Sistering

I want to begin by first establishing that this post is not about self-pity and self-loath.

To bring myself to write again was a challenge, to write about things that I am not proud of is another. The week has been filled with emotional and irrational crying and embarrassing behaviour that I realised that, one of the first steps to change is acknowledging ones wrong.

I haven’t been the best sister.

The recent weeks have been a prime example of that. The number of times I blamed the struggles and sorrows on the people around me, especially those at home, have been through the roof. It’s human nature to blame, the reason “blame games” is familiar in human vocabulary is because of the normality that it has been formed in our lives. What is normal, isn’t always correct.

I tried to imposed my beliefs and dreams on my brother. I couldn’t wrap around the understanding on why he was so different, why it took him so long, why he never had the dreams I had, why couldn’t he snap out of his shit faster, why is it so difficult for him to understand me, but clearly with all the whys… I wasn’t understanding him in the first place.

Through the fights we had, he through me multiple “You will never understand me” phrases. I retaliate with phrases of him not getting my drift that’s why, him being difficult, him not changing. It wasn’t until today when I was told by a friend that in fact, what he said was true, I will never be able to understand him and he may never understand me either.

At this point, I’ve portrayed myself as the most annoying sister in the world. My brother probably vouches that and awards me that title on a daily basis. It’s because my actions portray so, but it was never the intention of my true feelings.

I just want him to be well.

In the end of the day, despite all the cussing and insults we throw at each other and evilness that we continuously invoke from within. I love my brother to death. There has been nightmares of me losing him and I wake in breaking sweat. The fear is real but my reacts come out harsher than my true feelings, my fear provokes the nagginess within me and drives the present wedge between us further and further till there is no tomorrow.

There is no fear in love. But perfect love drives out fear, because fear has to do with punishment. The one who fears is not made perfect in love. 1 John 4:18

Fear is punishing, the punishment so far is the wedge that has been created between us.

For the first 15 years of my life, my brother and I shared a room. The same damn bedroom even through puberty. I was there through some of his worst nightmares and I’m sure he has seen mine. I was there when we illegally created his first Facebook account in our room and we snuck the laptop into our room together.

The enemy and fear has implanted this fear and lie that we were never close. It has wiped the bond and it was the punishment of the fear I had.

Wen,
I know you props will never read this. But know that I love you and that I’m truly sorry for those things. I’m sorry this has happened between us and the hurt that I’ve caused. However I want you to know this, I have never lied to you and never will. The reasons I run is from the fear of you believing other parties and the fear manifested nonetheless. You may never trust me again, you continue to loathe me with God knows what. I will still love you because you are the brother whom I’ve shared the room with till Almaspuri when we finally got our own rooms. You are the only brother I have, I’m sorry I can’t and may never understand you but I will be here as a sister and not a parent/teacher/counsellor. I’m sorry I never listened to your crazy adventures when you wanted me to and I am sorry that I cannot and will not be able to provide you the help that you need from now on.
I want to be just a sister and a sister only from now on. I will be that sister who will be with you through the shittest time, I will be there to create more Facebook accounts and sneaky internet nights like we did back in BU. I’ll just be that. I just want you to be happy. I have been, and will always be your sister.
Truly,
Jie.

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The story of a girl, socially disconnected.

I feel connected but distant at the same time…

She didn’t get it.

It was an engagement party of my friend’s. Easily 40 people were there, 40 people whom I knew.

I’ve come a long way from the girl who never fit into church, the girl who’s nickname was ‘Flowerpot’, the girl who never really spoke up. Though I still struggle with certain aspects, I am now a youth leader in church, choreograph dance items for young girls and interact with their mothers in the church. Clearly not something you will see in my old self or a person who is “disconnected”. I’m not entirely invisible.

I get invited to things now, not everything.. but some things are better than none. I guess in a way you could view it as me finally being “connected”, I wasn’t the unknown “flowerpot” who stands and lurks in the corner. People notice me now, but do I want to be noticed? Is visibility the thing I am striving for in belonging?

But belonging isn’t always visibly identifiable, the most visible people can be the loneliest of souls. Visibility, in my opinion, was never my priority in my life, never has it been, but invisibility was not something I had strived for either, as much as I hated the spotlight. A little acknowledgment would suffice perhaps.

