Second entry: The date – The complete guide to terrible dates.

Alice The Daily, Stories, Uncategorized

I’m way over due with the updates on my first date so I will keep the intro short and straight to the point. Not very me-like but we just have to do it. I would title this something a bit more different if I had time to sit down comfortably and wrote this right after the date or even the day after. But now, it’s been a few days later and my perspective have changed completely. I’m glad that I actually had a bit of time to reflect to come out with the most insightful guide.

Briefly on the story.

When I planned the date, I totally forgot we would have a work function that same day which would involve drinking. I thought to myself “Oh for God sake, 7pm. Guess I will have to stick around the office pretending I’m working until 6.30. Then put on a bit more make up, fixing my hair. Then casually make my way to the bar.” However, with the work function, things got dragged out. And I ended up heading to the date in a rush. The only thing I could do to prep myself was a quick trip to the toilet before marathon-ing my way to the train station. In a late autumn night, I felt sweat crept down my back and my hair got blown crazy in the cold wind. My head was pounding with “I’m late. I’m late. Alice, don’t be late.” I’m a person with good moral and principle anyways. So even though with a test like this, I was not conscious but allowed myself to freak out about timing. Guess after all, the heartless chicken Alice still wants to be a half decent human being.

Most of the time, I  would freak out and over thinking and over analysing everything. And things always ended up worse than it actually is. I would feel so nervous and unprepared and sheepish. But this time, since I did not set an expectation and I knew deep down this is all up for a wordpress post later, I was as calm as I ever could be. In contradiction with my thoughts, (the thought of this seem-not-too-keen guy would show up late, or even forgot we had a date, and I would awkwardly sit at a table by myself, sending messages on the app in hopelessness, or I would take control over the situation and walked in confidently, ordered a table for 2 and sat there waiting with a smile (badass-ly confident one of course!) I saw vaguely across the street, in front of the bar, a guy in a black jacket, leaning against the wall, waiting.

“He seems taller than his pics!” I thought to myself. It was too dark and my dried-out contact lenses did not help. My heels knocking on the pavements made him turn and look.

And I tried putting on this big ass smile!

“Hi!” He walked towards me.

By the end of the hug, my brain registered he was trying to lean in for a *french bisous* while I was bro-hugging him.

After the awkward hug we quickly made our way inside. Again, different from the loud crazy dirty bar I imagined, the place looked empty and quiet. Unreal for a Thursday night in Sydney! We walked around, got a table right in the middle of the room, next to the stage. We started chatting nonstop since. Mostly about work, some meaningless little things here and there, work, work, and more work. I tried putting on my best smiley chatty face. Since that’s the closest to my real self. Often times, I was this moody, bitch-resting face Alice who does not seem to like any sort of human interaction and her soul does not belong on this planet earth. I tried to not be that Alice because people who had met her normally got really confused when they get to meet the cheery Alice. Just trying to save this man soul from all that confusion. We chatted for half an hour and he went to grab the menu. Then we kept talking until the waitress came over, ushing us to actually order food.

I wanted to testing this guy out, so I stayed super neutral in my food option, pulling the “I’m not hungry. I’m fine with anything” kind of response.

“Do you want to half a pizza?” He asked.

“Yea sounds good!”

“You want any drinks?”

“Oh I don’t know. What do YOU feel like? What is your go-to drink?” Again me testing out.

After we decided, he went to order. As an independent women living in the 21st century, I felt a bit odd (if not saying much), sitting there like a useless incapable person needing other people to get them stuffs. I mean basically I can grab the menu myself, AND order my own food but who’s going to watch out for our bags and stuffs if I head to the bar with him. So 1 millisecond after he stood up, I bolted “Oh you can order first and I will order mine later!”

“That’s ok!” Then he quickly walked off.

I sat there a bit dumb-founded. Inexperienced I am, but it was a matter of expectation. I sure did not expect people, man or woman, to ever pay for my own dinner on a date. I’m more than happy to pay the bill. And I would expect to sit at the dinner table, when the check came out, if the guy want to pay, he would politely says “Let’s me get this.” And I would, as a gentle-women would do, gracefully say “Thank you!” *plus bashing my lashes*.

It was just hard to imagine, he (or any guys) come on a date with a clear mindset of “I’m paying”. Can be a western etiquette but it did not feel right. After all he is a stranger, why am I letting him pay?

Took awhile, he got back, we started talking non-sense again until the food come out. Ate, chatted, drank, chatted, laughed, chatted, drank.

