It's Christmas!

Well, I'll be off this week, so expect an extremely short hiatus.

Anyway.

I was on the phone with someone this evening, when someone called in. Since I wasn't done with my conversation, I kind of ignored that second call.

Turns out it was my brother calling from Hawaii, right after his mass. It was only a few hours into Christmas Day for him, and he was calling to wish us a merry christmas. Obviously my parents weren't too pleased with me not answering the second line, because heck, THEIR SON WAS CALLING THEM!

Goodness. At 8 p.m. yesterday evening, my brother had already called us once, just like he promised to. And throughout dinner, my dad kept looking at the clock and going, "Eh, still got 15 more minutes." Then later, "Hmm. 5 minutes left." Then a little later, "Eh, past 8 already la. How come he still hasn't called yet?"

Seriously, that phone call was almost the only thing they talked about the entire afternoon. Like, "Eat dinner earlier. Later your brother call."

So when the phone finally rang, my dad practically jumped out of his chair and hurried to the phone. He didn't want his precious son to have to wait, ya know?

Now I know how much a phone call home from a student studying overseas is so very much anticipated. Next time I study abroad, I'll make sure I'll call home every single week. Provided my dad pays for my calls.

But getting to talk to my brother was VERY nice. Apparently, he had "a lot of Christmas gifts", and Christmas was very much celebrated over there. Well I wouldn't be surprised, him being in a Mormon school and all.

He got our hopes real high earlier this year when he told us he would be coming back for Christmas, but then "something came up". Even my cousins were thoroughly disappointed when we went over to our aunt's for Christmas gathering. "Why your brother didn't come back wan.."

Anyway, my turn on the phone with him came after everyone else already had their turns. And when I was done and went back to the dining table, the food were already gone. In fact, the dishes had been cleared, too, save for my plate.

By the way, did I mention we had roast lamb and big bowl of mashed potatoes and gravy and fried giant clams and roasted caramelized baby carrots (which I thought were weird but tasted great) and salad and chocolate dipped cheese sticks (which I also thought were weird, but my sister is weird like that), all home cooked! Add mango sorbet and bottles of sparkling juice, and we've got a near perfect Christmas eve dinner!

Last year my brother made us all go for Christmas eve dinner at church. I say made, and make us sound reluctant, because home cooked Christmas eve roast lamb has always been a tradition for us. It wouldn't feel like Christmas eve if we didn't have roast lamb and potatoes. So it's nice that this year we went back to our tradition.

When my aunt spends Christmas at our place, Christmas eve was even better. We'd have better food, like turkey stuffed with glutinous rice. Delicious. But the best would be when she would bring out this large Christmas pudding, pour wine over it, turn off all the lights in the house, and set fire to the wine-drenched pudding. Beautiful, really. The entire place would be dark, save for the flames of the pudding. The fire would kind of burn the alchohol away, so what would be left is this really sweet taste. Gah. Nice.

Over at our aunt's, we had this Christmas cake, which was basically blueberry cheese cake with "Merry Christmas" piped on top. Apparently my cousin had been so fussy over the cake and the writing, the girl on duty at the confectionary shop actually just shoved the pipe over to him and told him to pipe the words out himself. But the cake was lovely.

Did I mention that Christmas seems so much more celebrated than Chinese New Year? At least, judging by the amount of Christmas-greeting SMSes that were going around on Christmas and Eve. I guess everybody just gets into the Christmas spirit.

So anyway, I've got to go pack. Anticipate my return, people!

Love

I had a few questions since early this year. I hadn't quite gotten the answers, until now.

Well, whatever.

Anyway.

I found out a certain person I know is... homosexual.

Now, I've known this person for a very, VERY long time, and to find out something like that right now is, well, totally unexpected, if not a little shocking.

I have nothing against homosexuals. In fact, I find those who've come out of the closet really courageous, and I salute them.

You know how there's this news going on about legal gay marriages? Some people probably find that outrageous. And I'm sure most of you would be the ones who go, what the heck, it's their life, whatever their sexual orientation, their business la, why should anyone else object to how they live their life?

I was like that. But when someone you know reveals him/herself as homosexual, you still feel that bit of shock.

What more if that person is family.

Or if who you thought was that person's 'best friend' all the while happens to really be his/her, umm, 'guy/girl friend'.