At the party, I was fleeting amongst different groups of conversations, many consisting of the shallowness of life. I mean deep and meaningfuls are reserved for cell groups, I understood if no one wanted to dwell into that.  I wasn’t fussed with content but a sustainable one with less awkwardness would suffice. I found myself walking around the house aimlessly as no group sustained a conversation comfortably enough for me to stay, quite a few times standing at the fringe of a conversation going “so what’s this about?” secretly wishing I could join in. I sound like a sad schoolkid on her first day, but the reality is that I’m 23 and still struggling. There was a lot of Instagram scrolling that day to make myself seem “preoccupied” and texting friends from overseas for the sake of looking “busy”.

I was physically connected but emotionally distant. 

I found myself forced into a group again to make myself connect by spilling the first quote to the girl next to me. She repeated it after me and seem to not understand the meaning behind it. Clearly, it did not make an impact nor spark the slightest concern, as the conversation drifted to the smell of the candles.

Constant walking throughout the house and more awkward scrolls through my phone later, with attempts to find myself to be more physically present and to portray my willingness to connect. I gave up. Maybe I’m just not interesting enough to be sustainable in this party… Cracking lame jokes and inhaling helium just seemed more of like an attention seeking brat.

I found myself leaving the party early and telling the happily engaged couple that I “will see them in church tomorrow”. I didn’t. I didn’t go to church. The less social interaction the better. The less shit I feel about myself on my incapacity to connect.

To say I wasn’t close to tears when driving home was a lie. I did not know how much or what else I could do to improve the anxiety and awkwardness within. I did not know if I could cope in the future requirement of “networking”.

The engagement party was the second social event of the day, with people I see on a weekly basis, at church. Prior to that, I was at a highschool reunion. In the midst of a group of over 50 people, I managed to find the friends I hung out comfortably with at school. I do not see them weekly but they still brought me the sense of belonging and comfort I needed in times of a massive social event.

I guess that’s why they say I can’t meet people at parties. Being socially awkward and anxious is still my biggest weakness, I’ve tried my best to hide it. I make lame jokes and breath in helium to mask my anxiety, I prefer crowded dance floors over small talks to hide the awkwardness in my social prowess. Maybe you don’t put enough effort?

23. Still learning like I did on my first day at school. I’m not a failure, just a bit slow on the uptake. Bear with me… social beings. 

 

Puffy Eyes

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“My face is so puffy it seriously hurts to cry”

I found myself saying that to my friends while clutching my cheeks and jawline to compress the puffiness that was developed from my multiple cry sessions over the weekend.

I don’t how to feel about that. Crying. I mean if you know me, you’ve seen me cry before… from laughing. It’s no secret that I’m that infamous laugh-cry emoji in my friendship groups, sometimes I feel like it’s my only God-given talent in the past 23 years.

But the crying I’m talking about is the sincere fat tears secreted by the tear-ducts from the induced heavy emotions from I-don’t-know-where (and you will tell me – It’s God).  I cry all the time. But let me tell you this, I hate seeing people cry (though it’s changed over the past few years). I don’t know how to react to an emotional person, despite being emotional myself. I don’t know how to comfort them… do I hug you? Do you want me to hug you? What if you don’t want me here? Should I disappear? As a youth leader now, I have essentially improved in this area, or else I will be sincerely fired over being the least empathetic leader ever.

To prevent the same emotions and feelings back to me, I made a point to myself to never public cry, ever. My closest and dearest friends, those I’ve lived with in boarding school, despite wailing myself to sleep some nights, have never seen me cry. Yet I cried like the biggest whack over the weekend at my Young Adults (1830) Camp. Gosh… the amount of times I had to run to the bathroom and people questioning my bladder issues. I mean I do pee a lot, but my visits were abnormally frequent… if you get my drift.

Is it the Internship
Is it God
Is it life
What is it
Do you need to talk

Do I?

Can I honestly tell you… I don’t know why I cried. I’m as confused as ever. Yes, I left a Christian Camp with less clarity and more confusion, how scandalously unholy.

I think half my crying was crying that I can’t stop myself from crying in public and it’s annoying to cry that it made me cry even more because I’m crying.

Yea I may have left camp confused. But I’m not confused with God. No, not ever. I think I left the camp with more curiosity, of what God has in store for me. I mean, yes I’m confused, but tell me and give me a millennial who isn’t confused with their life. They may have it all together but are you seriously that planned out… seriously.