“You guess what time is it now?” I asked after had a glance at my phone.

I noticed for the whole course of our “date”, he pull out his phone once to show me his motorbike photo, and not touching or checking it ever since.

“Uhmmm, 8ish?”

“Are you sure?”

“I would say 8.30. 8.30!”


It was 9.30pm. We had been there for 3 hours. I haven’t pull the “oh my friend need me now” act yet.

“How time flies!” He laughed.

We sat and chatted for a bit more until the conversation killed itself and I heard myself hinting “Omg it’s Friday tomorrow. Why do we still have to go to work?”. The he gently asked ” So wanna head for tomorrow?”.

I noticed he did ask multiple times the question of “What do you want?” “How do you want?” “Oh do you want it?”.

Once we’re outside, again his question fell somewhere along those lines and me just being the oblivious Alice.

“Imm head. I’ll be catching the train.”

“I can walk you to the train station?”

He wanted to say something after that but I cut him off.

“Nah nah I’m fine! How are you going home?”

“Oh I normally uber from here. Butttt some days I walked from here to Townhall and home. So..”

“Oh you should order your uber then! The train is only 10mins away so I’m fine!”

“..soo” This time he stayed consistent with what he wanted to say and I couldn’t really cut him off. “..soo I can walk you to the train station..”

“Nah.. I’m..” Then I saw this look on his face waiting for an answer.

It finally rang a bell. What was in my mind was “Oh he’s properly just saying it for the sake of being polite but would flee if I say yes. Oh and he’s properly worried that I’m worried walking alone at night. But I’m fine! And the train is only 10 mins away”

But what he was asking for was maybe a bit more of time, and a bit more of a confirmation “If you let me walk you it’s a yes. If not it’s a no-no and off we split our ways for good.” I’m slow as you can see, AND inexperienced, I heard some of you screaming.

“Oh yea sure. It’s only 10mins away anyways!”


Once we’re at the train station, I was about to blabbing on the “thanks for your time. I need to catch my train. Bye!” But he started telling me about how when he was younger, his brother and him slept outside this train station once. So I had to stand there and listen to the story, while trying to add some giggles here and there to not come up as straight up rude. “I just want to go home!” I heard my thoughts scream.

Ok ok.

“Anyways thanks so much for your time today!” I heard myself almost scream. I was trying to put this to an end.

“No, thank YOU!”

“See you….ah sometimes! hah”.

We hugged and I turned to fled but then he still stood there looking at me like he was waiting for something.

Do I need to say something else? What people normally do? Don’t they just say bye and leave? Oh hah nah, don’t tell me you’re expecting a bit more than an innocent dinner!

Then after the awkward pause, he asked.

“Can I have your phone number? It’s just easier!”

I stood. Paused. Looked at him. And bursted out. ” Yea sure. Because obviously for sure I’m deleting my *dating apps* account! Just not for me”.

Then he swiftly, for the second time of the night, pull out his phone, key in my name and gave it to me.

Hah a samsung user!

Then another hug.

Again I’m way too used to saying see ya to every single one I meet. So here we are, hugging, me blurting out another nonsense see ya.

“See you soon…sometimes!”

Again, for the second time of the night, me felt his stubble on my cheeks of him going in for a bisous and me bro-hugging him.

And I turned and fled!

I got home to no textes. Most of the times when I went out with a guy, he would text me right after and somehow say thanks for the time and stuffs. So I was caught surprise this time. For a whole long day there’s still no text.

This one thought bother me that day, I felt I came off a bit rude-ish so I genuinely wanted to send him a proper thank you message. But then would he take it as me leading him on? There are things I don’t know but for sure I know I don’t like him in a romantic way. I just wanted to put this whole experiment to a polite end. I didn’t text him in the end.


At the bar, 8pm, I was drinking with my friends and my phone buzz.

“Hey how you going?” Read the sender *his name*.

To be cont… 


I will not dig in what he did or did not do like how I did previously in the first entry. But after this date I learnt about myself a little more. And sure found out from some conclusions that is worthy to put in this guide.

  1. Be a decent human. Be the best representative of yourself. A bad date or the person you’re dating can be the worst, that something you don’t have control over. But what you do have is the ability to how you come across. Always be that decent human, no exception.
  2. Be your authentic self. The only thing can be worse than missing out on a very good date is dating someone who you have to masked-on all the time.
  3. Do not expect people to pay for your food. People, or girls, often times forget, paying for someone meals is a nice gesture. It is an option, not an obligation. You don’t own them anything and in return they don’t own you anything that they have to pay for the food you consume.
  4. Do not expect people to be nice, or interesting, or engaging, if you are not doing it yourself. Be the best example of what you want people to reflect off.
  5. Be clear of your intentions. Don’t make false promise for the sake of saying it. This waste everybody time and emotion.