(But let's face it. At one point or another, all of us had wondered if we were homosexual or not.)

Well. I got to meet that certain person's, umm, partner today. He was really anxious when he brought his partner in, that was very obvious.

Everyone was chatting, and both of them were sitting together. Then something kind of hit me.

You know how so-not-easy it is for you to like a guy (assuming you'e a girl) and have the guy to happen to like you too? Not every guy you like would return that same affection back to you, that is a fact. But if you were homosexual, wouldn't it be so so much harder?

Considering the fact that there aren't too many homosexuals around, to find one that you can identify so much with, and to have that person like you also, is probably not too easy. You're so much more lucky than all the other heterosexual couples around.

So, to you-who-I'm-talking-about, I wish you the best. I just wished you'd told me earlier. So this wouldn't be so much of a surprise to me.

All the times you've asked me to "go pak tuo", and I rubber-glue-ed that back to you, and wondered when would YOU start dating, I seriously had NO idea. I had no idea he was your One.

But I'm glad people are mostly acceptive of this, and again, I wish only the utmost best for you.

Everybody, panic!

I'm pretty much screwed right now.

For one thing, I haven't gotten my textbooks from my cousin, I haven't bought school exercise books, my room is still in a complete mess and SO not the environment for conducive SPM studying, I haven't gotten the shelves cleared of my Form 4 books, and I didn't study a THING this entire holiday.

I would be away next week, which pretty much means I've got until this Sunday to finish my pre-Jan 3rd preparations.

Die lah, school reopen only buy exercise books meh?

Gah. Whatever. I'll leave whatever school related worries until after Jan 3rd. Right now I'll just squeeze as much fun as I possibly can out of the remaining week.

If worst comes to worst, I'll just have to nick exercise books off people. At least until I get my own supply.

To be frank though, I'm not too keen on going back to school. One thing that always kept me excited come the beginning of January is guessing 'what class I'll be in' and 'who do I get to be in the same class with'.

It's kind of stupid, but last couple of years ZiHui and I would have bets on which ones of us would be in which class, and with whom. And the stakes would always be packets of RM1 french fries from the school canteen. It's stupid because one year, beginning of Form 3 I think, both of us had the same amount of correct guesses, so I had to buy her the same amount of packets she had to buy me. We canceled each other off, so basically I was spending money on packets of french fries for myself.

This time, the excitement's completely gone. Next year would be exactly like Form 4, only we'll be fifth formers instead.

As I'm blogging this, it's 3 a.m. on Christmas Eve.

And you know what the sad thing is?

We don't even have our Christmas tree up yet. Everyone's just so busy with the house and all (and by 'everyone' I really mean my mom and dad).

The only thing in this house that suggests Christmas is here is that mistletoe thingie on both my sister's and my bedroom doors.

Big sigh.

Well, Happy Holidays everybody! (Because 'Merry Christmas' is just SO offensive!)

I love my posters, and they love me too

I had a tiny argument with my mom because she threw away my Linkin Park poster. Sad, huh?

I have kind of said that my mom throws things away compulsively, haven't I? Well she's done it again. With her reason being that the posters were dirty.

Sigh. She could have wiped the dirt off. She didn't have to throw them away. Or, she could have told ME about it, and I'd wipe the dirt off myself.

Whatever. She just didn't have to throw them away.

Anything that stays with me for a year, chances are it'd have sentimental value to me. I've had almost 40 posters on my wall since years ago, and now she's gone and threw every single one away! I wouldn't really have minded that much if it hadn't included two of my LARGEST, NICEST, BEST QUALITY Linkin Park posters!

They really mean a lot to me. Just like the Backstreet Boys, Linkin Park is another band that has stuck with me when I was younger, and I'd always listen to their albums if I happen to be going through a bad patch, because listening to them was comforting.

Besides, one of them had been bought when I went to that LP concert two years ago. Best night I've ever had, I'd say. I could well be on drugs, because I was so HIGH! I was literally stepping on everyone's shoes!

Gah. I just wished my mom would ASK before she throws my things away. She's done it a whole lot of times before, not asking and all.

Well, bye-bye big beautiful LP poster!

Something stupid to cry over

Relating the details of your dream to someone is almost like torturing them. No one really wants to know what you dreamed last night.