It’s been a couple of days since camp. I’ve received “are you ok?” texts from multiple people who knew of my crying. Here it goes, I’m okay guys. I am. I’m not gonna be the suicidal 19-year-old again. God has sacrificed a life of a family member to teach me the value of life, so no. I will not die. I love life, as challenging and confusing it may be. But that’s the whole excitement of the journey, isn’t it?

I’m 23 now. It really hit me only a few days back despite 19 days into my new age. I’m not young, but I’m not old. I’m not all put together, but I’m strong enough to pick myself up if need be. I’m growing, I have Jesus. I am on the right track. Emotions are part of life, I have to deal with it, regardless how much I hate crying emotionally. It happens.

Cheers to my new age, more infrequent blogging and rants of my life. The blessings, the downfalls, the anger, the love and most of all… the endurance that comes out from the hecticness of it all.

Therefore, since we are surrounded by so great a cloud of witnesses, let us also lay aside every weight, and sin which clings so closely, and let us run with endurance the race that is set before us

Hebrews 12:1

p/s: If you’re an Athiest and wondering why an idiot like me would still believe in God despite the awful emotions and puffiness I have to endure and making my face 10x uglier than it already is… read this.

Rabbit Milk

Does this have rabbit??”

It probably didn’t mean ‘rabbit’ but from my minimal Chinese vocab, I assumed it was rabbit because it sounded like ‘rabbit’, but given the context… it probably wasn’t it.

I was in the supermarket looking at teabags when an old Chinese lady and her husband came up to me holding a bag of Devondale Full Cream milk powder, I was the only Asian in the aisle at the time.

Do you speak Chinese?” – in Mandarin
“a bit”
“can you help us read this?”
“yeah sure…”
“Does this have 兔子?” (tu zi aka rabbit)

Huh?

In Mandarin, the same sounding words can mean a million other things due to the vast number of chinese characters… tu zi could mean anything, but to me I only knew rabbit.

Clearly Devondale Milk isn’t from rabbits so I told her no… She thanked me profusely and walked away with her husband, insisting she was right the first time. My heart sank…

  • I did not know what on earth she was on about
  • I answered her
  • She was happy with my answer
  • I messed up so much but I didn’t know how to say that in Mandarin

I’m of Chinese descent. Born in Melbourne raised in Malaysia and speaking only English at home. My parents don’t know Mandarin themselves. I went to a Chinese school in Malaysia as my parents didn’t want me to repeat their mistakes of not knowing Mandarin, but ever since moving back to Melbourne… the need for me conversing in Mandarin has reduced and eventually I’ve lost it altogether.

It hit me with a realization walking back from the supermarket

Seeking advice from people who seemingly look like they know it… isn’t right. Representation isn’t everything.

She came to me because of my looks. I’m Asian. I’m meant to know and understand what she is on about. I even thought I did. I clearly did not.

It made me realize that in real life, when I’m seeking people for answers in terms of my spriritual walk or just life in general, they can perceive to know it all, did all the right things… but do they know it. Is it even right.

The importance of picking the right mentor is so important. We could end up in very different paths with the choices we make, either we ended up feeling inspired or driven, or completely confused and down the hill from where we started.

 

Just making my rabbit milk experience applicable to real life. It just made me realize how much I need to pray and seek God during this process of finding a mentor in my life. I do need one and I want one. As much as seeking God for advice is nice, my peers advising me on things that I find it relatable, it would be nice if someone older than me who has that actual wisdom I can learn from is present. Someone other than my parent, someone I know that she/he will be right and be on my side. My peers are lovely and I love them to bits, but as much as our experiences are relatable and we can share it with each other, we are of the same generation and we can only know so much.

Praying I won’t get Rabbit Milk.

Of course I won’t… I have Jesus.

 

The Quest

Note: Fungus is the name of the youth group I serve in. It’s Fun, Us with God in the middle hence funGus. No judgement please. It’s not funghi 

“Juanlin made me cry so so much oh my god”

I was in the toilet when I heard one of my youth homegroup members said that, there was a hint of gratefulness too. I don’t think she knew I was inside. We had just finished a night session on the second day of youth camp and I had prayed for her during ministry time and she bawled her eyes out halfway through. She thanked and hugged me after the prayer but I didn’t think she would be talking about it with her friends after it. It was a session where youth were being filled by the holy spirit and emotions were running on a high and we were running out of tissues from all those crying.

