Can't be undone

I supposed after making a big hoohah about it, I should follow through.

Right. This is difficult to write. So here goes.

My so-called parents went for their little delightful spot of European sun on May 29th, I got the text message the day after. The date is important to the flow of what happened. So it took me bout 5 days to come to terms with it and be all sad. The thing is, ever since I came to Australia I have not cried at all for homesickness or loneliness. I know some people who went into some sort of funk while they are here and have super emo FB status updates about “Boo hoo I wanna be back home in Malaysia”. I never had any of those. The first time that I ever cried in Australia was 5 days after I realized what my parents did to me. I’m not a big crier, I detest it. I think girls who cry are weak pansies and should be smack silly. That being said, my parents have rendered me to that weakling pansy that should have been smack silly. Multiple times at that.

The thing is my parents and I, we speak on Skype, before this anyways, about like 4 or 5 times a week. Sometimes hour long conversations, sometimes a 2 minute thing that goes like “Mom I can’t talk to you now cause Glee is on”. That kinda thing. Right after the text message from my dad, they didn’t even text or call me from their little lovely European getaway. First you lie to me, then you didn’t even acknowledge my existence? Thumbs up on parenting there. It was like they know they fucked up and they were running away from it.

Then on the 11th to the 21st of June my cousin came over for a visit. I mean that’s a long holiday and I was basically very busy and tired taking her around Brisbane and the Gold Coast. At this point, there were still not a beep from my parents as they frolic around in the European sun. I was feeling better by this time cause I was having so much fun with my cousin here. We’re very close, me and her. She’s one year older and we practically grew up together so it was really, really fun. That was until I mentioned what my parents did and she went all wide-eyed and went;

“Holy shit. You didn’t know that they were going for holiday in Germany with your sister? Really? My family and I know since March dude.”

The. Fuck.

And then just to fucking rub it in, I went on Facebook and the first thing I saw on my homepage was my sister’s status update. “Oh just got back home to Finland! So much fun with mom and dad in Germany” or some bullshit along that line. See, initially I wasn’t even upset with my sister. Parents have a tendency to fuck things over between their own kids but ohmyfuckinggawd, that shit hurts. And it pissed me off….and then it hurts some more. Again, it’s not the Europe thing. It’s the deceitful sneaking about. Put yourself in my place. Living abroad alone, parents fucking withheld information from you and apparently the whole fucking world knows about it BUT you, the fucking family member itself. Put yourself in my place and see if your heart doesn’t feel like its being stabbed again and again with a jagged dagger forged of ice.


So I reacted. Not very gracefully. I blocked my sister from my Facebook. Then I went onto Skype and blocked both her and my mom, as well as on YM. I figure they been at it since May 29th and its like fucking June something and neither of them have made any contact with me. So fuck it.

My cousin left Australia on the 21st and so did my parents, from Finland. And then suddenly, when they no longer frolicking around in the European sun, memory came back-a-knockin and they were like “Omigawd, don’t we have another kid in Australia?” Suddenly my dad is sending me text messages of feigned concern:

“Oh you mother said to make sure wear thick clothes so that you won’t get sick cause its winter there now right?”

“Have you eaten yet Sweetie?”

“Your mom and I were wondering if you be on Skype today?”

“Where are you? Are you okay? Why haven’t you been answering?”

“CD, are you okay? Where are you?”

By this time there were 5 times text messages a day and twice the number of calls. You see, at this point I was plain ignoring their message and I auto reject any international call made to my phone. To quote Sonia; “Wow, hardcore”. My parents thought they know me so well that they assumed they have to lie to me or else I throw a bitch fit. Well then, if they know me so well that they should have know that I have always been a vindictive bitch. They withheld information. I withheld information. Perhaps it’s genetic. We should look into making it a family business venture.

At this point I was ignoring them for about 10 days until my dad sent me a text message that was scary as hell:

“Are you okay? I am getting a plane ticket and sending your mother there.”

