My first tag

I think Sarah is the first ever person who's tagged me, so I can't possibly ignore it, for fear of the Sarah-ness.

1) Each player must post these rules first.
2) Each player starts with eight random facts/habits about themselves.
3) People who are tagged need to write on their own blog about their eight things and post these rules.
4) At the end of your blog, you need to choose eight people to get tagged and list their names.
5) Don’t forget to leave them a comment telling them they’re tagged, and to read your blog.Here are 8 little known facts about me:

One: I love baby food, but only the fruit type, too bad it comes in such tiny bottles.

Two: I saved my sister from drowning when she was about 10 months old and about half my weight. I was 6 and could barely keep myself afloat. I frequently used this to garner favors, until I accidentally tried to kill her 18 years later by locking her lazy butt in the car.

Three: I saved my brother from getting beaten to death by my sister. He was barely a couple months old, but Cheryl already wanted to beat him bloody. She was two. He never fully appreciates this, no sort of leverage works on the boy.

Four: I cannot speak any language other than English, despite what my CV says.

Five: I really hate peas. They give me goose bumps and make me retch. Oh, and carrots, cucumber, and coriander.

Six: My boyfriend tries to force-feed me the above vegetables, except the peas, he also doesn't like peas.

Seven: At the moment, I'd rather have puppies than children.

Eight: I still believe in monsters.

Back in KL

I got back by the skin of my teeth, barely making my ride home at 5.30pm. I sat with Godwin at the visa agency for what felt like an eternity before they called out my name, each of the twenty long minutes sank me further and further into despair. I was expecting to wait until everyone else had been served before being told that my passport hadn't been returned yet, but when they called me name, I was out of there like a shot.

So the week I was in Singapore consisted of a lot of grief, namely the visa agency, the weather, and how quickly the taxi meters tick over. I was so stressed out getting my application together and then waiting for it that I've developed a twitch in my right upper eyelid. However, I am ever so grateful to Godwin, Phin, Lester, Viks, Ming, and Chris for entertaining me. It was so good meeting up with them. I now have a new favorite place to go to in Singapore besides the ice cream place on 6th Avenue - Chocolate by Max Brenner serves orgasmic hot chocolate.

It was also wonderful spending some time with my Grandma, trying to scratch together a few sentences in Hokkien. It was a pathetic attempt for someone of my ethnicity, but a huge victory for me when, for once, it wasn't met by a completely blank gaze or side-splitting laughter. My cousin, on the other hand, has reached that age where meal times have all the volatility of a war zone.

Now to start another week of yoga and relaxing. My weeks are disappearing so quickly. Eeee.

First prize for thinking

Visa lady: Can I see your passport?
Me: Sure (Hands her a Singaporean passport)
Visa lady: Can I see your IC?
Me: Um...is my passport not enough? But okay... (Hands her a pink Singaporean IC)
Visa lady: Ah, I see you're Singaporean. (In a moment of revelation.)
Me: -_-

She then asked me to go and photocopy my IC to submit it along with the rest of my application tomorrow to make "doubly sure". Apparently the passport doesn't really count. She's right, they were just handing them out at the door.

Before I go

Buffets are the most entertaining times to people watch, when they have to wrestle their gluttony in the public eye. Like that guy that grabbed the nearest thongs and tried to dive into pile of salmon sashimi, only to be stopped by the chef and told to use the long fiddly chopsticks instead, or the woman who picked up every single piece of fish on the plate to check its underside. I wasn't sure what she was looking for, but Cheryl said to tell her that 'the gold is underneath the tuna' the next time I saw her.

I'm totally addicted to Michael Buble's 'Everything'. It makes me so mushy feeling. That and 'Before he cheats' by Carrie Underwood. I'm waiting for Malaysian radio to ruin those songs for me though, through a severe case of overplaying; the way Elliott Yamin's voice triggers an immediate finger on the presets.

I'm off to Singapore tomorrow morning. I'm seeing how quickly I can get in and get out, preferably with my entry clearance in tow. Hopefully they won't stop me from re-entering Malaysia, thinking I've just ducked into Singapore for 48 hours to refresh my visitor's pass. Not that I want to be completely antisocial and not see anyone, in fact I've already got a dinner booked for Monday night and lunch on Tuesday, but I'm so desperate to just rest at home before the great New Zealand adventure kicks off in two weeks or so. Holidays abroad with my family always seem to feel like they go at breakneck speed, especially when Mum's idea of sleeping in is 8.30am (9 O'CLOCK ALREADY! GET UP!).

My summer is running by as fast as a good book.