First entry – The complete guide to terrible dates

Alice The Daily, Stories, Uncategorized

People either come up with something genius, or completely horrible when they’re left bored.

And I’m the kind that will come up with the weirdest ideas, that very likely to get me into troubles.

For example, finding inspiration to write up this guide, The Guide to a Bad Date!

People who know me would know how much I love using others’ dating apps. Yes you read it right, OTHERS’S dating apps, not mine. I have never been a fan of dating apps. I don’t have anything against it but I’m just such a terrible texter with attention span falling on negative. Plus, my texts throw people off in ways since it does not convey my expression and emotion the correct way.

For the sake of this experiment, I have downloaded myself a pretty user-friendly, dumb-proved dating app. Woohoo!

And even better, I’ll be going on a date, a first date this coming Thursday. Woo…h..o….whatttt?

Are you really doing this? I heard you’re saying.

Yes I am! I’m doing it and doing it sincerely since I love you guys so much and this sure will be so dang entertaining! My plan is that, I’m going to lock in a date and then write another entry to update you guys on the result of the experiment afterwards.

So here we go, the first entry!

1. Find the one with zero chemistry. 

I have been texting this guy, one message a day for 2 weeks now. Hands down to this moment he’s the least interesting person I have “met” on here. Some conversations I have on here are silly, meaningless, not-going-anywhere kind of conversions. Some are very straight to the point. Some are a bit more flirty. And some are actually good that it kept flowing and kept me interested to know the person behind those texts.

And out of allll of those conversations, this guy is the most un-interesting person I have ever talked to. Straight up I know there’s no spark, no flirty chatty flow. It was just straight up one sentence a day with the same topic throughout this 2 weeks. The topic has nothing to do with my or his interest, hobbies, stand point, nothing! It’s just so neutral that it does not make any senses at all. The only thing we shared is the industry we work in.

Being the talented spy I am, I was able to hunt down all of his relevant information. Seems like he’s a normal, office working guy. Potentially a bit more chubby and less fit than my type. But again, for the sake of this experiment, this is fine.

I think it’s his sense of politeness that still keep me replying to his texts. There’s also a sense of “commitment” since he knows a few people who I work with.

2. Let’s him walk all over you.

On the 10th day or so, he asked if I’m free so he could take me out.

I was asked out by other guys, who I had far more interesting conversations with (some of them are definitely my type). But I somehow was able to reject all those offers. It might be the fear inside me knowing I’m so not ready for the commitment and emotional charge come with those dates. But for this one, I know there’s clearly no spark of interest. So yea, I decided to go on a date with a guy who I’m clearly not interested in the lightest. My gut feeling tells me we would not be a match or even after we meet, I would not find him interesting or any common grounds between us two.

Ok when it comes to locking in a day and time.

I’m a very efficient person. If I’m going to on a date with you, you better lock in a day and time ASAP kind of person. I don’ want no more back and forth and waiting. He seems to have a different idea. He was very slacking on replying my messages. He would still keep the one message per day keep the doctor away treatment. But whenever he replied, he would seem very polite about it and would sorry for his slackness.

Girl, this type of guy is the type you don’t want to date. He’s trying to keep you on the hook. He is not nice, he is not a gentleman. There’s a different between politeness and keeping someone on the hook. Second of all, it’s a big no no if he said something like “Sorry work has been so busy lately”. Nope! No and no! If he wants to reply to your text, he will. And he will do it when he has 2 seconds between breaks, on his way to work, even when he is pooping. “Busy” never is the reason. And to be honest, you don’t work from dust till dawn. Everyone has that few hours me-time before bed that “busy with work” should, again, never, ever, be the excuse. 

3. You know he’s a douche but you’re going for it anyway. 

Back to the story, we’re supposed to meet on Thursday, and he only sent through a bit of info (with me giving a little nudge) today a Tuesday. Again, he’s not efficient enough to me. He sent through name of this bar in the city. I seriously spent time to look it up and it is the most horrible place to ever have a date. I have never been on date before, but I always know what I want, and a kid at 3 would know these common knowledge.