*squeals in a bimbo voice*
But OH last night I had just the weirdest dream! I SO have got to tell you about it!

Okay, so really early this morning, I woke up and heard my own loud sob. I had tear-streaked face, and my nose were somewhat runny. Gawd, I was crying in my sleep.

Realizing I was crying in my sleep wasn't weird. It was what I had been dreaming and crying about that I found strange.

I actually dreamt that someone died. It was, uhh, Marilyn Manson.

I was with this guy friend (not boyfriend) whom I don't really know in real life, and this guy friend of mine is a huge fan of Manson also. We weren't only mere fans, we actually knew Manson on a personal level. (Wah, imagine, Chooiyen and Manson, friends!)

Then one day, Manson DIED. But he had published this book for his fans, and eventhough he was talking to everyone who liked Manson, it felt like it was directed specially to my friend and I. And gosh, were we crying.

I was crying like I had lost my parents. For one thing, he WAS my friend and my favourite artist. For another, I had been looking forward to his new album. It was mostly the fact that I would never get to hear a new Manson song ever again that depressed me. I had locked myself up in a fitting room.

We've not gotten to the weird part yet.

When Manson died, we didn't exactly know what he died of. But from what he had written in his book, it was like he anticipated his death.

So anyway, I woke up, found out my sister had heard my sobs, went and cleaned up my face, looked at the clock, realize it was not time to wake up yet, and went back to sleep.

Then I had another dream, and it was in relation to the first.

I was reading this really old book, and according to it, a person would die if he stood between 24 and 29. I had no idea what that meant.

Then I found out Manson had stood between the sun and the moon. Apparently, the guy had purposely wanted to die so he could donate his body parts to whoever needed them. It wasn't right, random acts of kindness for real-life Manson would be like robbing a bank for us normal people. He just doesn't do it often.

Then it turned out the body parts Manson donated were.. uh, prosthetics. It got a bit freaky then.

But really, it was a VERY vivid dream. I can still recall passages from that old book. Words like "Manson has hast" were particularly highlighted. Plus, they were very cryptic, you had to figure a whole lot out yourself. It was that clear and vivid.
Then I got a stupid SMS that woke me up. I should've switched the phone off when I sleep.

It's just really stupid to be crying over the death of an artist.

But I didn't drool in my sleep. That's a relief.

Okay I PROMISE you I will not bore you with details of my future dreams anymore!

Christmas cheer. Go on, spread it!

Gosh. I just realized something.

I've made a huge promise a few months back, and I have yet to fulfill it. And it makes me feel bad.

I promised Mary Josephine I'd visit her. And I promised her I'll get her a cross and rosaries when I do, because she had been feeling especially down and was asking me for it.

And she promsed she would pray for me.

I feel bad because I had somehow promised her I'll come to see her every month. I didn't quite keep that promise.

What's making it worse is, she did say our visits were what stops her from "jumping into the river". *hint hint nudge nudge*

Eh you guys, get your butt off the couch and do something selfless this holiday!

Gah! I really have GOT to go soon!

Maybe we can go around Christmas. That would probably cheer them up.

You know who I wish would come visit me this Christmas?

My bro.

Speaking over the phone just isn't the same. What's Christmas without the guy who told you the true meaning of Christmas?

I so miss him.

Well anyway, once again, Merry Christmas, all!

Puzzle pieces

Okay, okay. This was one post I had written more than a month ago, but figured it was too eww to publish. But now I've decided that if I were to let a little bit of eww-ness stop me from doing something, I would probably be a failure by the time I grow up. So here it is. Don't gag.

=====

I was channel surfing a couple of hours ago, and came across that Westlife's rendition of 'You Raise Me Up'. I know that song a lot of people like la, but I've never really paid much attention to it.
Until just now.

"You raise me up, to more than I can be."

My gawd how that line got to me.

Then I came online, and saw that post on that blog of that friend of mine. Which I read and teared up over.
There was one teeny tiny line that almost floored me.

"But it never seemed to have that kinda bond the 8 of us shared."
(Haha, that's not copyrighted, is it?)

I admit. People get jealous once in a while. Envy is one seventh of the seven deadly sins. But friends get jealous, you know? Friends never want to see friends go away like that, with a whole other bunch of people. Friends want friends to have a good life, to get to know as many people in the world as they possibly can, no doubt about that, but friends are selfish too, sometimes =)

This reminded me of an essay some person wrote. I don't usually remember random essays of other people, in fact I don't even remember essays that I wrote, but this one, for some reason, stuck to me.

