What Up, Peeps.
It’s been a long time since I penned an entry stating my still alive existence which doesn’t come in the form of a review. Here’s where I’m supposed to pretend to enjoy life way too much and make a witty joke about the lack of your social life and the active workings of mine, thus ha-ha you star-trek fan virgin loser, etc.
Chill bitches, I know you up in ma’ drive and wishin’ you were me.
The truth is a long and confusing open-ended story, the ending only working out to start a new and unanticipated chapter. It’s the ever-exciting tale of how I gained 10 pounds (I hear the feminine cries of woe and disgust already), come to live in the disarrayed filth I call my room (Is that lump of thing on the floor edible? I’m hungry. It should be edible), and the mess of a life that gradually built up out of nowhere.
Though by mess of a life, I actually mean I’m running out of series to watch and House and Fringe are only starting back in September.
Anyway, instead of writing something new today, I’m trying something new by writing something old. Okay who got confused? If you did, then;
Ha-ha. Retard. :D
Okay this is a blog post about a year ago, when I took an English proficiency test (which some of you come to know as IELTS) before flying to the UK. It was quite the experience, it was. And that’s why I’m writing about it, as opposed to writing about how fluffy the clouds are today or how I lost my favourite blue pen about a year ago. Don’t worry though, those are soon to come.
Anyway, read on while I pick the cookie crumbs off the rug to eat… err… keep my room tidy.
IELTS (International English Language Testing System… I think)
It was the night before. I knew I was supposed to arrive at the centre by 8am so I figured I should sleep really, really early (I sacrificed a fourth viewing of 300 for that, so don’t belittle my effort).
I hadn’t done any preparation for the exam, wasn’t even sure what the hell I’m supposed to do, bring with me, how long it would take or even the exam rules. At least though, I mused, I would come equipped with a well-rested mind, if not well-informed.
So lights out at 11pm it is.
I woke up the next morning to the sound of… well, actually, nothing. I slept through my alarm that was set at 6am, 6.30am and 7.15am. The morning sun assaulted my half-opened eyes and I lazily stretched in bed, open to the comfortable suggestion of the comforter, pillow and mattress while dredging up some more sleeping hours before I sat up abruptly after remembering something just somewhat, somehow, relatively important;
I had an exam I paid RM530 for today.
I looked to the clock on the wall (as opposed to being on the floor or ceiling, I guess) and saw the time on the artistic grandeur of my RM5 Jusco wall clock..
It was 7.50am.
I suppose I was late.
I jumped from the covers, rushed to the bathroom, brushed my teeth (well you can say it was more of committing gum-bleeding suicide with the rushed and murderous strokes of the potent toothbrush bristles) and took the first shirt I saw on the floor in front of me (clean, I assure you. Mopped the floors just the week before). Somehow, I also managed to be the first person in the world to get bruises from putting on pants, pocketed my wallet and off I went.
Once I was on the small driveway leading to the main road, I suddenly had the awakening to become the most religious zealot on earth, supplicating to God and apologising deeply for I was so negligent of Him before. My earnest and calm prayer went like this;
“Dear God… taxi taxi TAXI!!!”
Sure enough, the moment I stepped onto the main road, a conspicuously yellow-painted carriage from heaven fell from the sky to whisk me to safety.
Okay, maybe it arrived in a less dramatic (and fantasy-like) way, but still…
I half-mangled the door as I forcibly opened it, jumped in and elegantly barked at the cab driver, telling him my destination. I had to repeat it a second time though, since he looked at me the first time with confusion and partial-shock docking his face.
Probably too dazzled by how composed I was.
It was a 3 minutes ride, and when he came to a stop few feet from the centre, I threw all that was left in my wallet at him.
I’m not regretful that I probably gave him too much of a tip (Didn’t even get to sound extra cool and generous while saying “Keep the change, my good fellow” and shrugging my shoulders in a display of impotent coolness and munificence), but thankful that I still kept a sound mind not to throw the whole wallet.
God was with me the whole way.
I ran to the centre like kittens were chasing me and went immediately up the steps.
Upon the first floor landing of the exam centre, I glanced at the wall-clock they had… and the time was 7.59am, 47 seconds.
Booyah bitches, who da boss?
That’s not the end of it though. When I arrived, I felt weird… incomplete somehow. Like I’d forgotten something very, very important.
I checked the stuff I brought with me; my ID (check), the forms I needed (check) and a face that got out of bed a mere 15 minutes ago (check check check). What could I have possible forgotte– Oh right.
That meant no pens, no pencils, no erasers, nothing. Everyone around me though, had several dozen 2B pencils in their hands. As soon as I stopped panicking and looking like a constipated idiot, I turned to the guy behind me (Who had 3 dozens bundled up, I swear to you) and went;
“Oh gee! We’re using 2B pencils? Can’t we use mechanical pencils? Do I need a pen?! My god what am I going to do…”
He took one sympathetic glance and gave me 4 pencils of his own. I think he was still left with like 6329875 pencils, so it was not a particularly huge sacrifice on his part anyway. Thank god he didn’t bother to see if I actually did bring anything at all either, that kind-hearted idiot.
The exam itself though, was nothing short of dull.
The Listening part was complete bull, and I couldn’t be bothered much with it. I think I dozed off intermittently during the last quarter, too (thanks to the energy-sapping morning excitement).
The Reading exam was finished within half the time because I didn’t want to read it carefully or double check my answers… life’s too short and looking around the exam halls, staring at the odd-shaped head of the lady in front of me seemed like it demanded more attention.
The Writing exam left me with 20 minutes of comfortable head-resting-against-arm position as I was too lazy to perfect my essay draft or bother with grammar and the trivial things. Like I said, life is short, so that makes sleeping time a lot less.
The reason for not caring was not because I’m confident in my English skillz (It’s still high-school level) but because I needed a mere 6.5 out of a possible 9.0 so… why bother much. A 6.5 SHOULD be possible, my English is (hopefully) at least up to that level since you know, I’m not from Japan or Korea or anything like that.
Anyway, the conclusion to this chapter is brief but essential:
- The cookie crumbs on the floor were NOT edible… and nor were they cookie crumbs at all but let’s move on;
- Don’t ask me if I showered;
- The religious zealot thing didn’t stick. It only lasted the 10 seconds until the taxi arrived. Taxis must be the power tools of hell.
- I passed.