FUUUUUUUUUCCCCCKKKK!!! FUUUUUUCCCCCCCKKK!!

Fucking hell that was scary okay. I felt like I could have died on the spot. I went into full panic mode. I mean the fuck, I don’t want to wake up and my mom is there standing at my fucking doorstep. Are you fucking insane? I went into full panic mode. First shit I did was hid my bunny in a safe place. And then I fucking told my housemate to move the house’s minibar into his room. People would get their asses kick if my mom would even know the existence of a fucking minibar in the house okay. And then don’t get me started on all the other shit that I have and will not discuss on this blog. Fuck!

But still, I had to play cool. Waited for like a couple of hours. And then I sent this message:

“I’m fine. No need to care. Been busy. I’m going to sleep.”

Very curt. My dad called, auto reject. I didn’t call back.

But that wasn’t enough, I’m still angry. You see when I come here my dad gave me a credit card, to be used only in emergency. The first thing I wanted to do was to go shopping and max out the card but I figure that would not serve my purpose. That would just highlight how fucking immature I am. But I’m pissed. I need to hurt them. So I figured out what could hurt them financially, but won’t let me come across as immature. It somehow had to be a “mature” form of spending. Going to Harbour Town and cleaning out Nine West is not a form of “mature” spending. What could be it then? And then I got it. Since last year I have been taking 3 sets of boxing class. I’m already at the third level. I enjoy the classes, but I always wanted private, one-on-one lessons. However those are too expensive and I always figure to myself “I’m sure the classes are just as good as the private ones. And it’s expensive.” But since they pissed me off……….I went and enrolled myself for an 8 pack of private boxing classes that happened to be…….expensive. It’s spending, but its “mature” spending.


Do I need it? No.
Is it expensive? Hell yeah.
Does it make me come across as immature? No. Cause its self-defence and exercise, and that ladies and gentlemen is always a good combo and a completely “mature” form of spending.

WIN for me.

And then about like, 9 days ago my brother text me and told me that he’s gonna call and answer the phone already. At this point, he is the only one left that I am not pissed off so I answered his call. It was like an hour long call where he was like “I totally told them to tell you but they wouldn’t listen to me.” “You know how they are.” “I know this shit would hit the fan, bigtime.” “Talk to them, what they did was wrong but they’re still your parents.” Bla bla bla. Reverse psychology galore. I figure they, they being the deceitful and treacherous ones, must have been pretty desperate as to get my bro to call and reverse psychology me.

They sent a middle man.


So to be completely anti-climatic, I called my parents about 3 days later and we talked. Germany was not mentioned. It never happened. In fact, the country of Germany doesn’t even exist. They didn’t apologize. I didn’t mention it on the phone. The last thing I wanted to do was to pull out the hurt and break down over the phone. So we spoke. It was tense and forced and all that good feelings of talking to your far-away parents were missing. Since then I had another 10 minutes phone convo with them, and another maybe… 10mins mins Skype conversation with them. When my dad called to speak, I told him I can’t cause I’m running for the bus when I am in fact at home watching Hung.


I don’t get on Skype anymore. My Skype account is all but dead. I reply their messages in short sentences. I’m always “tired” when we talk on the phone. Or running for the bus. Or cooking. Or anything else that involve me not-talking-on-the-phone. Call me a Drama Queen, cause I am but I no longer want to share my life with them. I did and I wanted to two months ago but I no longer do anymore. Things will never be the same again between us. I know this. They know this.

And it doesn’t change a damn thing.

Sibs

This one time, years ago, I got on onto an elevator with my brother.

I absentmindedly pressed a button, assuming the button I was pressing was for the “close door” button. And the damnest thing happened- the door won’t just shut. The more I pressed it, the longer the door won’t shut. I totally freaked. I was all like “Holy shit! This elevator is broken! OMG!! WE ARE GOING TO PLUMMET TO OUR DEATHS!!!!”