It was an essay on friends and friendship. I've never seen anyone describe friendship like that, but it made a lot of sense when you think about it.

Friends are like jigsaw puzzles. The bits and pieces are put together, and the outcome, a beautiful picture. Like friends. Each individual eventually make up who and what you are right now. And with the absence of even just ONE individual, well, you're left with that blank in your puzzle. It probably would never be complete then. And really, how beautiful can your puzzle be when important pieces are missing?

Anyway, back to Josh Groban's Westlife's song.

"You raise me up, to more that I can be." That line really means something, doesn't it?

'Cause really, how many times have you felt extremely shitty, because you didn't think you were good enough for anything, because you felt like an utter failure, because nobody seemed to pay much attention to you?

I have, more than just once.

And how many times have your friends been there for you, and eventhough the things they say seem a bit silly, and you know some of them aren't even half true, they somehow still seem to make you feel good about yourself once more.

I remember feeling extremely humiliated and unimportant just downright shitty about myself a few months back, and a friend of mine dropped what she was doing right away and stayed with me. By the end of the hour, I felt like I could take on anything again. I had a want of proving what I was worth.

If it weren't for her, I probably would have continued being a sorry ass wallowing in self pity, and the entire situation would have been worse.

And how many times have your friends helped you realize your true potential? If it weren't for them you probably wouldn't have the guts to do half the things you're doing now.

Indeed, friends do raise you up to more than you can ever be.

I've got to say, my puzzle has been beautiful so far. And I'd thank a few special pieces for not going missing!

Merry Christmas, (insert-your-name)!

Good food. Good company. Merry Christmas (everybody)!
Since everybody is doing this, and since I haven't gotten a few things that I wanted, and since I don't have money to buy them myself...

Well, here it is. My wishlist.

Item #1
- White tiger soft toy found at ToysR'Us.

Item #2
- Nine Inch Nail's "With Teeth" album.

Items #3 and 4
- Nightmare Before Christmas DVD. The LOTR trilogy DVDs.

Item #6
- Book. "The Long Hard Road Out of Hell" by Marilyn Manson.

Item #7
- New set of acrylic paints

I don't have to do this you know. And I woudn't have, if I had the money to buy them myself. So if you happen to have extra cash you've got nowhere to stash, or if you got them for Christmas but have no interest in them.. you know what to do lah.

Seriously, I would be more than just grateful. I would go to the extremes of worshipping you. Really.

But since Christmas isn't about receiving as much as it is about giving, tell me what you want and I (might) give it to you!

But only if you give me something in return.

(Hey, nothing in life comes free!)

If you think you're Santa, and you actually like going through the whole rigmarole of making a list, checking it twice and finding out who's naughty and nice, then okay, I'll give you reasons as to why I've been nice this whole year.

FIRST, I studied for my exams.
Good kids should study hard, and study hard I did during the school exams. At least, I studied reasonably hard. At night. Couple of days before examination day.

SECOND, I didn't cheat during exams.
Good kids should never cheat. The fact that I tried to see the answers from the person beside me should be overlooked. Because that person happened to be EuJoe, and he needed help himself. Important thing is, I didn't cheat, regardless of whether I attempted to or not.

THIRD, I didn't copy quite as much homework.
Good kids shouldn't copy from other people what they should have done themselves. The fact that I didn't quite "do it myself" should also be overlooked. Just as long as I didn't copy.

FOURTH, I kept my room clean.
There's still chaos, but that's organized chaos. There's a difference.

FIFTH, I didn't steal anything from anybody.
In fact, I've never stole before, period. Extra points for me!

SIXTH, I didn't curse in front of any teacher.
Considering the fact that I tend to accidentally do that previous years, this year is an achievement. (By the way, keyword here is "accidentally". Like, for example, I was framed.)

SEVENTH, I haven't cam-whored.. yet.
I'm not saying camwhoring is bad. I'm just saying you shouldn't get a Christmas gift if you camwhore. Hahah! (Kidding!)
Okay so I am an occasional camwhore myself. But at least I don't post my camwhoring moments on the web. People tend to find it disturbing when I do that. Heh.

