Stupid Cinema People

Ok, I haven't been ranting here for a while - I had something that was super annoying me in the cinema the other day but I couldn't be bothered blogging about it.  Another annoying occurrence happened the other day again at Hoyts too, so hell, I'm going to bitch about it!


Story One


MerlinFan and I went to watch Wrath of the Titans the other day at Hoyts.  We were sitting at J8 and J9, and you know the row letters are actually stuck on the steps beside each row of seats.  Anyways, obviously there were a couple of steps next to each row, so we headed into the row which we thought was J.


We were early, and not long after, a couple in their 30s (looked like) came in from the other side of the row and sat down next to us.  They said nothing, as if everything was all normal, but let's just call them Dumb and Dumber (yes, I mean stupid dumb and mute dumb).  Miss Dumb sat next to me and Mr Dumber sat on her other side.


A few minutes later, another couple came in, looked at their seat numbers and told Dumb and Dumber "excuse me, but you're in our seats."


Mr Dumber turned to MerlinFan and I with this super accusing look, and told the second couple pointedly, "well, these guys are in our seats too."


Excuse me, if you thought we were in your seats, why didn't you say so before?  I just find that bloody annoying - you have a mouth, you're not mute, is it so hard to just open your mouth and ask?  You've been sitting there for 10 minutes thinking we're in your seats and you said nothing?  If you're in the right seat, no one would hesitate to apologise for being in your rightful seat, dumbass.  It sure comes across much politer than suddenly turning around and accusing someone of being in their seat (as if we did it on purposely and don't wanna leave or something).  I was SOOO tempted to give him a 'What is wrong with you???' look, and say "Why didn't you say so in the first place?"


Anyway, Mr Dumber went on to say, "Well, we're in seat blah blah, here, I'll show you my tickets"  as if we were the bad guys stealing their seats.


I don't f@*&ing care about your stupid tickets.  Anyway, I, still being a nice citizen and not so ai-chwoi-su, told him my seat numbers and got up for him and checked the row numbers and stuff again (see, acknowledging that I could be in the wrong seats while he just sat there fat ass and all with his dumb girlfriend) and turns out we were in the wrong row, since the row letters were put on the stairs in the back of each row, not the front, so there were a few other people who were moving around that day because they sat in the wrong row.

Anyways, MerlinFan and I moved, and as I got out of my seat, some of the popcorn fell out from the bucket and spilt onto Miss Dumb's new seat. I just pretended I didn't see and walked off.  Honestly, I couldn't be bothered apologising to stupid people.  So we were in the wrong seats, but the point is if you think someone's in your seat, you should have said so in the first place instead of sitting down mutely and then waiting till someone chases you out of their seats to accuse someone else of stealing your seats. (So iau-kwui again... we were wondering why the seats were off centre instead of in the middle like the guy who we bought the tickets from told us). 


And what if the lights were already out and the movie already started?  Maybe it would be all right for you to just shift one seat over, but if it was a full cinema, you would have made it a hell lot more inconvenient for everyone else to get up and start looking for seats in the dark.  Congrats to Miss Dumb for being dumb and having a boyfriend that was even Dumber and super chivalrous, afraid to ask people to check their seat numbers.  Cinemas have assigned seats for a good reason, dude.  Why, do you think I'm going to beat you up?  Throw popcorn at you?  Shove my choctop ice-cream down your throat?  Please.


And that was the story of Dumb and Dumber.


Story Two


Story two was when Aunt S asked me to watch The Hunger Games with her.  Yes, the Hunger Games = lots of teens and tweens.


Anyways there was a bunch of teens sitting behind us - I don't know if they were high school kids or international students, but the girl sitting behind Aunt S was PT, so let's call her PT.  Anyway, halfway through the movie, Aunt S suddenly moved forward, then turned around and stared at them.  Then she got up and moved into the empty seat on my other side.  PT and her dumb friends just giggled aggravatingly.


I asked her what was wrong, and she said the annoying girl, PT behind her kept kicking and kneeing the back of her chair.  Not only that, but she had her foot on the head of the chair, and Aunt S said her feet bloody stank!!!


SICK!


Aunt S said she was soooo tempted to turn around and tell her off, but she didn't.  (Damn, I sooo wished she did, for she can be super nitpicky and crazy sometimes! :P) As we left the theatre, PT was standing around with her friends, giggling air-headily, and Aunt S said she almost wanted to say to her "Your feet stink!"


Gross.  Some people are SUPER inconsiderate - not only did you think you can put your feet up on other people's chair and kick the back of people's chairs, you also can't afford to wash your own feet.

