ms-vindicta

 

 mucking around photobooth in the sis’s spankin’ new macbook

 

and this is how i look like at home; ratty tshirt, spectacles, fresh-faced, hair up in a bun, hairband to hold up the fringe, and in the process showing off my forehead in its full, high glory.

 

very tak glam, i know. 

 

it’s little wonder why the door bitch at PLAY checked my IC, even when i was there with a painted face, two 30-something year olds and a 20-ish lady.

 

anyway, the purpose of this entry is to send off a few greetings.

 

first, to the boyfriend, happy 6 months! (yes! for once, i don’t get to use that disgusting word "monthsary") 

 

it’s been an amazing journey so far, and i know we’ll go further, hand in hand, belly with tummy.

i’ll leave the lovey-dovey stuff to the private blog okay?

 

 

second, to my still-as-blur friend, thiang, happy 19th birthday!

your book’s coming along your way soon! see lah, get what romance book, in the end everywhere also out of stock. should have just stuck to good old erotica. heh.

 

 

third, to posh, happy birthday too babe!

i hope you have a blast at wala downing waterfalls. hur hur.

 

and yes yes, i shall get down to the new year resolutions’ entry fast, if not for tradition’s sake, then to at least push that awful picture of me above further down your computer screen.  

 

1. having my ex collegaue introduce me to heineken’s brand manager as "one of the best interns we’ve ever had".

 

2. overhearing my tuition kids say they like me best out of the choices of me, my mum and my brother as teachers.

 

3. the boyfriend burning all my fave songs into a cd so that while travelling, we can bang our heads along to metallica and sing our hearts out to leona lewis.

 

4. the barflies and their outings.

 

5. life, in general.

 

*skips around*

 

and then it’s time to start drafting that cliche new year resolutions entry. 

keep your eyes out for it! 

we got new neighbors who moved in about a month back and the family’s fairly eccentric - rearing fishes in a tank outside their flat, having windwheels installed over the place though their youngest kid’s 13?, having stools all over the corridor though they don’t have visitors.

 

they also have a tendency to talk REALLY LOUDLY.

 

so when i overheard the son of the family talking to his mother at the top of his voice the other day, i casually remarked to my mother that he was quite rude.

 

my mother then launched into rambling mode, saying that the mother was crazy cause she screams at the kids. that even if she’s angry she shldn’t shout at them cause it’s embarassing blah blah blah.

 

i blinked.

 

the situation’s ironic because if you know my mum, she is one that never fails to scream at us whenever she’s in a foul mood, even banging a couple of pots and pans just to prove a point.

 

and yet.

 

 

i guess the irony wasn’t lost on my dad too, cause right after my mum finished her tirade and walked into the room, he came to me and went,

 

"both of them can fight lor."

 

indeed, very true indeed.

so you guys all know my mum left for taiwan on wed.

 

the night before she flew, she did this. 

 

 

three notices, one for each of us in the house, stuck up in the hallway in the living room where it’s pretty damn hard to miss.

 

so each of us have duties assigned, with the responsibility of the housework falling mostly on my dad’s shoulders.

she wrote on his list, "tidy the house when you’re free".

 

note, though she mentioned "when you’re free", as though giving him an option, she sure as hell won’t be sparing him a tongue-lashing if she comes home and finds the house dirty.

 

so it’s not much of a choice afterall.

 

the funny thing is, if you take a closer look, you’ll notice a point that’s repeated on all our 3 lists.

 

on dad’s list.

 

 

on sister’s list.

 

on my list.

 

on all 3 lists, she constantly, incessantly reminds me to not come home late, and also commands the sister and father to keep an eye on me. 

 

walao.  

 

 

the worse part is, my dad seems to be taking her advice really seriously, because for the past few days, he has been calling me during work just to "check up" on me.

 

while i just returned from a meeting with a client and was waiting at the lift lobby, he rang, and upon hearing the noise in the background, took on a suspicious tone and started questioning me on my whereabouts.

 

now what’s so ironic about this situation is that he rang me at 5.30pm, and asked me if i was on my way home.

 

yes, my dad does not know that my official knock-off time is at 6. (but i usually OT all the way till 7) 

he is under the assumption that i knock off at 4, and hence i should be on my way home at 5.30 pm on a wednesday evening.

 

 

see lah, want to play the good father role for once when the mother is away, but is still cock-blur.

 

and yes, he is really that blur.  

 

only a couple of months back, while filling up some forms, he beckoned me over and asked,

 

"how old are you ah?"

 

i shot him an incredulous look.  

 

"i know lah, 17 right?"

 

yes dad, your daughter is still 17 and an innocent, starry-eyed little girl.

 

riiiiggghhht.  

 

 

so this time i got sloshed again, only because i downed about 6 glasses worth of vodka, martell, and bombay.

 

it was so bad, i was walking stumbling around the bar declaring my drunken state to everyone, got coerced into doing something that’s unspeakable but unfortunately, a very good photo opportunity (i will personally see to it that the pictures do not get posted up hor, UNCLE JAY!), and scared Teh Si half to death by asking him if he wanted a kiss as payment for getting my bag.

 

the poor boy muttered a "er, no thanks, i think you better head home" and scurried away.

 

 

i was so wasted, i was led out by a very kind TK to take a short walk because according to him, "walking raises your metabolism rate and makes you feel better".

