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I’m not sure why, but I was more emotionally affected by last week’s Australian Story than I was attending grandpa’s funeral. I saw the repeat of last week’s episode ‘Since Adam was a Boy’ on Saturday and afterwoods was in quiet a depressed mood for all of the day. It’s a good story however, and unlike the countless gay movies I’ve seen, it doesn’t end in tragedy. The real gay cowboy is real eye candy too. I so want to get to know conservative country people now.

The funeral on Sunday was close to one big cockup. I was the only one who didn’t come dressed in black, so I stood out like a sore thumb from the start. My mum then got too emotional to think rationally, embarrassed me in front of people who I haven’t seen in years by requesting that I say something about grandad, when she knows perfectly well I barely know enough Chinese to say something meaningful. There were so many prayers and hymns sung by the Buddhist nuns that it drowned all of our sorrows. Everyone who was quite teary before looked like they could crack a joke or two afterwards. By the time we got to cemetery to burry the guy, it was raining buckets and the singing continued. If it’s anything I’ve learnt from attending the first funeral ever, it’s never to attend an Asian funeral again. People can’t begin to grieve in their own way or say goodbye properly, because everyone is too busy practising weird traditions which don’t help people move on emotionally with their loss.