Life As A Maid

I've said in my last post that since returning to Melbourne, I have taken up a full time (unpaid) job as a maid.  Yes, please call me kakak.

Damon pissed on our comforter and bed this morning at about 4.30am after refusing to use his new upgraded Litter Kwitter dish.  Woo-hoo... fan-bloody-tastic.

Anyways, Ahimi and I quarantined Pissy Paws Damon in the bathroom while we stripped the bed.  I started washing the pissy part of the massive, heavy comforter and the mattress liner in the bathtub and Mil loaded the bed sheet and comforter cover into the laundry.

Damon is mewing his head off because he doesn't like being left alone in the bathroom.  I ask Ahimi if she will clean the mattress bit that has pee on it and she is super reluctant, says "but I don't know where the spot is." (Umm... the wet patch?  Duh)  Fine, whatever, too early in the morning to argue.  I know Princess Ahimi doesn't like washing floors or giving Damon a bath ("It's your cat" she would say, and yes, I have no problem there, but just for amusement's sake, see Index below) so I tell her I'm going to do that too, if she'll take over soaking the comforter and mattress liner.  Princess gives me the stink eye again, looking super unwilling, saying "Which part is it?  What have you done?"

Good grief.  I just tell her which parts I've washed and go off to shower Damon and desanitise the bathroom floor with all the pissy paw prints.  After that I try to make adjustments to Damon's toilet - I am greeted by a sour-faced Ahimi saying "The wet quilt is too heavy, you HAVE to help me."

So I drop my stuff to come and help her, but guess what???  As soon as I stepped in the bathtub, Ahimi leaves and refuses to help, claiming she already washed it, now it's my turn to rinse it even though she told me it was too heavy so she needed two people to lift it.  Great, so you can't do it alone but I can.  Super.  I have been seriously duped.  (Like the laundry a few weeks ago - asking me to "get started" with the five loads of laundry while she went for driving (which I stupidly did), then coming home and plopping down in front of her iPad and not lifting a finger to help even though I still had 2 loads to rinse and hang dry.  So yes, Ahimi, in case you were planning of accusing me of "offering" to do the laundry too, you KNOW that is so not true).

Fun, fun, fun.  So after first-washing the comforter and mattress liner, then giving Damon a bath and desanitising the bathroom floor, I rinsed out the back-breakingly heavy, soaked comforter and mattress liner while Ahimi is playing with her iPad in the living room.  I then I trudged into the bathroom and started washing the floors with Dettol.  I go to the bathroom to find towels to wipe the floors to find that Ahimi has locked herself in the outside bathroom and is taking a leisurely shower (with the rinsed comforter and mattress liner in the tub and getting showered and wet again with her gross shower water).  Nice.

Finally, I am done at 8.15am.  I feel too pissed off to sleep, so I sit in front of my laptop and blog.  Damon, Mr Pissy Pants, comes and sits in front of me purring, expecting Damon time after being "ignored" while I was washing and cleaning.  Sigh, Damon, you are just too cute and too sweet... I give him a hug and cuddles and he falls asleep as always hugging my arm.

Index:

Ahimi's ridiculous roommate agreement

- Ahimi wrote this bizarre little document (inspired by Big Bang Theory Sheldon's roommate agreement and just as ludicrous) about the dos and don'ts of owning a kitty a couple of weeks after we got Damon (yes, I was working full time, left the house at 5.30am and got home at 7.30pm OR left for work at 12pm and got home at 1.30AM, but that was just for a month before my contract ended and I started to work part-time).  I made it through only halfway and it was just so laughable and hypocritical and describing herself that I just stopped reading altogether... the one extract that stayed in my mind for its hippo-criticalism is this:

"I am not OBLIGED to clean cat shit as you are forgetting he is YOUR cat as you wanted. Just like you get first dibs on the "good stuff" like telling everybody the good news that he is your cat, you also get first dibs on the bad like litter duty."

Of course you're not.  But when I'm at work, feel free to let him run around with poopy pants as you wait for me to come home and clean it.  Chi-si.  You're at home, I'm not - am I supposed to take a train for 1 hr home to clean his butt?  Don't even make sense.

Um... I DIDN'T get the first dibs on telling anyone the good news (in case she forgot) because she already told every mutual friend we have that I was buying a cat, his colour etc etc until I also have nothing to tell anyone else (of course until I told her I was annoyed, for I didn't want to jump the gun and tell everyone until I actually GOT him!).  So... according to the agreement, does that mean you get first dibs on litter duty too? XP

Not My Day

This post was previously published in my personal blog, but I decided I didn't want crap negative shit in my happy blog, so I moved it here instead.