 

someone needs to verify that statement cause i don’t quite believe him.

 

the conversation between me and him during the walk went something like that (from what i can remember) : 

 

me: "how do you know if someone’s drunk?"

 

tk: "oh, you know it. they can’t walk in a straight line."

 

me: *indignantly* "but i can!"

 

i then attempt to prove my point by walking along the road divider while there are cars heading towards me.

 

 

so apt right, the emoticon.

 

but anyway, i didn’t die, and instead, felt the urge to pee.

 

so i declared it.

 

tk: "eh, there’s a macdonald’s in front. we’ll head there so you can relieve yourself okay?"

 

me: "but mac’s a family restaurant! i can’t possibly walk in and let them see me drunk!"

 

tk: "it’s already 12.30 am my dear. there won’t be any families in there to see you drunk." 

 

me: *ponders for abit* "true, but aiya, let’s head back to plush to pee."

 

i then get pulled back to plush where i totally forgot about peeing until i reach home.

 

Vandalin who sent me home also noted that i kept punching my cheeks during the ride because according to him, i was continuously chanting, "my face feels numb!".

 

no wonder my hamster cheeks seemed to have grown quite abit since friday.

 

 when he finally dropped me off, he hung around for abit in the car, watching me make my way down the path in full glory of my drunken stupor, just to make sure that, i quote him, "don’t stumble and fall flat on your face."

 

so nice of him. 

 

and so i conclude that i’m a scary force to reckon with when i’m drunk.  

 

anyway, the mother’s going away on a week-long holiday starting wednesday!

 

i’ve already planned out what i’m going to do during the weekends when she’s not around, and so far, the plans looks like this: "sleepover", "good food", "alcohol", and "tadpoles." 

 

 yes, that’s how excited i am.

 

mischief’s spelt m-u-m’-s-n-o-t-a-r-o-u-n-d and i sure am getting into a whole lot of it!

 

will post pictures of my tadpoles when i get them!

 

 

 

 

 

us siblings in the family car, all crooning to the tune of Wang Lee Hom’s Kiss Goodbye playing over the airwaves.

 

 

well, it probably helped that none of us are tone-deaf.  

i fear for the day when i’ll exclaim in delight whenever a "NTUC Fairprice" or "Sheng Shiong" gameshow comes on tv, glad that my over-100 bucks-worth purchase of groceries a week can be justified, perhaps by winning two bags of rice.

 

 

typical auntie behaviour.

 

 

 

entry courtesy of the mother who exhibited above mentioned behavior on a tuesday evening. 

i apologised to the mother in the end.

 

i simply couldn’t stand her going around with a black face, ignoring me, and flaring up at the other innocent members in the family.

 

hell, i even thought of buying her the same bag that i had, just so she can’t give me the excuse of "i’m looking through your bag cause i want to borrow it" anymore.

 

i didn’t though.  

 

and now that i gave in first, the tension’s been lifted, and things are looking slightly better.

 

 

i still am sore i have to apologise when i don’t feel like it though.

 

aiya, whatever!  

just because you’re the mother, it doesn’t make you right.

 

in fact, i don’t even care who’s right and who’s wrong because all i wanted to do was to explain my stand.

 

but you flared up.

 

you started going on about how rude i am, how i think i’m all so high-and mighty because i’m 18.

and when i opened my mouth to tell you i never thought that way, you stood up yelling, and threatened to hit me.

 

perhaps it was a good thing it was only a threat, because if you had hit me, whatever little respect i have for you would have ebbed away.

 

don’t go about telling me how i can move out of the house if i can’t stand you scolding me, because one day, i just might.

 

i don’t mind you scolding me, i just can’t tolerate you being unreasonable.

 

and for accusing me of lying, ‘cuse me, but who was the one rummaging through my bag, then putting on a false front and telling me if was cause you needed to use my bag when you spotted me?

 

and don’t tell me how i’ll understand when i become a mother in the future because if i ever do, i won’t be one like you.

 

oh, and for your mothers’ day gift, i was thinking … perhaps anger management classes?

 

 

- - - - - -

i can’t believe i still have so much anger in me even after crying insanely in the bathroom.

fuck it. 

 

 

 

 

the mother seems to be up to her neck with funny antics lately.

 

just two days back, she stormed into the house, and went,

 

"those idiots. eat curry fishead already then throw the plastic bags there, don’t even bother to throw them down the chute!"

 

apparently, the neighbors had spotted the "one curry fishead for only $12!" brochures and decided to try it out, only, they didn’t dispose of it properly.

 

 

so the fuming mother summoned upon the sister, and told her to write a notice for the residents.

 

and because the sister is an art student, she must therefore be arty-farty and creative, and so, she came up with this:

 

in case you normal ones can only read times new roman and comic sans fonts, the notice reads:

 

"Dear neighbours,

 please do not leave your rubbish on the ground. Kindly throw it in the chute.

 

Thank You "

 

i know, such a friendly notice. with a smiley somemore. 

 

when the sister was done with it (after a grand 3 hours), the mother ordered me to stick double-sided tape on it, and proceeded to put it up.

 

here’s how it looks like: 

 

 

 

i don’t know about you, but i think our notice looks more impressive than the HDB-provided one, no?