My brother then calmly reached over and pressed the “close door” button. It turns out that for the last half a second or something I was pressing the “open door” button and freaked out for no apparent reason. My brother then looked at me dead in the face and said ;

“And to think mom and dad have such high hopes for you….”

Ass.

This story has no point really other then fact that I miss him.

That’s all.

Heal me, I’m heartsick

They fuck you up, your mum and dad.

They may not mean to, but they do.

They fill you with the faults they had

And add some extra, just for you.

(Larkin 1971)

I’m upset. This may or may not be a big deal but it is nonetheless upsetting.

As a recap, in case you guys have forgotten the location of my family members are as follows: My parents are in Malaysia, my sister and her husband lives in Finland, my brother alternates between Chicago and Malaysia, I’m in Australia and together….we are….a Malaysian family. I just need to remind you guys of this considering the fact that its been a while since I blogged frequently.

So my parents have been making plans to visit my sister in Finland since like the beginning of the year. And I know all about their plans cause well, we’re family… supposedly where my mom would go on and on about how much she misses my sister and my sister would go on and on about how she have to clean the house up from top to bottom before my parents get there or she’ll get her ass handed to her- all via Skype. It’s cute really watching mom and daughter fretting about nothing. About a month ago my parents finalized the planning of the trip and they told me that they’re flying to Finland from KL via Frankfurt.

So I asked them, them being my parents, “How long is the transit in Frankfurt?” and my mom would go “Oh I’m not sure. I let your father handles all that.” And then when I ask my dad he’ll go “Oh I dunno, ask your mom. All those things are too complicated for me.” This coming from the man flies out of the country every other month for business. I thought it was kinda weird but I just let it be you know. My parents are both in their 50s and you know…old people are weird. Ahem. Then the night before they fly off I called my parents on the phone, not through Skype mind you, telling them to at least text me as soon as they get in Frankfurt. And if there is free wireless at Frankfurt airport, if I’m online we can chat…help them pass the time you know. My dad was like “Uh huh, sure”, all nonchalantly.

The next day I received a text message from my dad. It was in Malay but it goes something like this:

“Hey sweetie, your mom and I are already in Germany. Your sister and brother-in-law are meeting us here later. We’re going to have a one week vacation here before heading off to Finland. We all love you sweetie.”

Say what now?

I was completely flabbergasted. You know it is not going to be a good day when the first words that comes out of your mouth early in the morning, upon reading the text message from Daddy Dearest was “What in the fucking blue hell?” Nope, never a good day. At first I was just stunned, and then the realization hit me. They been planning this for months and none of them were going to mention it to me. WTF? The thing is I am not even remotely pissed about them vacationing in Germany without me. I mean hello, without my parents could I be studying abroad now in Australia? Not everyone could say that. Who am I to bitch just because I can’t join them in Europe when thanks to my parents I have traveled to other countries before this? I mean, its fine. My parents and my sister have not seen each other for a while, so what if they wanna holiday together. It’s kinda sweet actually. I’m totally cool with it. But what gets me, what really fucked me over is the whole secrecy part.

I mean, the fuck?

I don’t understand it. That’s why neither my mom nor dad could answer how long the “transit” in Frankfurt cause hello! There is no fucking transit in Frankfurt. I don’t get it. Why don’t they just come clean with me. I am 20…something years old. I mean, fucking hell, I live alone here. What, they think I’m still frickin 12 years old and that I would throw a bitch fit cause they were going to go to Germany without me? Throw me a frickin bone here people! I mean come on, gimme some credit. Jesus. So they known this all along, for fucking months and none of them could mention it to me. It’s not the holiday part that royally pissed me off, it’s the fucking secrecy part.

I feel like being in high school all over again when you walk on a bunch of girls talking shit about you, and the moment you show up they suddenly kept quite. Only this time around, it’s not a bunch or hormonal teenage girls lusting over N’SYNC, but my parents- the people who are supposed to love me the most in this mortal existence without reservation and prejudice.

My ass.

