen (haha) and check ourselves out. Clarence comes in and says he can't find it, and I say are you sure it's not in here, and poke the breast pocket on his shirt. It feels hard, so I reach in and pull out his missing phone.

Tofu and I were going to Camden that day. Clarence didn't have anywhere to go and figured he would go to town, so he took the same bus and then later evolved to getting off with us and then kept walking down the street with us but really slowly. When he finally went off we started walking very quickly because I was very hungry. The End.

(There is more about his odd phone call and our soft-hearted concern about his abode for that night as well, but it's best to just leave it at that.)

*Not his real name.
**Not his real name either.

PSW

Sometimes I don't really want to apply for the PSW and stay here a couple more years. I'm craving some damn good hawker food and the Chinese/Indian/Malaysian/whatever places here just aren't hitting the spot, despite having some damn good burritos I love. But then I know people who desperately wish they were here and I've heard about the things people do just to get into the country and they aren't pretty. I've heard that one thing people do is fly in and tear up their passports (so they can't be deported) on the plane and get arrested at customs. They then get released some time later and seek asylum. I also has a friend who desperately wants to stay but she finishes university next year when it won't be available anymore, so I suppose it seems like a bit of a waste if I don't stay.

Haha.

I guess the reasoning behind my unimaginative blog title and URL is that "haha" is my go to word. I type it when I have nothing else to say in a typed conversation, at the end of sentences I want to trivialize, when I am actually laughing at something. I mumble it when someone makes an unfunny joke, I laugh it when someone makes a funny one. I also never say the world 'lol'.