Girl, do not go on a date with guy, who decided to take your first date to a loud crazy run down bar, during this weird is-it-dinner-time-yet-or-should-I-just-drink kind of hour. He did not ask you for your reference or dietary requirements. He did not set a clear bar of if this is a quick get to know drink/coffee, or if this is a full on dinner. Secondly, he clearly does not take into consideration how you two would want to communicate to each other, and not listen to the loud ear-blasting music (if they really call it music there). 

When I told him, if we go there on a Monday, we could have paid for the comedy show that is hosted there. And he was like “Oh I didn’t know they did comedy there.” Mate, the freaking place is called Comedy Lounge! So he clearly did not do any sort of research whatsoever. Then, the story went on with me being confused. Just FYI, at this point I was completed disgusted by the idea of having to go there. In the search result, there’s another place with the similar name. I had this tiniest hope, thinking the second place might be the place he mentioned. It is a fancier, more elegant restaurant with a decent bar. His answer made me confirm this experiment is going to be the most crazy idea I have ever came up with. He finally realized he did not even know the correct name of the place.

Girl, I have nothing else to say here.  

4. Believe the liar. 

Ok, so then, I tried being this very cool person, despite how much I hate that place just by looking at its photos, I tried confirming the date and the time again, with a little nice “I will see you then.” note.

No reply whatttsoever. Nope, nothing. And it wasn’t 11pm or 2am. It was 9pm. I haven’t seen a twenty something adult go to bed at 9am. But you know it might vary from one to another. You never know. I will never know!

On top of all, I just checked my message half an hour ago. At 11pm. I saw he updated his profile with some quirky one liner.

Girl, do not date guys who straight up ignoring your message and keeping his eyes out for other girls while still keeping you on the hook.


This has getting sooo much more interesting, or I would say wayyy more horrible than what I personally normally can tolerate. This date is going to be very interesting. I have this feeling that I would have so much to share with you guys afterwards.

He might stood me up, in the middle of winter. He might bring his friends along (seem like he’s that kind of person). He might even leave right the minute we arrive at the bar. We might not even talk to each other. We might leave after 2 cups of water. I might need to pull the omg sorry my friend need me.

I will keep you guys updated on the outcome of this experiment. Shoot me with all sort of questions or things you want me to ask or do this Thursday. Taking this experiment to another level you know.


To end this, I think it’s important to understand the nature of dating apps, how people use it and what you’re looking for. Whatever I have mentioned above, to some extend are things you or everyone might have come across if you ever used a dating app before. For someone who have not used to this whole scene and the motive is (very) wrong like me, I can reaffirm my perception and decision on not using dating app is so right. None of this whole scene serve my personal values, what I’m looking for in people and human contact. Besides it all, I understand I’m more willing to invest my time, my effort, my mind, my emotion, my perspective into more meaningful causes. My time, my effort, my mind, my emotion, my perspective are all very important to me. 

To all my girl pals out there, I would say the most important thing about dating in this digital age or whatever age is that you need to know what you want, you need to have your own expectations and your own boundaries. This might seem very basic and easy but it’s often times the things we forget trying to find a companion. 


Well-kept tiger and anaconda

Alice The Daily, Stories, The Little Girl Series

“You’re such a strange soul!” – this is people when they don’t want to say “Alice you’re weird!”.

And how can I not be weird when I grow up in a neighbourhood where instead of a sunny-magical-kids-laughing-playing-in-the -front-yards type of area, I lived in a my-nextdoor-keep-an-anaconda-and-a-tiger-as-pet kind of hood.

One afternoon around 3 or 4, as per usual, the only kid that we’re allowed to hang with came over. She stayed for awhile, then before she left, she said.

“You know what, Imma leave now. But tomorrow, let’s go see the anaconda from the house next door. It’s this time around again. He’s going to wash its skin tomorrow.” – She said, with no emotion or whatsoever, as if washing an anaconda is as common as going to the park or walk your dog or brush your teeth.

“What did you say? Anaco-what? That can’t be real!”

“You don’t believe me? Tag along. Oh my god you girls are so clueless.” – Emotional less, poker face, she left the house.

We moved in area when I was two years young but as I mentioned, it’s rather a strange hood so dad didn’t allow us to roam around and talk to random strangers, we spent most of our time at home with people occasionally came over to play in our front yard. Side note, our house had the biggest and most fun front yard of them all back then but I will tell you about this later. We didn’t know much about things happening on the other side of the Red Dirt Road. The Red Dirt Road act like a bridge, made of dirt and rocks that people dump in the middle of this small spring to connect the Upper Hood and the Downer Hood (Obviously, we, the ones who named the hood, are the Upper Hood). Think Panama canal. To most of our parents, everything on the other side of the Red Dirt Road, are the exclusive verdict of “Straight outta Compton”. So that’s why to us, the Upper Hood kids, everything over there are real mysterious and explicit, and exotic, this including the most recent piece of information my friend just dropped: An anaconda living in a house, being washed seasonally, by a weird wealthy man living alone (or not) in a big house, on the other side of The Red Dirt Road. Only a fool would pass that.