At first I was fucking pissed off but then when the anger gone away all that was left was this overwhelming pain. I’m hurt. I’m really hurt. I can’t explain the reason for it but I feel so betrayed by my parents. I feel…..so disappointed in myself that my parents have such a lowly point of view of my character….. that I am already 20something and I am living abroad alone taking care of myself and still they could not see me as an adult. They think so lowly of my maturity and my character that they treated this thing…of what was supposed to be a non-issue on my part, as if I was still a child playing in the sandpit. I mean, people, I am not a child. Have they seen my boobs? How could anyone not see my boobs? My rack is the type of rack that you write home about so don’t tell me they don’t notice it. Do they think that kids have boobs like this? Huh? Huh? Why can’t they be straight with me? I don’t care about Germany. Not only that they think of as a child and immature but also, materialistic cause this what this is about. How my parents, ultimately view me as person.

That I am immature, materialistic and whose opinions are not worth being heard.

And that hurts. That hurts me more then when I dislocated my knee, hurts more then when I fell off the stairs and tore my lips, and it hurts me more then when Snape dies in the 7^th book- and people I cried for two days straight cause of that and went on to wear black and do not wash my hair for a whole week as a tribute to his sacrifice. That shit was heavy. Rowling was heartless towards the end.

But no, this….deceit from my parents hurts more then all of that combined and then some. I could honestly say that from now on, nothing could ever be the same between me and them anymore. The veil have been lifted from my eyes and I see them for what they are:

Deceitful, condescending and inadequate as parents.

Finland: A selective pictorial

Remember the days when I used to blog more then once every other week?.....Yeah me neither. Remember the days when I put up pictures of myself? Yeah...no longer. Anyways, these are a few pictures taken from my Finland trip in June. 

I can't put up the most awesome, magnificent, breathtaking photos of the whole trip cause I'm in them....hence why those pictures are awesome, magnificent and breathtaking. Ahem. These are however, the less awesome pics. Hope you guys like it, cause it been a while since I put up any photos.

The transit at Amsterdam, where a crazy, old supposedly a "nun" stalked my giant ass.

Here you can see a cruise ship passing by the Suomellina Sea Fortress, a historical site.  It's really cool seeing the ship passing by right next to you. Notice the people on the island waving at the people on the cruise. Kinda funny.

As the ship leaving the island.

Superman!

Random views of the town of Altoo.

I really like this picture. Really European.

This ride rotates you 360 as it goes up and down. My boobs hurt like a mofo in this.

More rides that made my boobs hurt.

Some kid that keeps on getting into my shot so I ended up taking a photo of it. That's right. It........Bring it on bitches.

Random pictures of downtown Helsinki.

A very touristy spot.

The famous Helsinki Fish Market. The reason why this photo was taken was cause dude on the boat was fucking cute. I got all sexcited.

The parliament house. I think. Not too sure. But its sure is pretty.

Angels and Demons. The translation still cracks me up.

There are of course more pictures. When I feel like it, I'll blog about this time when I walk around naked in public. In Finland.  True story. I bet you guys would wanna know about that.  Hehe. 

Till then my young pedawans......

From Aussie to Malaysia to Finland....in 29 days

The Constantly Dramatic One is now…in Finland.

Fuck yeah.

I've arrived here bout 4 hours ago. It was a combined 16 hours journey. 12 hours 50 mins from Malaysia, 4 hours transit in Amsterdam (where some fuckkery took place) and another 2 hours, 30mins to Helsinki. I am sooo fucking tired but I will not sleep. Jetlagged is a bitch man.

You guys.....this is like my first time ever in Europe. Ever. Well in all technicality I’ve been to Turkey which is like a motherfucking huge country that actually have parts of its territory in both the Asian and Europe continent. However, I’ve only visited the Asian side so that doesn’t count. So this is the first time ever in Europe.

I am totally geeking out over here.

