Of course it's not me. I wanna be like one, though, not beautiful bit, but rich and famous.
Steven Spielberg born on December 18, 1946
Brad Pitt born on December 18, 1963
Katie Holmes born on December 18, 1978
Christina Aguilera born on December 18, 1980
http://www.celebrity-link.com/birthday_day-18_month-12.html
Friday, December 21, 2007
Wednesday, July 04, 2007
I ain't (Ful)bright after all. Damn it!
Blame it on my poor university results.
I did well in the Screening Test, or so I was told. So I had a reason to be happy and to believe that I would advance to the next round, an oral interview, to realise my "American Dream". I had patiently been waiting for the news. Everytime my phone rang, my heart would beat faster than normal, thinking and hoping that someone from American Embassy was calling to inform me about the interview. One week passed. Two weeks passed... with nothing to cheer about. I messaged my friend to ask. "My application didn't pass coz' I didn't do very well for my uni," came the reply. Impatiently, I called American Embassy to check on mine. "Sorry sir, your application didn't pass because you didn't even have a degree," explained the guy. "But I've obtained my degree with honour from S'pore," I insisted. " Why don't you fax your certificate to us and we will re-consider it?" So I did. One week passed with no news from him. Today I decided to call again. "Oh, sorry sir your university results were not very good in comparision with other candidates. So..." Classic!
My shattered dreams and broken heart are mending on the shelf...Now I miss Camile Valasco.
I did well in the Screening Test, or so I was told. So I had a reason to be happy and to believe that I would advance to the next round, an oral interview, to realise my "American Dream". I had patiently been waiting for the news. Everytime my phone rang, my heart would beat faster than normal, thinking and hoping that someone from American Embassy was calling to inform me about the interview. One week passed. Two weeks passed... with nothing to cheer about. I messaged my friend to ask. "My application didn't pass coz' I didn't do very well for my uni," came the reply. Impatiently, I called American Embassy to check on mine. "Sorry sir, your application didn't pass because you didn't even have a degree," explained the guy. "But I've obtained my degree with honour from S'pore," I insisted. " Why don't you fax your certificate to us and we will re-consider it?" So I did. One week passed with no news from him. Today I decided to call again. "Oh, sorry sir your university results were not very good in comparision with other candidates. So..." Classic!
My shattered dreams and broken heart are mending on the shelf...Now I miss Camile Valasco.
Sunday, July 01, 2007
I hate feeling I'm hated.
I can’t please everyone, of course, but at least I should not make anyone loathe me, if I can avoid.
I’ve been busy for the past few weeks with constant travel to and fro Khoun district where our community radio station being established, for training. Our office is located in a town of Xiengkhouang. Few days ago my colleague called to inform me that a provincial post office had sent a notice letter to me to collect a package from Singapore within 7 days by yourself or authorizing someone to do so for you.
Having to work 8 to 5, Mon-Sat, for the past weeks, I decided draft an authorization letter authorizing my younger brother to collect that mysterious package (I was not sure whom this would be from. It could be from my former boss because I asked him to send me a certificate of employment. Or it could be from my Tuesday Group’s friends, especially Wee Liang who has sent 8 Days mags to me several times before.) with my passport.
When I returned home, I asked my brother excitedly what the package was. To my unpleasant surprise, I was told that a postman (woman, to be precise) refused to give the package to my brother; she wasn’t convinced that my brother and I were biologically related since the evidence he showed to her was an authorization letter with my genuine signature and original passport and his own identity card. She told my brother that I should be the one to collect the package myself although after being told by brother that I was away and busy, and that he should have a family book with clear photos showing that my brother and I were family.