So as nerve-wrecking as a kid going to see an anaconda being washed for the first time could be, me, followed the poker face friend, crossing the legendary Red Dirt Road, to witness the horror scene myself since my beloved older sister decided seeing an anaconda was not for her.

The first challenge was the Red Dirt Road. Since this is not a bridge, or even close to one, it’s not supposed to have any human to walk on it. Again, think Panama canal. Unless you work for a circus, which if this the case the whole thing turn a whole lot more entertainment. It’s stiff in the middle of the road, and slope to the sides. You have to keep your balance and walk with skill, putting one one foot in front of the other.

The second challenge was to weave through the crowd of little kids, some climbing up on this big metal gate just so they can have a better view of the animal. I don’t remember how long it took me to finally get close to the gate for a quick look, but I remember my poker face friend voice.

“Woa it’s so fascinating isn’t it. No matter how many times you have seen this. Alice, see I told you. This is no lie. Now we can tell your sister about this. This is mad crazy.”

Then the crowd started to thinning out, by the time I could grab my fingers around the metal frame of the big gate, there was just a big wooden cage, and bags, lots of them, those big black garbage bag, lying next to the cage in his front yard. And no anaconda! No nothing! No! I was disappointed. And sad. And relieve. Mostly relieve. I turned to search for my friend.

“Oi where’s the snake you mentioned? There’s no snake!”

“That snake is in the cage can’t you tell? Did you miss the whole thing?”

At this point I don’t know why but I knew I was about to cry.

“I did not miss a thing!”

“Oh God you did didn’t you? You didn’t see the anaconda didn’t you? While allll the kids here have seen it? Great! Now we have to wait another season. God knows when he’s gonna wash his anaconda again!”


I broke out into tears right there and then. You know a six years old kid can cry if she (or he) want to. Or if she (or he) had to cross the haunting Red Dirt Road to see the anaconda but wasn’t able to even see its tail. A six years old kid totally can. Or, a six years old can cry if she (or he) was scared to dead just by the thought of looking at a real life anaconda ended up did not have to look at all. A six years old kid totally can!

That night no anaconda was discussed in said household. Firstly, the six years-old kid found it hard to explain to her father the need of crossing the banned Red Dirt Road. Secondly, it would be even harder to explain why she was breaking all the rules, sneaking out of the house, crossing the line, to see a dangerous lizard (properly illegally kept), but ended up could not see it.

Later that night when my sister asked me, I humbly and honestly told her about the whole thing.

“Meh it was alright. The anaconda wasn’t even that scary or even bit of fascinating. It’s just a snake after all ya know. Like big. But snake.”



“Dad I won’t be a writer. I will just write and sell books!”

Alice The Daily, Business World, On The Go, Stories, The Little Girl Series, Uncategorized

Dad always said ‘What’s you gonna do if you become a writer? A writer has nothing to feed himself, nothing but his ego.” Of course as a wise business man, he had his own stand and point. And he had the same point about me becoming an artist, a screen writer, a comedian and a TV host.

I love my dad endlessly but as a stubborn child I am, I needed to be proved wrong or else your point is invalid.

My mom loves my painting, my writing, my music, all the little stand up comedy shows I put on. And she loves me becoming a public figure as she once was. So as everyone else in her family. “An MC, yes, that must be you honeyboo. She talks so dang much!” I heard them telling me times to times.

With a pure heart being pulled toward literature and art, I fell into it as natural as it’s my second nature.

I wrote about the most outrageous adventure of this comical but phenomenal boy and his journey from east to west. I wrote about the ways raindrop broke on my front yard’s concrete floor in summer. When I was 9, I promised to my heart I will have a film or a book published. No exception!

I wrote when I was a teenager. But those pages are for the love I did not have, the cute boy in my class, the girls and their cruel plays. I wrote for my broken shaken most lively heart.

I kept on writing in my late teens. I wrote for the night tears blurred my eyes and smudged the pages, of me missing the familiar. I wrote for my heart which was controlled by the the mind of a girl who was trying so hard to grow up.