I’m in my sister’s and brother in law’s place. I’m sooooo happy that I get to see her after 10 months. It’s just me by the way. The rest of the family is in Malaysia. It’s too expensive to fly all of us here. Plus my sis and her husband came back to Malaysia for a holiday back in April when I was in Aussie. I was soooo jealous that everyone was home at that I was the only one away okay. It wasn’t jealousy per’se. It was more like depressed and missing people till it hurts.

Missing people and things sucks donkey balls. It cuts deep and there’s no really cure for it you know. Except for going around trying to be as busy as possible so that you’ll forget…but when you’re in bed at night you still think about it and it still hurts, Despite everything you do to stop it.

So my sis says that if I come back during the winter break, she’ll foot the flight ticket so that I can come visit her. I have an option to visit her when its Winter break in Aussie therefore summer in Finland OR Summer break in Aussie therefore Winter in Finland. Duuuuude, Finland is fucking scary in winter, the sun disappears for 60 days. I mean, the fuck right….the fuck. I’m not gonna visit when there’s no damn sun around fuck that. So that’s why I’m here now, in summer. And in summer, the sun sets at 11.30 at night.

11.30….at night. And comes back out at 3 in the morning. I dunno bout you guys but I much rather visit when there is more sun then no sun at all. And yes, its damn strange in Finland.

So that’s all for noe. I’m hitting Helsinki and all kinds of other places tomorrow. So excited! Update you guys all about it.

Eventually.......

My brother lived in Chicago for 4 years and all I got is a lousy t-shirt

My brother came home on Saturday. He told me that he was supposed to arrive on Sunday and that I am supposed to pick up his ass from the airport. It’s supposed to be a surprise for our parents and we’ve been planning this for weeks. Then he went and showed up a day earlier.

It was almost 2 in the morning. I was home alone seeing that my parents were in Singapore. If I am actually “cool”, I would have called up some friends, get me a DJ and throw a super happening party with abundance of liquor, marijuana and pole dancing strippers. But seeing that I am not cool nor an extra designated for plot advancement in some American coming-of-age movie involving 4 guys who want to get laid before prom, I did no such thing. Instead I was home alone watching "Love Actually" and cursing my non-existing love life. I was at that scene, where that guy proclaimed his love for Keira Knightley’s character using cue cards with Christmas carol playing in the background.That scene was so fucking romantic that I hyperventilated a bit. I was like “How come he loves her? Why her? Why her and not me?!! Why doesn’t Clive Owen ever stand in my doorway, proclaiming his love by giving me a diamond bracelet with Snoop Dog’s Sensual Seduction playing in the background?! Why?! What does his wife have that I don’t?!!! WHY WON’T YOU LOVE ME CLIVE?!! WHY WON’T YOU?!!!” -when the house phone rang.

At first I thought it was my parents calling from Singapore. They could call my mobile but they called the house phone instead to make sure that I was in fact, at home. Like they’re so scared that I would go out all night partying and have random promiscuous sex in some club’s dodgy bathroom. I mean, seriously. Come on. I have class. If I want hot sex, I’ll just hire a gigolo. And we’ll do it in my parent’s bedroom, not some club’s bathroom. Trust me on that. So I answered the phone

“Yes, Dad. I’m home. I’m not out and about being a skank.”

“Hey CD, I’m in front of the house!”

Dude, I swear to God the first thought that crossed my mind was “Huh? Clive?” And then I panicked. Fucker, it was almost 2 in the morning. Who the fuck does house calls at this unGodly hour? OMGWTF, did I order a gigolo? OMFG?!! Did I? How the hell would I know who to call to order a gigolo? Shit!! How am I going to pay for this? What is the going rate for gigolos these days? OMG! The cops! The cops! My face would be all over the news for soliciting a hooker! And I haven’t got my eyebrows done.

“Dik, abang ni. Kat depan rumah.”

Sis, it’s your brother. I’m in front of the house.

Oh.

“What?! I thought you’re supposed to arrive tomorrow! Who picked you up?”