The following day, I went to the post office having memorized some curse and swear words to shout at her. I was extremely angry. She was late. Before long I walked over to the counter after she entered. “Was it you whom my brother approached for the package?” I asked. “Yes,” she replied. “Why on earth you refused to keep my brother that package? Which part of evidence does not proof that I am not an owner of that package? I’ve written an authorization letter indicating the person being authorized with his ic number; I’ve also signed and accompanied the letter with my very own passport. Isn’t that enough?” I shouted at her although she was trying to explain. Other customers in the office were staring at me but I didn’t care; I was so out of control. “Passport is only used when you go overseas,” was her reason, “all we need to proof that you are the real owner of the package is your family recorded book with your photos and your brother’s. I didn’t keep the package out to your brother because I was afraid that later on you would come to us and ask from us again.” I was stunned with her response. How could that be possible? First of all, I’ve written an authorization letter and duly signed on it; the letter has indicated that my brother with his IC is authorized to collect the package on behalf of me. Second, I’ve given my passport book to my brother. Together with his identity card, he has presented an authorization letter and my passport book to her. And third, in order to get my passport, I must already possess an identity card; in order to get an identity card, I must already have a family recorded book. Therefore, having a passport book is much higher than having a family book. In other word, if I have a passport it means I already have a family recorded book and IC. It makes no sense to me at all that she rejected my passport over a family book.
Anyway, after my few shouts, she succumbed, or so I thought. I started to feel terrible for her and myself. She went to a kept room to get the package for me. Awhile later, she brought a big yellow envelope with her. I recognized that neat handwriting; it’s Eek’s. After long silent, I was thinking to myself I should probably apologize to her for shouting at her like that although she was absolutely ignorant about passport-family-book thing. Just when she handed the package to me, she said, “You don’t have to shout at me like this. I didn’t give the package to your brother because he didn’t have a family book to show…” And just like that, I took the envelope from her and walked away without even looking at her or saying ‘thanks’.
I left that place feeling provoked angrily. Why should I be so angry? Who is she and why should I care? She was just ignorant. I wasn’t wrong. Why should I feel guilty and sorry? Maybe, I shouldn’t think about it. Damn it.
I’ve been busy for the past few weeks with constant travel to and fro Khoun district where our community radio station being established, for training. Our office is located in a town of Xiengkhouang. Few days ago my colleague called to inform me that a provincial post office had sent a notice letter to me to collect a package from Singapore within 7 days by yourself or authorizing someone to do so for you.
Having to work 8 to 5, Mon-Sat, for the past weeks, I decided draft an authorization letter authorizing my younger brother to collect that mysterious package (I was not sure whom this would be from. It could be from my former boss because I asked him to send me a certificate of employment. Or it could be from my Tuesday Group’s friends, especially Wee Liang who has sent 8 Days mags to me several times before.) with my passport.
When I returned home, I asked my brother excitedly what the package was. To my unpleasant surprise, I was told that a postman (woman, to be precise) refused to give the package to my brother; she wasn’t convinced that my brother and I were biologically related since the evidence he showed to her was an authorization letter with my genuine signature and original passport and his own identity card. She told my brother that I should be the one to collect the package myself although after being told by brother that I was away and busy, and that he should have a family book with clear photos showing that my brother and I were family.
The following day, I went to the post office having memorized some curse and swear words to shout at her. I was extremely angry. She was late. Before long I walked over to the counter after she entered. “Was it you whom my brother approached for the package?” I asked. “Yes,” she replied. “Why on earth you refused to keep my brother that package? Which part of evidence does not proof that I am not an owner of that package? I’ve written an authorization letter indicating the person being authorized with his ic number; I’ve also signed and accompanied the letter with my very own passport. Isn’t that enough?” I shouted at her although she was trying to explain. Other customers in the office were staring at me but I didn’t care; I was so out of control. “Passport is only used when you go overseas,” was her reason, “all we need to proof that you are the real owner of the package is your family recorded book with your photos and your brother’s. I didn’t keep the package out to your brother because I was afraid that later on you would come to us and ask from us again.” I was stunned with her response. How could that be possible? First of all, I’ve written an authorization letter and duly signed on it; the letter has indicated that my brother with his IC is authorized to collect the package on behalf of me. Second, I’ve given my passport book to my brother. Together with his identity card, he has presented an authorization letter and my passport book to her. And third, in order to get my passport, I must already possess an identity card; in order to get an identity card, I must already have a family recorded book. Therefore, having a passport book is much higher than having a family book. In other word, if I have a passport it means I already have a family recorded book and IC. It makes no sense to me at all that she rejected my passport over a family book.
Anyway, after my few shouts, she succumbed, or so I thought. I started to feel terrible for her and myself. She went to a kept room to get the package for me. Awhile later, she brought a big yellow envelope with her. I recognized that neat handwriting; it’s Eek’s. After long silent, I was thinking to myself I should probably apologize to her for shouting at her like that although she was absolutely ignorant about passport-family-book thing. Just when she handed the package to me, she said, “You don’t have to shout at me like this. I didn’t give the package to your brother because he didn’t have a family book to show…” And just like that, I took the envelope from her and walked away without even looking at her or saying ‘thanks’.
