Yes, it is a good thing. But back then there was something called 'latihan books' and past year papers. Now? Zilch, zero. One of the cons of being a pioneer batch. So I can't say much about my academic-material absorbance.

Splitting headache going on. But I'll persevere and satiate my blogging quota for the day.

When I'm studying, a mess is a solid evidence of my efforts.


Everybody going all the way..

I don't know if I speak for the rest of the females, but when exams roll around, my physical appearance takes a back seat. I don't have the chance to go out, so why bother doing the oligatory eye brow plucking, pimple healing, hair combing, lip balming, moisturising and armpit shaving procedures? :D


EwWwWww..


One of the things that come hand in hand with scary exams are pimples. In this photo, a pimple sits amidst my forrest of unkempt eyebrows. There's a discolouration around the corners of my eye due to lack of sleep.


A lone pimple sits just below my cheek bone. It's like an eclipse going on what with the mole just a distance away.


A sorry excuse for a pair of lips. The cracks remind me of the dry African lands in a bad bad drought. Wateeerrrrrrrrrrrrr-*hack* *hack*.


This is the obligatory "Fuck It Lah" hairstyle. Everyone in the hostel is wearing it.


I found a whole collection of pimples beneath my bangs.

The must-have eyebags. Ohmygod, my skin is so.....weird. I think it is wrinkles. I'm a young old lady.


After my exams, I promise I'll go for a haircut, redefine my pathetic brows, moisturise my skin and lips, sleep more, eat better....oh, and I'm down with the flu again(hence the red nose).

When I don't have exams, I try my best to look as uncrappy as possible. it's just a matter of combing my hair/straightening it, using some makeup, smiling more etc.


I mean even when I dress up, I'm still not exactly the epitome of RAVISHING BEAUTY *makes hand motions and opens eyes big big*... but at least I look presentable enough and do not get thrown out of establishments and joints, right?:D

But with the way I look now, *scratches places where you should not know about*, erm, where was I, ah yes, yeah, with the way I look now, I'll probably get mistaken for a crazy bag lady.


Hehehe, sorry, miang for awhile.

But my point is that there's such a stark difference between making an effort and the just-fuck-it-lah attitude. I guess that's the thing about being a woman for the rest of us.


And yes, I love my stickybra.  Now that I have exams? Big t-shirts and ratty old spaggetis that do not require the services of my dear stickybra.  

So you see people, to enjoy life, we must have a bit of good and a bit of bad. Yin and Yang. Sometimes the occasions call for the luxury of looking presentable and in other circumstances, we simply cannot afford simple habits such as moisturising and combing one's hair.

I hope I make sense.

We were supposed to be on our best behaviour etc etc. *rolls eyes*.

We asked him, "Dad, what do you mean by best behavior?"
He said, "No dirty jokes."
"Oh,". :(

This is the entrance. I wanted a nicer photo of it but did not have the chance to because I was supposed to be on my 'best behaviour'.


Pretty latterns that hang from the ceiling.


I love the reflection of the latterns on the mirror behind the bar.


Lovely candlelight effect.


The interior of the restaurant. It was still quite early, hence the emptiness.


Candlelight effect~ whoooohoo.


Another shot of a different angle of the interior.


I bought these bracelets for RM5 each from a girl from uni who was selling these as a part time job. See how the plastic glass beads catch the light?


Another one of the interior. Damn it, my camera was set at low exposure and I did not even realise it.


I cannot resist doing this when I see mirrors.


Dad and I taking one together outside.


After helping us to take the shot above, Daniel asked Dad's permission to take one with me. Wahahahaa. Permission? *rolls eyes*


The ingredients to be wrapped in rice paper. That's not lotus at the bottom of the photo. It's banana flower. Yeah, banana flower. And on the upper left hand corner is roasted pork wrapped around a sugarcane.


I've no idea what meat. But it cannot be chicken, what with the bird flu.


I can still taste the sweetness of the meat. It took all of me to resist gnawing at the sugarcane.