Have you ever had days where everything just seems to go wrong?  It's like the first wrong thing of the day triggers off a chain of unfortunate events that just keeps coming... yesterday was just one of those days.

It started off with me going for my routine 6 monthly blood test.  Bad idea to go on a Monday and at lunchtime - after riding on the tram for 30 mins, I had to wait over half an hour to get a measly blood test done.  Not only that, but I got a student (now I really don't mind students because I'm not needle phobic and we all got to learn sometime, right?  And it was quite amusing too LOL)  But I knew at once he put on the tourniquet too loose (his supervisor was there and he showed her, who said it was fine, so I decided not to say anything) anyways, guess what, he missed cos the tourniquet had unravelled on its own and of course the vein went flat... and his supervisor couldn't salvage that either.  I told them politely "you can try the other arm if you like" which they pounced on immediately  @_@

I had time to do a bit of food blogging, then it was time to start on dinner.  I had intended to make chicken pie liaw (chicken pie filling - which was usually with steamed chicken, potatoes, onion and carrots but today I was making it without carrots as Princess Ahimi doesn't like carrots).  Anyway, yesterday when Aunt S heard I was trying to make chicken pie liaw for the first time (yes, I've never made it before) she said she was interested in coming after work for dinner to taste it.  So okay, I decided to make enough for three.

As I put the chicken into the steamer, I started to chop up the potatoes and onions.  OMG!!!  Seriously where were all the sharp knives in the kitchen?  Super blunt and I felt like I was chopping the potato savagely like a wood-cutter with a butter knife  @_@  I was getting nowhere - so bloody slow and the chicken was already almost done - I asked Princess Ahimi to come and help me chop the onions but of course, in true Princess style, she just ignored me and went back to playing her computer (yalah, as usual, cannot help but can eat). Damon tried generously to help (actually is just want to eat lah!) but smelt the onions and sneezed twice!!!  LOL poor thing.

While I was stuck with super slimy potato and stinky onion wet hands, the phone started ringing and I called for Ahimi to help answer it, but of course, yet again, in true Princess style (bless her chilly heart), she just refused to answer and made me have to go wash my hands and pick up the phone like 'kakak' a.k.a servant.  Of course, it had to be Aunt S saying she wasn't coming after all cos too tired after work - fine, too sian to care... at least now I don't have to rush and Damon can have extra chicken treats.

The only thing that came out perfectly I would have to say is the two steamed chicken Marylands (thighs for our chicken pie liaw, and drums for Damon's treats).  Really juicy and plump, and had lots of chicken soup.  I was proud of myself :)

Steamed chicken in super old fashioned tin- cut open to make sure it's cooked through (no salmonella please!)

Now for cooking the potatoes and onions.  For some weird reason, I thought they had to be steamed for 25 mins instead of 10-15 mins (lost in translation) after asking my Aunt J in Kuching over the phone the night before.  (Keep in mind too, whilst juggling the chicken and the chopping with dirty hands I was also messaging Kuching for advice!!!  And no answer for so long so okloh, I thought 25 mins was correct so I left it on and started peeling the chicken).

Before

Meanwhile Damon was going so crazy over the smell that I gave him some steamed chicken treats and his beef dinner.  After about 20 mins, I decided to just open the lid on the potatoes and see how they were going and SHIT!!!!  The bottom bits of the onions and potatoes were chau-tar!!! 

After

<String of expletives>

Now I know how the contestants in Masterchef and My Kitchen Rules must feel when their precious food gets burnt to a cinder!  And yes, thanks, now I got the sms from Kuching saying “no, cook the potato and onion for 10-15 mins.”  Grrrreeeeat <Tony the Tiger impersonation>

Anyway, I couldn’t be bothered redoing it all by myself, so I scooped out the good bits (most of it was useable except the bottom and sides), threw them in with the chicken, chicken soup and then the tinned condensed chicken soup.

Motherf&*#@r!!!  I hate tin cans that I have to peel the cover off – always gets stuck and feel like it’s gonna slice my finger off.  So I get Ahimi to literally lift a finger and do an itsy bitsy part in our dinner cooking by bringing the can – she refused to get her ass off her chair – and putting it right in front of her so all she has to do is pull with a finger.  Thanks, that was ALOT of help.