EIGHTH, I have exercised extreme pateince with my sister.
With the fact that she is a complete BRAT taken into consideration, I congratulate myself for being able to stand staying with her in the same four walls. Oh, of course, I didn't strangle her. Yet.

NINTH, I hadn't complained when I didn't get my Dwarf Rights.
I didn't say anything when KerLei and I (who both happen to be shorter than average) were put at the LAST ROW in class. We were the only girls in the last row. Instead of complaining, I looked at the bright(er) side. At least my neck got a reasonable amount of stretching exercise. But really, short people should have their rights, you know. It should be made a law.
Nevermind.

I would write you a tenth reason on why I have been good and deserve a present, but I can't think of one. So let's pretend there's already a tenth on the list.

Now go exercise that put-hand-in-wallet-take-out-money-give-cashier procession!

Go! Go! Shoo!

Double shivers.

I finally read the Sunday Times today, because I didn't quite get to read it yesterday.

And I finally read about the tsunami prediction.

I am thoroughly annoyed! Why am I the only one who finds this a huge deal?

My family obviously thinks it's nothing much to worry about, because none of them happened to bring it up yesterday when all of them had been hogging that paper!

And when I finally brought it up, you know what my mom said?

"Yealah, do renovation also wasted now."

My mom the comedian.

I mean, what the Fish, we're probably not going to be able to reach middle age, or even adulthood now.

That Thai meteorologist guy DID say it could happen in a year's time. He DID say if it moves north, Malaysia would be hit by the primary wave. He DID say it would cause "a lot of damage". And coming from the guy who predicted last year's tsunami back in 1998, he's most probably right about this prediction.

From what had been printed on the papers, if the tsunami really was about to happen, we would be given warning through news and SMS an hour before it hits shores.

Really, what can we do in an hour? Seeing how my family is taking this with a worryingly lack of concern, if they were to recieve that SMS, they would probably move to their "newly renovated" family hall and enjoy their last hour on earth. But hey, at least we're enjoying the last hour of our lives, as a family.

I know we shouldn't be loosing too much sleep over this. I probably sound like I worry too much. But you probably haven't had things put into perspective yet.

That wave could hit us ANYTIME. It very well could be two years from now. But it could also very well be next year.

And when it hits, it could be a HUGE wave that caused all that destruction and claimed all that lives last year.

And it's probably going to hit right smack into where we live! Right here!

My mom finally did kind of suggested we deviced an effective stay-alive plan we cold carry out if we really were to get that warning. Suggested, not really come up with.

Gawd, I don't want to be a number in the death tolls. I want to die from old age!

I am a little bit paranoid. Soorry!

Of cheesy songs and bad skirts

I was watching MTV yesterday, and I found out one of my OUR all time favourite song happened to be 33rd in VH1's 40 Most Awesomely Bad Love Songs Ever.

'I'll be your dream I'll be your wish I'll be your fantasy'.. isn't cheesy.

'I wanna stand with you on the mountain I wanna bathe with you in the sea'.. isn't stupid.

Savage Garden's Truly Madly Deeply isn't awesomely bad!

Number 38 on the list was that N*sync song. I'm not sure about its title, but it has a line that goes, "Your love is like a river, peaceful and deep. Your soul is like a secret that I never could keep." God must have spent a little more time on you, or something like that. I've got to say, that was one of the very few N*sync songs that I liked.

Then came the ultimate: On the list of 'top 3 cheesiest pick-up line from a song' or something to that effect, Backstreet Boys were Number One. "I'll never break your heart" isn't cheesy, what!

But wutoodoo, people just hate boybands. Bah, dumb, cheesy boybands.

=====

And now for a totally different subject.

I found out I look awfully bad in skirts.

Marvina got me to put on this green skirt that I thought looked kind of nice. But golly gee, it made me look like I had sprouted lettuce from my waist down!
Absolutely HORRIBLE.

On one hand, it's supposed to be depressing because a girl shouldn't look bad in skirts.

But on the other hand, I pretty much don't mind.

I don't wear skirts anyway.

George has to pee.

You are bored.




We were bored, too.




And since you are also bored, you probably want something to do.




Clicky here if you wouldn't mind watching a 37-second long movie.
Made by a bunch of really bored people, namely my sister and I. And we managed to get my mom into it.