This was my first Fungus camp. First time as a leader and I have never even gone to Fungus in my life. Tell me about it, to say I was scared shitless during the lead up to this camp is an understatement. I had a respiratory attack in the morning of the first day of camp to add on to that anxiety.

10 years ago, I attended my first ever youth camp of my life and accepted Christ into my life. Shucks, 10 years… (writing this makes me feel old and it didn’t help when a youth told me I looked 27 during camp).

I knew the importance of youth camps and how life-changing and impactful it can be on a young person’s life due to my personal experience… however, my walk was never uphill ever since my own. I grew to despise youth groups due to my inability to feel belonged in one. Camp was amazing and God was amazing to me but the youth never seemed to love me the way Jesus did so weekly meetings seemed painful, especially when a bunch of people didn’t want to talk to you. The feeling never changed when I moved to Australia (hence I never went to Fungus). I loved Jesus, I hated youth groups. (I had actually hated church in general).

Ironically, 10 years later. I’m a youth leader and I went to a camp as a youth leader and doing the things I use to be skeptical of other youth leaders. 

My 15 year old self will laugh so hard if she hears where I am right now. 

I honestly didn’t know what to expect during the lead up to this camp. My well-hidden anxiety didn’t improve when I was told to lead deco for the camp and being part of the games group. 

I mean seriously, what is this angel & mortal things these fungus kids do. What are skits. Why do they do flags. What are round-robin games. Where is this place called Camp Howqua that everyone has been to and I haven’t and how am I suppose to know how big the place is to design the deco-layout… lol omg.

I had an assignment and test due during the week leading up to camp. I had a number of silent break-downs during shower time and despite the chaos… I heard this silent inaudible voice in the back of my head…

Do you trust Me

I knew Who it was and He was the only one carrying me to prevent me from cracking.

I trust you God. I do.

It was this trust that pulled me through. I knew that He could and He will. He had pulled me through Kids Ministry and Youth Ministry was no difference. 

He showed me this by placing people who were understanding to work with me and guide me. I was blessed enough to have a group of leaders who were supportive of each other as we worked through preparing for this camp. I didn’t even feel like I was leading deco, it felt like it was all done. It was only until the eve of the camp when one of my fellow leaders realized that it would be my first Fungus camp ever (like I didn’t even go to one as a youth, all these leaders have been in Fungus as youths themselves). Apparently, I was heading it up like I knew everything… well I didn’t know a lot of things but God did, true story

Back to where we were, it was ministry time on the second day of camp. Youth were stepping out during alter call to be prayed for, it suddenly dawned on me that I was a leader and I had to pray for these kids.. omgosh I was never the kid that stepped out during alter call, let alone as a young adult. What am I gonna say.. OH GOD PLEASE HELP ME OH MY GOD PLEASE.

Leaders were stepping out to their homegroup members and I saw my girls in front with their arms lifted high in surrender. They were hungry for God. They want more of Him. They want Him.

A mini time-travel began to occur in my head and suddenly I was that 15 year old again. The frustrated 15 year old who disliked youth group and never wanted to go. What did I do. What did I want.

I wanted to be prayed for…. but no one did.

Time for you to pray for these girls. Don’t make them feel like how you did. Make them feel Jesus’ love and your love for them. Let them know that they have a purpose and that they belong. Be the youth leader that you never had as a youth.

Early during the year when I just started being a youth leader, I was enjoying it. I told my friends I liked it, I was there because I think God wants me there. I wanted to work with youth in the future and get into the Youthlaw department for my legal clerkship. Being a youth leader will help my CV and my youth pastor really wanted me to join the ministry anyway. I took those as signs that God wants me there but never knowing the true meaning/calling behind it. I mean remember that time I was torn between leaving kids and joining youth…

That night I knew. Hearing Amanda’s words in the toilet and receiving the little notes of appreciation from my homegroup throughout camp made me truly realize God’s plan for me in this ministry. It made me understand the power of trusting without always knowing what is next and the faith involved with all that. The theme of our youth camp was The Quest and I was on a quest without knowing I was on one and that night ended that subconscious quest of mine as a youth leader.

This is the story of the girl who hated Youth Group. You truly will never know where God brings you next.