“My boys did. Come on, open the door.”

See, I could just go ahead and open the door for him but there’s a slight problem. I wasn’t wearing.... much. Like, maaaan I’m home alone okay. You’re lucky I wasn’t walking around naked. What the hell am I supposed to do? Answer the door in my panties and all my braless glory? With his friends standing there too? I’m sorry this is not a porno you download from the Net, this is my life. So I ran up, grabbed the nearest thing that I can and just put that on. You would think the first thing he would say to his long lost sister when I opened the door would be; “I miss you” OR “You are the best sister a guy ever had” OR “Wow, you grew up to be so magnificently beautiful” but what he said was “Hey, your pants is inside out…..and what’s that brown stuff on your face?”

Ahhh…..such sweet reunion of siblings. Bring tears to your eyes it does.

He looked dead tired so I told him to go to sleep but he was all excited saying that he brought me stuff from Chicago. Secretly I was excited too but was playing it cool. Inside I was like “YAY!! Gifts!” but outside I was like all “Oh really? You shouldn’t have.” Ahem. Then he pulled out like this thick ass book okay. “I got this for you cause you have always like to read.” Dude, I thought it was Tales of Beedle the Bard- Limited Edition turns out it was “Dreams from My Father" by Barrack Obama. Are you fucking with me? I stared at him and he was like “What? You were into the elections and I got you an Obama shirt too” at which point he pulled out this huge ass shirt from his luggage.

Okay, first off. Yes. I realise that I am fat. Yes. But really, is he mocking me? That fucking shirt is hugggge. It is not a shirt, it’s a fucking tent. With Obama’s face on it. I think it’s a men’s shirt sized triple XL. I am not making this up. I’m swimming in it! That shirt is so huge it reaches my knees. I got dresses shorter than this! Oh, the unprovoked insult delivered by your own flesh and blood!…Oh how it hurts so…

I actually got a picture taken in that shirt to show how ridiculous huge it is and I wanted to puti it here for you guys to see but at the last minute I took it off cause:

1) I was wearing shorts underneath the shirt but it’s either the shorts is too short or the shirt is too long that it seemed that I am not wearing any bottoms at all.

2) It is a men’s shirt.

3) I was posing next to my bed.

4) My hair was messy.

5) I also put on these sexy 4-inch heels that I got for RM25 on stock clearance just to show off.

Upon uploading this photo I realise the fact that I’m posing next to a bed in a man’s shirt seemingly without any bottoms on but with heels on and having that little messy bed hair going on is….not really appropriate now is it? What kind of message am I sending off to my readers? No, seriously…what? Images with hidden double entendre like that should not be seen by public.....only by Clive. So I took it off at the last minute. I will not blind my readers that way. You can thank me later. But trust me on this, that shirt is huuuge and it kinda look like this:

But in the size of a tent you take when you go camping in the Amazons.

I appreciated the thought however and thanked him for the gifts, gave him a hug and told him to go to sleep. We can do our catching up tomorrow. I got back to my room, flipped open the book and a Benjamin with a post-it note on it fell out: “Untuk adik abang”. (For my sister)

100USD, that’s 300 Malaysian Ringgit.

Turns out, my brother not so crappy with gifts after all....

That car was a ninja and it totally did ambushed me.....

I was involved in an accident last week. A vehicular accident. Actually "accident" is such a big word. It was more like....there was this car. And I uhhhh..kinda.....hit it. The worst part of it was that the car was stationary. How fucking sad is that? I drove into a stationary car and calling it a vehicular accident? Really, honestly. It is not my fucking fault okay. That car was a bitch.





It was around 8ish in the morning and I was leaving for class. I parked my car round the corner from my house on this abandon piece of land. That land can fit up to 3 cars and since we live near that spot, it is very convenient for me to park my car there. There was this other car that always park behind my car. Not exactly behind my car but damn near that whenever he parked his car behind mine, it is damn difficult to just reverse out. In fact I have to do that annoying go forward, reverse a bit, turn a bit, and then repeat 3 times before I can get out of the spot. Bastard.