It's a Windows Medie Video file. Forewarning, though. It's utter lameness.

If you have realized, the file name is "ASSHOLE", in caps somemore, which is a very risky thing to do considering we were using our father's notebook when we made the thing.

Actually, we made it a few weeks ago, when we were still in Times Square. You can probably already tell we were overly bored.

It was supposed to be a story about this really stupid guy, George. Unfortunately, we lost interest even before anything really happened. But you could still watch the beginning!

Ideas and concept by me. Drawing by my sister and I. Narration by my sister. You could actually hear her trying to suppress a snigger while introducing George. My mom was initially the narrator, but you know us, we want perfection, and she got frustrated with re-recording her lines. You see lah, no wonder she isn't working on TV.

Hmmm. Maybe I should consider a career in film-making. Hahah!

Why throwing stuff away is not good

I couldn't sleep well last couple of nights.

Actually I hadn't been sleeping well since last month, what with having to share a bed with my mom, but I've finally returned home and have since been sleeping in my own bed.

But minus the forts.

Lemme explain. Since I was really young, every night I would build a fort around my bed before I go to sleep. I would prop my pillows up along the side of the bed, and probably along with a soft toy or two, and my trusty bolster.

And I have been using the very same pillows almost all my life. I've now got two types of pillows la, one proper pillow, and two baby pillows. I've gone through a few adult pillows, but my baby pillows have stayed with me since I was a, what else, baby.

So I've since had a number of pillows, of which I'd always sleep on one of the baby pilllows and use the other, along with the adult pillow as fort bricks. But I've only ever had one bolster. Baby bolster, haha.

I'm sometimes strangely sentimental when it comes to my stuff. You have no idea how upset I was when I lost my ruler six months ago. I was still searching for it after a week. Heck, you know I was upset when I'm here talking about it half a year later. But I've been using that ruler since form two. And I didn't obtain it in the conventional way.

But I digress!

Back to my baby bolster. Also my fort brick. Every single night, when I build up my mini fort, I always arrange that bolster on the left side of the bed. So that it can block out the lights from outside that manages to seep in from under the door. When I sleep I always get to feel the bolster on my left. It has been like that ever since I can remember, which must be a LONG time ago, because I remember we were still using that double decker bed then, which my mom dismantled when I got out of kindergarden.

(Background voice: What the hell is your point?!)

Point is, it has become my security pillow. It gives me a sense of security. And when my mom threw my baby bolster away three days ago, she threw my sense of security away with it.

I know my mom has been badgering me to throw it away since a few months ago because the seams were no longer intact and some of the fluff from inside were popping out. Well what did she expect, I've been using it since I was a toddler. I always managed to stop her before she chucked it in the bin.

But few days ago, I wasn't at home. I was out enjoying myself, and my mom was doing her post-renovation house de-cluttering. Which basically means throwing out everything she sees as old, too dirty and crap-looking to revive, and everything else she had meant to throw away but has never quite gotten to it yet (this is where my baby bolster fit the criteria).

So when I came back, my bolster was already in that huge plastic bag full of other things she wanted to throw out.

I could've still saved the situation. I could've fished the thing out. But I figured, what the heck, my mom promised me she'd get me my first ever proper adult bolster (having been using a baby bolster all my life, anything else you people would consider a Normal Bolster would, to me, be an "Adult Bolster").

It wasn't until at night when I was in bed that the profoundness of the situation finally hit me. My mom had thrown away my most important thing from my childhood. My baby bolster!

Back to point number one. Why I couldn't sleep well last couple of nights.

Well, I still had one of my baby pillow back in Times Square. We hadn't actually gone and gotten our stuff back yet. The only reason I had my other baby pillow with me was because I had brought it with me when I was making my way home, by monorail and LRT. Of course, I'm not brainsick, what would people think when they see a 16 year old walking around KL all alone, with a lumpy, old looking pillow.

Nope, I stuffed it in my backpack. And it only fit one pillow.

So I was laying on my bed that night, not being forted up because of the lack of pillows. Adult bolsters would never be the same, because they are huge and clumsy, and they take up a whole lot of my bed space.

Without my bolster, how would I get that all too familiar feeling of security everytime I extend my left hand? Having had that bolster every night for the past (more than) ten years, it feels extremely weird not to have anything on my bed, and to only feel air on my left.