I love youth group and I love Fungus.

p/s: I’m in the State Library La Trobe reading room while writing this. Teared a tad bit during my writing and I think the girl next to me thinks I’m a loony LOL.

 

 

 

How to Busan in Winter

I honestly should’ve done this post sooner than later but right after the day I landed back in Melbourne, my trimester started and the uni grind began. I decided to edit the footage I had before leaving it to the last minute.

So here it is, edited 2 weeks ago but shared today…

If you’re someone looking at traveling on a budget without compromise, this will be a little handy for you on the lead up to your trip, if you are planning one. If not, welcome to my rambles on how my friends and I survived our first 3 days in Busan, Korea.

1. Flights

So my friends and I are uni kids on a budget, henceforth budget flying on AirAsia. Crampy seats are the way to go if you’re tight on your cash but you do save heaps considering the service and lack of smiles you get from their air-stewardess. We took night-flights and it stopped over in Kuala Lumpur before heading to Busan. How we survived it? Neckpillows. I can’t stress enough on the importance of a neckpillow if one is to embark on a night flight. Forget about it if you are getting on business class. Your money, your comfort.

2. Transport

0 taxis were used over the 3 days. Plenty of walking and public transport was used (because budget life).
How to get about it
T-money: The Korean  transport card. We bought it from the 7/11 store in the airport and it cost us 2500 won per card. Topping up cash was done at the Gimhae airport train station (we topped up 20000 won). English option was available on the machines too (thank GOD).
Google Maps: Unfortunately and strange enough, Google maps only provides information for public transport. It is helpful as it gives you the names of the stations to get on/off, number of stops, line colours, etc. However, no GPS was available for walking. Lots of estimation was required to walk to our destinations by following the blue dot tracker on the app to our destination. As annoying as it sounds, it’s a much better alternative compared to the paper maps people had to use back in the day.

3. Accommodation

Budget freaks we are again. We used airbnb.
airbnb: A fraction of the amount you would pay for a hotel. Not the place to go if you would like a gym and swimming pool at your disposal (honestly why though… it’s winter). The place was clean and basic utilities all provided, I’m talking from toiletries to washing machine and stove. It’s like your home. However, we took the “towel” description too seriously and came to discover only hand towels were provided. Bringing your own towel is highly recommended if you are to use this. If it’s you first stay, you can get a $30 credit discount with the link.

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Location: We stayed in Seomyeon. 5 mins walk away from Bujeon market and 1 minute walk away from the entrance to the underground shopping mall. Honestly did not realize the magic that Seomyun had to offer until the last day. Shops. Food. Entertainment. WOW. Getting about was easy considering that it had it’s own train stations with multiple exits (we were at exit 15). Reviews have said that it’s known to be a place famous for plastic surgery, true to it’s nature there have been ads of plastic surgeons around the corner but honestly, it has so much more to offer than that.

4. Food

I cannot begin this section. I’ve taken countless of photos and will let them do the talking.

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Jajjangmyeon (Shinsagae Food Court)
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Dolsot BiBimBap (Shinsagae Food Court)
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Kimchi Mandul (Haeundae Market)

 

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Diced Beef Steak, Street food on Nampo District

 

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Flaming the diced Beef

 

 

 

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BingSu, Sulbing – Seomyeon

 

 

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Cotton Candy, Gamcheon Village

 

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Cold Buckwheat Noodles: here

We honestly did not follow any food recommendations. It was fully out of instinct and hunger, with walking into random stores just to replenish ourselves. Suprisingly, nothing was upsetting and I am jealous with the quality of food Koreans in Busan are able to easily access 24/7.

This will be the end of my rambles. Jeju post will be up after my assignments are done.

Do like and subscribe to my youtube channel for more travel videos in the future!

 

 

Lone Pancake Adventures

My Contract law exam is tomorrow, last night… in the midst of panicking and onset exam anxiety (that I still sometimes suffer after years of exams), I procrastinated (like a true student) and discovered that Pancake Parlour’s postcode deal has finally reached me.

It’s a deal where if you live in a particular post code area, you get free food. Free Food. Well just a short stack.

Thing though, there was a catch. It’s from 11pm-6am only. Clearly, when everyone is asleep so chances of wasting precious flour on freebie suckers (like me) is slimmer.