So that morning I was more than a little bit preoccupied. I have Spanish quiz at 10am and basically my head was filled with Spanish verbs and future/past tenses. I barely acknowledged that car as I walked past it. I got in my car, put the gear into reverse, looked into the rear view mirror, smiled smugly at my perfectly groomed eyebrows, backed the car out and BANG!! All my smugness and my Spanish verbs went out of the window.





I remember screaming "Where the fuck did that car come from?!!" I got out of my car and there was this huge motherfucking dent at the backdoor of the car. Thankfully mine was all okay except for some paint transfer.








The first thought that came to my mind was "Oh fuck."


The second was "Oh fuck."


The third was "Run bitch! Run while you can!"








But alas by the time I could do anything my mom was already out the house. She looked at the car then she looked me standing there between my car and the victimized car then she looked at me straight in the eyes...... I mean fuck this happened near my house okay. If it happened like I dunno somewhere else, like 3897 meters away from my house I can just tell my mom "OMG Mom, it is soooo totally not my fault. Like I was driving according to the speed limit -being the law abiding citizen I am- then all of a sudden this raccoon jumped out of nowhere. I swear to God, a raccoon! On Federal Highway. I think it was nesting on one of the billboard...and I think it was rabid too....but it jumped on my car. It landed on my windshield and I screamed. I was so shocked that I lost control of my car but at the same time there was this parked car by the roadside...yes Mom a parked car on Federal Highway, I'm not making this up and I hit into that car. But don't worry that car is only dented. And I managed to deliver that raccoon to the nearest vet for psychiatrist evaluation. Poor baby. So you see Mom, it is totally not my fault. It's the raccoon's but we shouldn't blame it seeing that it's insane....." But of course I can't say that. Shit son...she saw the whole thing.





"And you expect me to let you drive my car?"


Wow, sarcasm is not appreciated at moments of life and death like this, okay Mom?





"How did you managed to drive into this car? It wasn't moving."


"It wasn't my fault! I did not see it there!"


"Constant Drama* (insert full name), it is a car. A car. A huge car. It is not a toy car....Do we need to get new prescription for your glasses?"


"The sarcasm is really not appreciated at times like this. This stupid car should not be parking so near to me. It's not my fault........."


*dirty looks* "Constant Drama, you backed your car into a parked car. As in the car is not moving. Nooooottt moooooooving. How is that not your fault?"





I learned at a young age that upon fucking up big time, one must keep one's mouth shut so that's what I did.





"You have a quiz today? Go to class. I'll deal with this. And your father will know about this too."





Fuck.





I'm telling you, I was on the verge of dying of a heart attack that whole day in college. All I could think was how my Dad was gonna kick my ass. Figuratively speaking of course. Wah, it was damn scary. It was like being an inmate on death row. Then I decided that instead of running away from my problems, I should confront it....so I called my Dad. I was all matured and shit.








"Dad.... I wanna talk to you about what happened this morning."


"I'm busy. We talk about it when I come home."


Then he hung up. On me. His last born!! I'm telling you...the inmates on death row got it easy compared to me. When he got home, we did have a talk about it. Actually....it was more of him yelling and me keeping quite and trying to shrink into a corner. However this is impossible seeing that my fat ass cannot fit into any corners.



"Ayah...Adik serious tak nampak kereta tu kat situ."

*Dad, I seriously did not saw that car there.



"Oh kau kena ambush lah ni? Apa keter tu macam ninja? Ambush ko dari belakang?"

*Oh so you were ambushed? Was that car a ninja? Did it ambush you from the back?


No, seriously. He said "ninja". I swear, one day when my parents are not at home I am gonna fake a burglary in my house. Disarm the alarm system, brake the windows, thrashed the whole place to make it look like a burglary and the only thing be missing is his damn ninja movies collection. Especially the Akira Kurosawa samurai movies. And if the cops asked how come the burglars didn't steal the plasma TV or the laptop or whatever I'm gonna say...."Well perhaps the burglars were ninjas and they don't want mere mortals, such as my father, to learn their secret ways." In any event, his ninja movies collection have got to go.