Very weird.

Sad thing is, I don't even have a photo of it.

White is a colour, isn't it?

Adults are supposed to be full of logic and common sense. But only yesterday, my mom said the darnest thing.

We were discussing what colour we should've painted the rooms.

Mom: "The tiles are white, that's why the walls should be white la!"

Everybody else: "............." (Much like what happens when a talkative friend of mine tells her jokes.)

The way she said it, it sounded like one of those "logic sentences". You know, just like "The sky is not a 'thing', that's why no one has ever really touched the sky", which is perfectly logical because first of all the sky really isn't 'something' that you can touch, and so it's true that no one has ever literally touched it before.

But "The tiles are white, that's why the walls should be white" is completely logical plus a "il" at the front.

We were out choosing a new water heater for my bathroom one time and the model that we finally decided on came in five different colours. I'm telling you, CHOICE = BAD. My mom and I ended up debating which colour would suit my bathroom tiles best. (Very weird lor, my bathroom what.) I wanted red. My mom wanted the one that is almost the same colour as the tiles, which is somewhere between yellow and orange. Then the salesperson went, "Guna merah lah. Nanti kalau kuning, tak nampak pun. Bagaimana nak mandi oh?"

Skewed kind of logic. But somewhat logical, nonetheless. Haha.

Back to my mom and her "white tiles white walls" logic. If we let her have her way, which is to have pure white tiles and white washed walls, and if we were to stand at one end of the room and look at the other end, we probably wouldn't be able to tell where the floor ended and where the beginning of the wall was.

My mom seem to think that there is such a thing as too much colour. I told her to get orange curtains for the family hall. You can tell it's her when she says, "Don't want la. The walls got colour already." And when I asked her what colour is she going to paint the cupboards and shelves, "Brown. The shelves are made of wood, and wood should be brown what."

Gah. But if you paint them like that, no one would be able to tell it's wood. So why not just paint it blue, or red?

I dunno lah. I just don't understand her.

Her initial choice for the dining and living hall walls were, obviously, white. So my sister and I started going on about how boring plainwhite is. Her reply was, I should say, not very intelligent. "It is not plain white, okay? It is Apple White."
And might I add, even my mom herself cannot tell the difference between Apple White and Rose White. They all look the same.
They all look, well, white.

I'm telling you, the only reason we have coloured walls, the only reason we have coloured tiles, the only reason we have funky coloured lights, is because I have been spending most of my energy talking some sense into her. Goodness knows my jaws needed exercising.

Backstreet's (half) back!

Few words can describe how I feel right now.

Besides "mildly pissed", perhaps only "extremey SLIGHTED" can do the trick.

Why lah why, Malaysia very cha meh?

Once again, Malaysia has been left out of the concert agenda of a popular band. If it was Avril Lavigne then I couldn't care less lah. But we're talking about the Backstreet Boys here!

They're going to stage concerts in Japan, China, the Philipines even.

And here comes the ultimate insult: They're performing in both Thailand and Singapore.

Mentally call up the geographical map of South East Asia, Malaysia is sandwiched between Thailand and Singapore!

This obviously means that at one point whoever responsible for choosing concert venues went, "Hmm. We'll go to Singapore. And perhaps Thailand. Or just about every country in that region. Uh, what's that country in between? Malaysia? We'll skip that, eventhough we'll be flying over that in order to get from Sing to Thai."

That is like going, "I want to give everyone in 4S6 gula-gula." Then while giving out the sweets, you go, "One for you. One for you. One for you. One for.. wait, I'll skip you." And proceed to give out sweets to everyone else after that.

How fair is that?

Sorry, I cannot help it. I have always wanted to watch BSB sing "As Long As You Love Me" while dancing perfectly choreographed moves since primary school.

Now they're coming to Asia, but they decide to leave Malaysia out of the fun.

If you're asking why I cannot just go to Singapore, it's because the concert will be in January. And here comes my mom's famous line, "you have to study. SPM near."

And guess what. I have relatives in Singapore who are getting married only a few days before the concert. Let me stay a few more days for it also cannot.

SIGH.

My only consolation is that they're probably goingto perform a whole lot more songs from 'Never Gone'. Which, as good as the album is, isn't my favourite BSB album anyway.