Can I just say, this isn’t my first time freebie hunting/sucking from Pancake Parlour, it’s like the only/closest thing we get to an American 24hr diner besides our drive-through Maccas (McDonalds) and the only place generous enough to accomodate people like me. Currently it’s summer here down under and during the days it hits 30 degrees, you’re entitled freebies before 11.59pm of the day. Days like these, the freebie suckers will be unleashed from within the community and you’ll see PP flocked and flooded with them that you have to queue for seats, because it’s the only time they really get business (or not). I was (obviously) present for most of these freebie deals, along with almost 7-8 of my other friends, who would hog a 10 seat table at the place till midnight, eating/drinking our freebies and leave paying 0 dollars like a true freebie sucker. Shameless.

However, these friends don’t live in my postal code area and the deal hours are so awkward. None of my friends are morning people either and everyone has day jobs so staying late wasn’t an option.

I made a decision to freebie suck alone.

At 5am, my alarm rang. My reflex action was the usual fling-phone-across-the-bed but then…running on 5 hours of sleep… I realized, it’s freebie sucking morning.

After 15 minutes worth of snooze and contemplation, I decided to proceed with my absurd decision and changed my clothes. I had mentioned this to my mum earlier before I slept but it was such an absurd idea she didn’t even bother responding. To wake her and wait for her, the deal would end, so I grabbed my keys, wallet and Contract Law book and left.

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This was the time I arrived. 0 cars in the parking lot. The only inhabitants in the building was 1 chef and a 15 year old looking waitress. This is a stark contrast to all the freebie nights I’ve been at this place.

The waitress asked me if I’d like to start with a coffee. I went straight to the short stack order because there’s 28 minutes left to my deal and I wasn’t going to pay 16 bucks for pancake at 6am in the morning.

But then she returned later after putting in my order and asks, “Are you sure you don’t want me to get you anything to drink?”

Usually I would say no. I’m stingy that way and 7/11 $1 coffees are the way to go for me. But this was the first time I was freebie sucking alone and for some reason, walking out paying absolute zero without my friends was just..baad. So I ordered a latte. I broke my freebie sucking streak coz I felt bad for the waitress working a nightshift and serving a freebie sucking 22 year old.

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The girl made some pretty good coffee. I guess I gave her something to do. Then came the world’s longest 2 minutes of my life.

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It is bigger than you think. On a regular basis, I would share this (I’m a small eater). But clearly I have no one to share with and to leave my plate half finished is a let down to the freebie sucking community, I mean have the decency to finish what you’ve been blessed with.

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I didn’t let down. This is the fastest I’ve finished such a plate, or meal even. I’m like always the last to finish. Then again, I had no one to distract but just me, myself and I.

Tradies were trickling into the place by 5.45am and I was no longer alone. I had 10 minutes left before my deal ends so I decided to go to the counter and pay/redeem my offers.

Guess what, I couldn’t find the offer because Facebook decided to fail on me when I needed it at the counter when it was fine just 10 minutes earlier while I was browsing it on my table.

Waitress asked me for $16. Shucks, 16 bucks for flour and eggs is like food pooped out of royal hens.

Thank God for grace, I told her about the deal and you know what… she actually gave the pancakes free for me. She didn’t even look at my ID to check my postcode. OMG. To be honest, she didn’t even know which postcode had the deal was on. I swear I could’ve been any other lying freebie scum (but I’m not). So I paid $4 for the coffee. It was good coffee but honestly the price was just so hiked I would’ve never ordered it any other day.

The road was still clear like as though my grandfather owned it. I even slowed down to take a shot.

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This is so illegal on so many levels so kids don’t do this when you start driving. Though I must say I’ve done a complete stop in the middle of the road once last year while Pokemon Hunting (the levels of insanity right there), not just any road but Doncaster freakin Road (same road as above), that was at like 12am though. Also, a clear road with nobody. Joyrides.

I officially ended my lone pancake adventures the exact time the deal ended.

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It made me now question if I’m really a morning or a night person. I mean really now…

If anyone were to ask me what is the craziest thing you ever did?

Freebie sucking at Pancake Parlour at 5.30am. Alone.

I need a boyfriend who is willing to do absurd crap like this with me because we’ll either not get along or it’d be absolute fun ahaha..

PSA announcement to all fellow freebie suckers to follow Pancake Parlour’s Facebook page for more free deals. Thank me. you snooze you lose.

God Bless you ❤