Normal veggie soup. One thing about the soups in Vietnam, it's always with loads and loads of pepper. Bleurgggh.

Overall, the food is good. The price range is similiar to TGIF's which is pretty fascinating given the classy interior of the place.


L-r: Dad, Daniel, Dad's client.. damn I have such a lousy memory. Can't remember their surname.. crap.


Group photo with lousy low exposure.
top l-r: Dad, Daniel, Brother
middle l-r: Dad's client, Dad's client's son - Na, Me, Dad's client's younger son- Tre.
bottom l-r: Dad's client's wife, Grandma, Mum


A photo with the Vietnamese boys and my brother.
It's the flash okay, it exaggerates the smallness of my eyes. *fumes*
Na is the older son and is 22 this year, an IT student doing his final year in the University of Canberra. His brother, Tre, is younger than my brother by a year*calculates*, about 16 years old. He has plans to complete his high school education in the United states.

Interesting boys really. The younger one is really sweet but the older one, you have to be slightly careful with your choice of words as he has this ability to give a sarcasm-filled comeback. Mel, Amanda, you'd like to converse with him.

For instance, I made a big big boo boo. I was interested to know where were the dog meat stalls. But I stated clearly, "I just want to take a photograph of a dog meat stall,". Na asked his mother in Vietnamese and then he was explaining which market stocks them etc and then he cut himself off and said, "Oh why are we talking about this over dinner??"


The bamboo-curtained entrance.


After dinner, we took a slow stroll back to the hotel.


I love Christmas decoration!




The dustbin man make spoil.


We went into Saigon Expressions(a boutique I mentioned in an earlier entry) to get dad's and my bro's suits. It was not ready yet. Haha, this was just part of the suit.


My brother was too lazy to come out when my parents, grandmother and I went to the ice-cream parlour that my dad was raving about. It has got such a wrong name.


l-r: dad, Mum, grandma.


Green tea ice cream


A cocktail with ice-cream. Mm.


A gelato concoction of fruits. Is that the word for it?

Everything on the menu was below RM8. In Malaysia, RM8 allows you one miserable scoop of Haagen Daz ice-cream.


Before returning to the hotel, I wanted to take a photo of that faraway white building. But got a picture of a man pointing instead. Still nice, though.

After the war memorial and the handicapped handicraft factory, we went for an authentic vietnamese lunch!


Along the way we saw that infamous Virgin Mary(?) statue that cried recently. It was reported in the papers.


It was Christmas Day and kids everywhere were in this get up.


A Vietnamese boyscout.


Dad placing his orders. I didn't know that waiter was posing for me. Hahahhaa. Dad wanted us to try this thing called Fly Rice. (We thought he mispronounced Fried Rice). It's a rice dish which is cooked in a claypot with various herbs and it is cooked until it is really hard. The claypot will then be cracked upon and the waiter standing at the table will catch the rice with a plate when that hard solid disc of rice is thrown from the kitchen. A good 10 metres away somemore.


My grandmother and mother laughing about the fly rice concept.


The delicious fly rice. I liked it because it was crunchy and salty.


MmMmM!!!


Then there was some tomyam thingie going on which I did not bother to touch.


Prawns in tomato puree!


This is almost like staple among the Vietnamese. They used rice paper to wrap vegetables and meat so it's like a popiah of sorts.


See? Dipped in soya sauce, the result is heavenly. Mmm. Sorry, I've got a salty tongue.


The exterior of the restaurant.


One thing scary about Vietnam is the way they deal with their electrical wirings.

After lunch, Dad and I went walking around the shops outside our hotel while my mum and grandmother slept and my brother shat.(Yes, shat.)


Dad has been telling me about this 'funky looking dental clinic'. O-kay. Here I am, posing for a photo at the clinic.


A typical sidewalk. They like those tiny stools, them Vietnamese. I keep seeing it everywhere. And they love hammocks too, as you'll see later.


Dad posing near an old building.