I left that place feeling provoked angrily. Why should I be so angry? Who is she and why should I care? She was just ignorant. I wasn’t wrong. Why should I feel guilty and sorry? Maybe, I shouldn’t think about it. Damn it.
Friday, June 29, 2007
You can't bring me down today.
I am on top of the world. I can't remember when was the last time I am so excited like this?
My friend who sat for the same Fulbright Scholarship's Screening Test as mine a couple weeks ago messaged me," hey xai I got to the next round! how abt you? you need to call them and ask." I was happy for my friend, at the same time, my heart shrank and was filled with mix emotions both excited and nervous. I wanted to know so badly if I got in but I was also afraid what if I didn't get in. Although I said to my housemate, " It doesn't matter if I didn't pass this Screening Test. I just wanted to try," of course deep inside, it does matter to me. Hey I was a scholar and graduated from Singapore, a lion city, you know. Nervous and scared I might be, I couldn't bear waiting for the results any longer. I decided to call. " How do you think you did, sir?" a person on the other end of the phone asked. " I did my best. So how did I do?" I asked. " Hmm you got 131 points (out of 150)," he responded. "Yeah? Was it good?" I asked excitedly and almost jumped inside a toilet. " Yeah pretty high," said he. " Really? It means...?" I asked for confirmation.Yes! I got into the next round for Fulbright Scholarship, you know, the scholarship for the brightest people on earth. The next round is an oral interview.Nah I don't expect too high. After all, I am not that so bright. I am just going to give by best shot and see how it goes. As the say goes " Hope for the best but expect the worst." I bear that in mind.
My friend who sat for the same Fulbright Scholarship's Screening Test as mine a couple weeks ago messaged me," hey xai I got to the next round! how abt you? you need to call them and ask." I was happy for my friend, at the same time, my heart shrank and was filled with mix emotions both excited and nervous. I wanted to know so badly if I got in but I was also afraid what if I didn't get in. Although I said to my housemate, " It doesn't matter if I didn't pass this Screening Test. I just wanted to try," of course deep inside, it does matter to me. Hey I was a scholar and graduated from Singapore, a lion city, you know. Nervous and scared I might be, I couldn't bear waiting for the results any longer. I decided to call. " How do you think you did, sir?" a person on the other end of the phone asked. " I did my best. So how did I do?" I asked. " Hmm you got 131 points (out of 150)," he responded. "Yeah? Was it good?" I asked excitedly and almost jumped inside a toilet. " Yeah pretty high," said he. " Really? It means...?" I asked for confirmation.Yes! I got into the next round for Fulbright Scholarship, you know, the scholarship for the brightest people on earth. The next round is an oral interview.Nah I don't expect too high. After all, I am not that so bright. I am just going to give by best shot and see how it goes. As the say goes " Hope for the best but expect the worst." I bear that in mind.
Thursday, June 28, 2007
Why the sky is cloudy today?
Blame it on the rain. Blame it on melting ice. Blame it on uncollected rubish. Blame it on motion sickness. Blame it on workload. Blame it on...I get agitated easily and I start to worry about it. I get angry and annoyed all the time and I don't know why. And my emotions always get the best of me. I couldn't find the key and shouted angrily at the guy who was supposed to have it for me to open the studio for training. I got annoyed with my brother when he forgot to deposite rubish in front of our house for collection. I got agitated by my driver when he was late to pick me up. Where does this mood swing come from? From heat? From long journey I took? From tragic news I received about friend who raped and killed his girl? From my family members whom I sent money to but scolded at me for letting my other family members know about it? From my failure of getting accepted from AusAid Scholarship?....I can't concentrate with my work. I can't eat. I can't sleep. I can't interact with the world...I avoid my family members. I avoid my housemate. I avoid my friends....This is bad.
Wednesday, June 27, 2007
I'm back!
I forgot my password to access my very own blog so I couldn't update it. Now I'm back and in Xiengkhouang, Laos.
It's been almost a year since my last post. Time really flies, doesn't it?
It's been almost a year since my last post. Time really flies, doesn't it?
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