I just don't understand

How can someone who goes to church every week, has been baptised no less, and calls himself a Christian turn his back on the very thing he is supposed to uphold and lie to his parents? Let's not talk about the fact that the lie was about skipping class (again). His completely hypocritical actions make me sick to my stomach.

We stood in line wondering if we should go to the trouble of buying him and his friends movie tickets because that was where he was supposed to be after school, instead of at a cyber cafe during class. We thought of calling but checked the time and thought he would be in class and therefore not a good idea to distract him. The fact that Mum even let him go out on a school day is something we would never have even dared ask for.

Fine, we can sympathise - it's hard for a boy to grow up with two older sisters, so the special dispension he's been getting his whole life maybe makes up for that. Like the way he was given RM400 the very same morning to buy an iPod Nano, while Cheryl still hangs onto her disc player; or the way he's already thinking about replacing his six month old phone, and I'm still clinging to my four-year-old Nokia that sparks exclamations of surprise that anyone even still has that model.

It's not as if he works outside of school hours and let's not talk about the huge amounts of grief he caused us by spending more time on WoW than actually studying during his last exam session. His grades aren't stellar, although he certainly doesn't lack for brains. He's the sort who thinks he can pass math without lifting a finger outside class to practice. He has to sit through hours of tuition so someone can babysit him, at the age of seventeen, and makes sure that he studies some. Computer every night for four hours is apparently not enough, although we were barely allowed two hours during our A levels, he cuts class without flinching to go to a cyber cafe despite repeated promises never to go again during term time.

When Mum was interrogating him this afternoon, I could not for the life of me think why she would keep on asking the same questions. I wanted to jump in and stop her. Obviously she knows her son better. Lies. All lies. His empty promises amount to nothing.

How can one boy showered by so much love and generosity do this? We've been taken for fools, the leniency we show him only gave him a chance to take advantage of us. The betrayal is intense. It felt like I've been sucker punched, flooded by waves and waves of disappointment. The glimmer of hope I hang onto that he's finally grown up gets slimmer and more distant every time. I can only imagine what Mum is going through.I don't know what to think of him anymore.

Fluffiness

I've slept 20 hours over the last couple of days trying to fight off a flu that Weng generously gave me. That's a lot, considering I've only averaged seven hours a night since getting back. I've just been lying around all day today too, looking at everything through a super fluffy haze. I hate being ill on a holiday, there's just too much to do.

Good news came this morning. My work permit's been approved and is on its way over. Now I just have to get my butt down to British High Commission in Singapore and all should be good for the September start.

I'm also really looking forward to the Kim Possible movie this Saturday. It's going to be followed by two back to back episodes of the new season!!1! I kid you not, I've been waiting for two whole weeks! But I'll be at Wings, so I'll have to set the VCR. Ah, technology.

Oh, and the people at the Massimo Dutti store in Bangsar Village are snobby, pretentious twerps. Actually, the lady sitting at the information counter in Bangsar Village is a ... grumpy bum.

Shiokness

There is a reason that one of my yoga classes is quite simply called "Hot". They close all the windows and the door and turn on the heaters, then you proceed to do a series of poses where you're completely distracted from the pain by the rivers that course down your face and gush off the tip of your nose. Some poses are impossible because you just cannot get a grip on the sweat-slicked limb(s) involved.

I also got a new baby. A beautiful Canon IXUS 850. I haven't been this thrilled with a camera since my last IXUS that took a walk somewhere between Southampton and South Kensington three years ago. I'm going to guard this one with my life. Given my rather limited photography talent, I love how you can just point and shoot with this camera and the picture quality is amazing.



I finally have an excuse to put up pictures. Here's half the youth from CBC - there are so many of us now, it's fantastic.

After lunch on Sunday there was torrential rainfall, so much so that Joel commented that our church was now waterfront property, blessed by a raging river flowing down the hill on it's right.

Contentment

Being home is bliss. The good food, clean house, comfortable bed, and loved ones all around more than makes up for the chores. I don't have to worry about what to eat next, and we haven't had to so much as look at soy sauce chicken, leeks and chicken, oven chicken, or steamed egg. Thank goodness.

Popped down to Singapore last week, just as the flu was setting in. I must've passed it to at least the half of the country that crammed themselves into Orchard Rd. The new things I bought distracted me sufficiently though, so all was well in the end I suppose.

Other than that, it's mostly been a flurry of important things like facials, food, threading, food, pedicures, food, and yoga to counter the eating. Oh, there was also the small issue of finalising things for our place next year. Weng and Cheryl managed to secure one in the last week they were there, which is excellent news and buys me another week of home time.

I want to stay here forever though.