It Has Come To This

Either I blog, or I send email
I don't have the juice to do both originally
so here are email excerpts:

"Look at my passport lady,
does it look like I stay anywhere for longer than I can help?
What makes you think I would want to come and
live illegally in your country anyway? There's a whole world to see."
Cow.

Bugger.

Was interrogated til 1am. Then let through. Stupid bitch.
She called London and they said
'"Well if she's educated and there is evidence that she is a writer
(I had written notes over every available surface)
and she has travelled so much, whats the problem?"

Then spent week wondering
if I should take that flight back to Malaysia

But we decided fuck that,
I'll be in and out of Britain visiting/travelling til next June
But next time I will have all documentation.
And my course has now been postphoned to January
which gives me 6 months when I come back from Prague.

Hopefully life may be better then because
maybe by then some sex would have come my way.
Proper documentation at customs may result in me being led
through customs on red carpet or may confuse them so
much that I will be thrown into jail osama-style.
Whoopee! Cant wait to find out.

And now things have calmed down.
NMTP being home means I have no reason to wake up early
(except when girlfriends from M'sia text at 6.45am)
and send YM to school as she likes to play mom

All I have to do is clean the house twice a week,
which when I timed myself,
takes approximately 2 hours and 22 minutes each on Monday and Friday.

The rest of the time I lie in my room and read book after book.

Or like Tuesday night I cooked Yellow Seafood Curry and Thai Fishcakes
and they fell on it like a pack of wolves and told me
"You're never going home!"

Then I told them that Zach told me that
not a single day goes by
as he cooks in someone else's restaurant,
when he doesn't think of his restaurant.
The wall colour, the ambience, the type of food.
And that he wants me on his team.
And then I wrote back and said
"What about my restaurant? I want you on my team".
Then the family here said, "What about our restaurant?"

Sometimes I feel fat and go for a long walk.
Yesterday I took a TWO HOUR WALK along the clifftops.
It was a deserted trail.

On the left was rows and rows of vegetable fields,
on the right a sheer 5 storey drop down the cliff.

I realised if a mentally demented character
would leap out of the berry brambles and assault/rape/push me of the cliffs,
no one would hear my screams and that would
be then end of me.

So I hurriedly whipped out my phone and text someone far far away
and told him where I was and what to do if he didn't hear from me
I was so scared I turned my IPOD off.

Then the path turned downhill and I scrambled down a muddy trail
that took me to the beach which wasn't a beach at all
because it was all pebbles
(or rocks depending on the scope of your vision)
Beaches are supposed to be SAND in my world.

I reasoned that this was less scary
than falling/being pushed off the cliff
and walked ONE hour along the shore to get back to the pier.

Then I came home
and had leeks wrapped in ham with a bechamel sauce for supper.

I suspect this is as adventurous as life will get this week.
Then I had a steaming hot bath and did my blackheads
with that long hooked metal thing that I still don't know the name of.

This is long and rambling and for this I apologise.