Narcissism is Necessary

Without work or school, it’s almost stressful to post a single entry for Narcissism is Necessary. It’s getting so bad, I was beginning to toy with the idea of writing about Mom’s pride and joy – her fake plants. I had even taken pictures of them. This is what happen to people, you get carried away and before you know it, you are writing about plastic peonies, enthusiastically.

Nah. Not that desperate yet. But heh, I can’t resist.

This afternoon, while trying to crap, I came to realise that my youngest Aunt is old. 12+12+12 (she’s born in the rooster year) = 36 years old. Oh my gawd. Hit me like a brick. She’s old. That means I’m getting old too. Fucking scary. And then I thought of something to add to my list of resolutions – will not allow chronological age to restrict life. This reminds me of a recent incident.

The other day, while shopping with Mom, the bra lady kept addressing her as my sister. Mom was wearing a flowing sleeveless white dress. She’s hot. So anyway, it got tiring for a while so I corrected the lady about my true relationship with Mom. Needless to say she was shocked and impressed at the same time. Later she whispered to me, “I thought it’s your pregnant sister, your mom does look really young….when is she giving birth?”. I related it to Mom.

Mom taught me something that day. As long as you look 15 years younger, it doesn’t matter whether you look pregnant or not.

Chucked my carkeys in someone’s car and forgot to retrieve them. Stuck at home for the day. Walked to get food for myself. Tosai, 3 roti canai and maggi goreng. Before you judge me, I only had 1 of each. Pretty good gravy.

Watched American Wedding. That’s American Pie 3 for the unenlightened. I cried. And I certainly cracked. It’s a good movie. Stifler – I LOVE STIFLER. I love it when he giggles, the “hehehaha”. Evil, obnoxious and sexy.

Intoxicated (by fermentation of aforementioned food) and dazed (from too much laughing and crying at the same time), I took a nap. Just woke up. Should I whack the leftover roti or wait for you to feed me?

Life is good. when you’re a quintessential bum

Last year, my family bought a house near where we are currently staying. We meant to move in before the end of 2004. It never happened, because the stupid lawyers supposedly misplaced the documents, resulting in a delay of close to 5 months. My dad was particularly to be blamed, being male and all that, refused to call the dumbasses to enquire.

At last, after one too many evil eyes from Mom, he finally did so and boy are we glad. If he hadn’t made that call, we probably will never move in for the dumbasses not only misplaced the documents but have completely forgotten about them. That’s the price to pay for believing in the system.

Most Malaysian businesses are in such form that consumers have to behave in near harassing mode if the latter wants to get real work done. Makes you wonder what really is the missing link? Is it workers’ incompetency, flawed architecture of the system or plain obliviousness? Come on, give me a clue.

So this coming Chinese New Year, instead of entertaining guests on a manicured garden, we would have to make do with our tiny living room. Besides that, I’d have to live with my leaking air-con (which water, by the way have successfully gnawed into the parquet floor) for a couple more months. And also, the pain of refraining from buying nifty home appliances that keep appearing when you least need them.

Anyway, just because we’re going to leave the house doesn’t mean we will celebrate CNY in lesser scale. Am still excited about decorating my house; stapling mock angpows onto plants, hand-making decorative lanterns and hang chains of cards on the walls. Speaking of which, it’s a pity that nowadays people tend to send e-cards than real cards. So bad that I might have to forgo the plan this year. Oh well :(

I’ve found the fuschia bag that goes with my fuschia sandals. Bags and shoes must always match. That’s just the way it is. I honestly believe you could wear anything as long as your bag/shoes match. Even a torn tee and discoloured shorts. Hehehe.

My car is stuffed with leaves. I hate, hate, hate parking my car underneath those damn trees but I’ve got no choice. Damn trees, won’t you shed elsewhere?