I have not had any professional training on writing and I believe it’s not necessary as it should be something you’re born with; or without. The only class that considered “professional training” was a creative writing class I took as an elective back in uni. (Which you can read about here). I remember it all vividly. I don’t know if I remember all that because that was the last semester  before I could be done with uni madness or is it because it’s the most captivating class I have ever had. I don’t know if I remember my professor ‘s name because his name is the wrong spelling version of my best friend’s name or is it because he has given me so much hope and validation.

But then after all that, it’s gone quiet…

I have not written for so long. Trust me I tried! I did. I sneaked in a bit of writing between flights. I wrote on trains between trips. At times I wrote to hide the fact that I had nothing else better to do.

I remember the last conversation I had with my colleague, one the the very rare occasion I mentioned my writing. he asked “Oh I didn’t know it was your thing! You write in Vietnamese?”. “I used to long ago but mainly English.” He gave me this look which I can’t describe. It’s a look of a native speaker giving a girl who just, with an accent, said she composed some forms of literature in English.

But none of that, the lack of time, those sorts of common reactions, none of that will diminish the promise I made to myself when I was 9. More than ever I know this is important to me. More than ever I know there’re no better timing than now.


Suit l’amour, l’amour fuit; fuit l’amour, l’amour suit

Alice The Daily, On The Go, Stories, Uncategorized

If you know this famous French phrase, you would know how true it is.

And it applies for every single thing on this planet Earth besides l’amour-love.

I was told to work hard, and dream hard to get what I want but most of the times, when I desperately wanted something, it was never mine. Then poooffs, the moment I turned my back and was like “I’m so done with this sh***. I’m out. Maybe it/he/she is not for me”, the thing I wanted instantly came into my offer.

Problem here is, ironically, in most cases, I already 1. completely moved on 2. found and “engaged” with another options 3. totally had no desire for that thing anymore. Which I then call the iconic wrong timing.

Why timing is so important?

People often say Karma is a b* but I think the real gigantic b* here is wrong timing. Wrong timing and everything right just turn wrong.

We will chat about this on another occasion. Today let’s just pay one whole minute to contemplate how on Earth this Suit l’amour, l’amour fuit; fuit l’amour, l’amour suit thingy is so damn true (at least to my life till this moment).

Guess that’s what you call life. The unexpected unpredictable ever changing life that we are all living. I know it adds spices and all things fun to our boring life but for once for God shake, can it happen in a better timing format?

I hate making decision and this kind of decision is the hardest.

Now I need some time to re-consider the option which was once “all I ever wanted”, now the “why are you even here?”.

Please someone let’s me know you hate this Suit l’amour, l’amour fuit; fuit l’amour, l’amour suit sh* but still kinda love it at the same time as I do. And also, can someone help me explain this illogical saying of not-even-trying humans who came up with it?


For now, bonsoir et au revoir!



Happy Easter Aussie

Alice The Daily, On The Go, Stories, Uncategorized

Today is Easter in Australia. Woohoo!

I had made this plan (aka the plan) real great and adventurous and all for this year Easter.

However plan don’t always go as we, you know, planned. And life is not always perfect.

Thou this time I will not blame on either the nature of plan or life itself, I figured some great of a deal out, learned the hard way and here I am so content in my own chamberrr. (Sorry friends who I bailed on)

What a great pity you gotta spend Easter alone, you might think. But the truth is, for the past 2 months of depression and boredom and hatred, this Easter has been the best days so far.

I feel wholehearted myself again. My crazy, spontaneous, energetic, weird self!

Do you remember those scenes in movies that a bit *aged where the girl dances shamelessly in her pjs with loud music bashing and wine?

Yea that’s me and my well-spent Easter


Plus endless musical session. (I feel real bad for my neighbour who just want a peaceful holiday with their fams. Soz not sozzzz)

tumblr_m2r1shSOLe1qabudj.gif  *I love Emma Stone*

Plus *this*


I don’t think, thou I hope, there will be any Easter that top this. For the rest of the night, I’m thinking of torturing myself again with either Casablanca or Gone with the wind.

Hoping you enjoy your Easter in the best possible way too.

Bye for now

Why I write…

Alice The Daily, My Jam, On The Go, Stories

It’s hard, but sometimes I need to be reminded of why I love writing blogs. I figured I would love going out and drinking and laughing and dancing the night away as much as sitting at home, in my room, by myself, losing tracks of the hours I spend on reading somebody else’s blog.