This is the overall outcome:

I thought it tasted okay – my steamed chicken was really nice and juicy and the potatoes soft and the soup had a chicken flavour from the steamed chicken that had so much juice.  So I call Ahimi and say I’m done and going to eat now.  She does not bother coming out to eat with me… instead after I’m finished eating over half an hour later, she strolls out casually for My Kitchen Rules at 7.30pm.  Nice.  And the only comment she made when she tasted the chicken pie liaw was “It’s so no taste.  Not like the one Mama and Aunt J makes the condensed soup taste is really strong.  Did you add something else to it?”

Thank you.  That is so nice of you.  And yes, she also sat down, guzzled down my lemon squash and left drops of soup all over the table for me to clean.  Nothing like having a twin like Ahimi to make you feel unappreciated and “why do I even bother.”

The night didn’t end there… there overflowing dishes to be washed (from this morning too) and I spent almost an hour scrubbing the burnt bottom of the pot, which is still dirty, BTW, while Ahimi sat watching TV and eating rock melon.  Nightmare.  This is also on the background of doing loads of laundry, emptying the rubbish bins in the apartment (which I’ve been doing and I swear I’ve only seen Ahimi do once since I came back a month ago), washing the both toilets and vacuuming/ “rubbing” the carpet twice a week (when Ahimi is balding and leaving balls of hair everywhere Ringu style).  Hey, we’re supposed to be sisters and equals, man, not princess and maid!  Play your part, man, we have no servants in this house!

My conclusion for the night was – I will die before I ever become:

1. Chef (at least they have fame and fortune)

2. Kakak/ maid (at least get paid for it lah!)

3. Housewife (ya, I will die first)

Then I see Damon running to the toilet and get a feeling he needs to use the loo.

I had upgraded Damon’s Litter Kwitter to the 2nd stage with a hole in it, and he had already peed in the morning in the old loo, so he usually wouldn’t go again until after dinner.  So armed, with treats, I went in with him.

The end of the story is that Damon finally peed (into the pan and not into the toilet, despite me positioning him so carefully!) and when he jumped off the toilet, he managed to shower the toilet seat, the floor and me with pee.  Thanks, Damon.  Exactly what I needed.

So I spent the next TWO hours in the toilet with Damon waiting for him to take a dump, which he just refused.  A bit of scratching and sniffing around, but no action.  So I finally let us both out at 1am 0_0 to fill his water and food bowls that I didn’t manage to earlier because I had been too busy.

And wow!  While I was taking his water bowl to the sink, my hand accidentally bumps the tap lever and out shoots a strong jet of tap water that bounces off a dish and fountains right into the drying rack, onto the dishes I had washed and dried, flooding the tray underneath it and also the dishrag under it!!!!  F@%# me – it was a disaster!!!

And as I scrambled to dry it, I turn around to see Damon jumping onto the dinner table!!!  NOOOO!!!  <scream of pure terror from germ phobic self>  I look for some sanitary wipes and bloody hell – the last one had snapped off and the next piece was stuck inside and the lid of the stupid contraption was IMPOSSIBLE to open.  Yup – did not budge!  It was just one of those days where you feel everything is lined up to make you truly khi-siaw...  I rushed to the table in the corridor to find the same thing with the other two in the hall.  Tulanlah!

After finally finding an opened pack of sanitizer wipes (and BTW the stupid zip lock bag the box was in just refused to zip and lock thank you very much) I wiped down the table.  Phew!  And as I bring Damon’s water bowl to his cosy eating corner (under our dining table LOL) I noticed something out of the ordinary.  What was that?  Something brown and crumpled, stuck between the wall and the transparent table cover.  I crawl in under the table and lean closer, frowning (like the stupid guy who saw the scarabs in The Mummy) and…

AAAAHHHHH!!!! <old fashioned horror movie scream>

It’s a SPIIIIIIEEEEE-DER!!!!  AAAAAHHHHHH!!!!!

F*^% me man!!!!  Now you might think what’s the big deal, it’s just a stupid spider, but to an arachnophobic freak it’s a HUGE deal!!!  Of all the disgusting things… I grab a kitchen wipe and sanitizer wipe – thought twice about it (it wasn’t your everyday soft spider, but the kinda hard looking and shell-like kind) and wrapped the kitchen wipe around a slipper and hit the arachnid with enough force to punch through the wall.

EW.  The spider was squashed and left a generous splat of brown spider juice on my wall.  Sick.  Left me feeling so gross and icky and hoping there wasn’t more where it came from.

Finally, at 1.30am, I went to shower and change my pissy clothes and crawled into bed, exhausted.

It was seriously, seriously not my day.