Youtube is amazing with all the vblogs. You got to look into someone’s life so closely and vividly. In some ways, it is intimate. But after watching those there’s nothing left within me. Not an intriguing thoughts or ideal provoking. I’m back to the life I am living, drowning again in my own thoughts.

But there are this great flair in personal blog. It is like looking deep into someone’s mind. It is like sitting with them and listening to their soft little thoughts. It is like being honest and genuine to each other. Reading blog post is a kind of blessing I think.


Writing has this such power of showing who you really are much better than any social media channels. I knew this girl who looks all flawless and as if she has her life all together, as if she knows what she is doing, as if she is born under a good star that only good things come into her life. Gladly she has a blog. Gladly she writes. Gladly she can prove to the world how much she holds dearly to her heart and not how she wears her hair or how much make-up she has going to uni. (Sadly I doubt anyone knew she wrote or even if she had a blog!)

I always think how funny it is you think you know a person just because “I have her facebook duh”. I won’t go too deep in how misleading and ingenuine social media can be in portraying a person life. Sometimes we do need to be reminded humans are so much more complex. If only a party picture means “extrovert” or full-on all glammed up make up equal to “bossy” then psychologist and scientist are all out of job.

Blogging has never stop amaze me of its power in helping expressing one’s thoughts and ideas, keeping them true to their values, communicating to the world a little more of themselves.

Another great thing of blogging is no matter how long you have left, no matter how rusty you think your writing skills are, no matter how random your content might seem, once you’re back to letting the thoughts out of your head and into the dancing letters, you feel like home, you feel like being heard, you feel you do own a place in this swirling world.

So trust me friends, no matter what, keep on writing. Out there, there are always people who share the way you feel, people who love to read your little meaningless notes, who got inspired or got relief from your writing. This globe is so big, when I was first typing down my blog I could not imagine of the numbers of country where all my readers coming from. Friends, your audience can be that boy who was in your art class, or that girl who stopped by your social media profile and noticed the link, you will never know.

I have 13 drafts storing in and so many racing thoughts and projects to share with you guys. But for now, Happy Easter and Happy Blogging!


Cool kids cheap thrills

Alice The Daily, On The Go, Stories

Earlier, the weather forecast showed 39 degree. It’s fogged up the car’s window where the air-con pointed directly at. It’s 11pm now and the weather had eased down to the good 34 but the heatwave was still unbearable. It’s pitch dark outside at Macca’s parking lot with a few car running pass. Today was Friday. This traffic was considered “crowded” already at this small town.

“Turn the freaking car back! Pick me up! How cruel of you guys to drop me off first hand and go get ice-cream. Unbelievable!”

“We are sorry haha. It’s too late. You’re like 3 minutes late before he finally collected his mind and decided he really wanted ice-cream.”

“I don’t care! Turn. The. Car. Around”- and the girl in army jacket kept whining the words over and over again until they finally pulled right in front of her face.

“Just get in already. Do you know how annoying you are?”

Too frequent, she got used to their spontaneous little night adventures, and of course, her friend’s whining tone too.  And she came to love them and the pickering came to become their girly ritual.

“Get downstair! We’re at your front!”

“Where? I can’t see you guys?”

“I mean, we’re mentally there with you but physically we’re “north”. Oh seeing you two!”

“Seeing your ass! I’m going back up!”

“No no no. We’re like 2 minutes there. Give us two minutes. Stand right where you are!”

“So seriously what are we gonna get?”

“At least tell me where we’re heading! We’re parking at your neighbour driveway for God sake!”

“Keep calm girls! Calm! I am googling!”

“Hkjdfbisfpjf, lala, kafbulff, tuiasaf”

“Is that your neighbour? Goshh girlss, he’s coming out. He’s so coming out!”

“Stop singing that freaking song! Give us some ideas Alice!”

“But I don’t know”

“Hold up! I think I just found a great place!”

“Goshh guyss! We need to leave. NOW!”

It’s  Friday night, girls night out.  They had dinner at a Vietnamese restaurant earlier as their own subtle version of girls night out. Two of the girls had just finished work from the contact centre 3 hours ago. The job, which according to them, should be advertised this way:

“You are young and enthusiastic? Having no money in hand and haven’t hated your life enough? Come to us fresh and we will make sure you come out of your job hating your life so much more that if there’s a bridge in your town, you will surely jump off. Oops and by the way, we are selling material for bridges constructions and housing too. Hit us up on 012-hate my life and never go back”

Sarcastic she knew, “it’s not that bad isn’t it?”. The legendary telemarketing job.

Sitting next to her was another sleepy typical-hardworking-and-ambitious-white-collar-girly. “They’ve just got the new software installed this arvo and I got to figure out how to use it.”

Life of the post graduate kids could seem dull and career-oriented in the most positive way of hopelessness. She watched them grow and as times goes by, she grew with them, passed our naive selves, passed the struggling uni days, and here they were in their car still pickering about the same old things they always did.

Us post graduate kids are not even one third as cool as the cool kids. We own no skateboard. We don’t do funk. I do have a polaroid that cover under 2 layers of dust.



We ain’t no moody, unclear, shady polaroid of kids, of thick denim jacket, heavy dirty black tied boots, tangled hair of waves and that signature what? i don’t care. i don’t give a sh88 look, and of course, in a coolest backdrop of an underground show.



But tonight the moment we were laughing away in our car waiting for the 60 cents ice-cream at the window of Macca drive thru, wondering how the lady working there can get her perfect purple hair, it was nearly as perfect as the nights I had had in my mind of what a cool kid’s night should be.



And for tonight, all we have is the lady and her purple hair at Macca drive thru. One of the girls would say “bleach”. And the other one would ask God why someone would do such sinful thing to their hair. Then we all would laugh at the joke of the last girl telling us about her great aunt losing her hair by bleaching it.

And for tonight, our happiness is as cheap as the 60 cent ice-cream cone.

“This is exactly what Vine famous and Youtuber would do!”

“Totally. Like isn’t getting Macca drive thru at mid night is a must of how to be a cool kid?”

“We are pretty cool aren’t we?”

“Do you even have to ask? It’s obvious”


Nights like this, it makes me miss this city for the days I’m not gonna be here anymore…


* All pictures used in this post are from various source to be credited


At the bus stop, I were staring at the past just across the road.

On The Go, Stories

What’s better than a great theatre? It’s a great theatre that was originally a church from the 19th century!

Wednesday has always been my favourite day of the week. Somehow things can’t never go wrong on Wednesday. And somehow good things always come on a Wednesday. Last Wednesday afternoon, I had something to sort out at Town Hall House.

On a side note, if you’re a first timer in Sydney, you should go check out the impressive small scale Sydney city model. Town Hall House is never a traditional tourist attraction since it functions as a government department and only serious stuffs happen there. (And who would want to visit a place like that during their honeymoon ?!). I have to admit there’s nothing much to do at Town hall House. However if you’re around and have some spare minutes, you will find this little Sydney extremely enchanting (or when you’re lost you can always refer back to this. The most accurate map of Sydney ever!).


The inner city


The iconic Opera House. How cute is that!


And heaps of skyscrapers!!!!!  or is this the model of under construction area(?!) 

Then, here is when the magic happened. After finishing “stuffs” there, I was waiting on a bus to North Sydney. Catching my eyes was this insanely charming and mystified looking church nestle humbly in between the two buildings

FullSizeRender (1).jpg

It reminded me so much of supervillain Gru’s house in Despicable me. Not in a bad way of course. You know what I mean. 

But then my curiosity would stop there if I did not see the leaflet and tickets booth on the right of the church.

“Why would someone sell ticket for a church’s access? That’s so wrong on many levels.”

My eyes once again failed me in identifying useful information. Alice, honey, there is that one big waving sign in yellow orange-ish saying GENESIAN THEATRE. No doubt it’s a theatre!

Genesian Theatre is located at 420 Kent Street, Sydney. With the rather central location, it’s strange that it takes sometime for people to recall the name Genesian when being asked.


I did a bit of research and found out Genesian Theatre Company has operated for 72 years as a company on the site of St John’s Church, which dates from 1868. It has served as both a church and a poor school until 1932 when it became the Kursaal Theatre, housing the Sydney Repertory Company. In 1938 it became the first Matthew Talbot Hostel. Since 1954 it has been the home of The Genesian Theatre Company which was formed in 1944.

How romantic that sounds! If romantic is the right word. For me, any plays or performances take place there will automatically turn out a masterpiece.

It always leaves me wonder and stunned looking at old architects and imagining how people was living back then. Scene after scene come flooding through my eyes of the earlier life of ladies in puffy dresses, and men so polish in their tuxedos.

I can’t wait to drag my friend there for a play (hopefully) in February. And being my best self hyping over things, I will sure write a long post on how emotionally moving my experience there is.

If you have time, go check out the Genesian Theatre and we can be hype together!

For now, happy weekend and happy lunar new year to those who are celebrating it.

Until next time!