And then there were more yelling, numerous versions of his monologue of "money don't grow on trees" and then "you been driving for 3 years now, you should know better"- maybe 4 versions of that ending with my Dad taking away my car keys. That's right. He took my car keys.






Oh my heart! My heart cannot take it!


With that I conclude this story on a sad note. Friends, comrades, bitches: I will not be able to hang out with you guys cause my Dad is PMSing and took away my car keys therefore I ain't got no wheels. I can hang out with you if the place in which you want to hang out is within walking distance from my house. Like the mamak round the corner. Or if you are able to drop me off at the train station so I can get home. If this is not possible then you have to deal with the fact that I cannot grace your life with my presence. I know....I know what a bleak and sad existence your life would be, to be without me....I know it is going to be difficult for you. But you have to be strong okay? Be strong.



Ahem.



I ain't got no wheels and it sucks donkey balls.

So apparently, I'm an emo kid....

Hey guys, I am going to stop blogging for a while.

For the last few days I have been missing my sister. One of those pangs that came from nowhere and won't go away you know. As a result, the part of my brain, the part that produce my creative juices...yeah...that's kinda fucked up at the moment. The Constantly Dramatic One have turn into one of those overtly emo kids that are so annoying that you wanna slap them across the face and then shove their faces into a bucket of ice cold water so that all those emo makeup would come off.


In any event, I refuse to flood Dramatic Musings with my emoness. Fucking hell this is my bitching outlet, not a karaoke box in which I sing Bette Midler's "Wind Beneath My Wings" 5 times in a row and then curl up in a corner to cry my eyes out. And then if the mood strike, hurt myself. Cause that's what 15 year old emo kids do. They cry and then hurt themselves to feel alive. And apparently, ever since last Friday I have morphed into a 15 year old emo kid. Sans those raccoon eye makeup though.

So no, no blogging till I'm done being a 15 year old emo kid. But in the meantime, I'll visit your blogs. And if you feel like sending me emails, ecards, naked photos of yourself (if you happen to be Clive Owen), or you know.....contact number and residence address if you so happen to be a fireman- you know how to reach me.


And now, take it away Tickle Me Emo.

Firemen and zombies...Oh my!

For the last 3 days I have been obsessively going through youTube searching for.........me. First I searched for "Since You've Been Gone" and then I realised....how the hell would white-Honda Jazz-fuckface knows that I was rocking out to that song? I mean, does that fucker have supersonic hearing or something?



So I searched for "traffic jam singing" and have go through like a shitload of videos of people who videotaped themselves singing in cars during traffic jams. I felt somehow better watching these videos because clearly, I am not the only idiot who throw "concerts" during traffic jams. Then I went on to be more specific, throwing in words like "Malaysian traffic jam", "crazy girl in car", "fat crazy girl in car", "stupid idiot in car singing" and then when all else fail I typed in "ossum singing girl traffic jam".........and lo and behold...... I found nothing!



This is bullshit.


This is when my brother buzzed me over MSN.......




"Adik tau tak ada movie zombie baru?"
*Do you know there's a new zombie movie out?




"Meh, apsal lak Adik nak tengok citer zombie?"
*Meh, why would I want to watch a zombie movie now?




"Bukan hari tu adik hantar link calendar zombie kat Abang ke?"
*Did you not sent me zombie calendar link the other day?




"Excuse me, I sent you that cause they are Pinups Zombies. Not just any zombies."





"What's the difference?"





"Pinup zombies maksud nyer lagi cantik lah. Pinup zombies! Pinup zombies....Am I getting through to you?"
*It means that since they are zombie pinups...therefore they are prettier than your average zombies.




"Abang rasa gambar pinup yang ko suka sangat tu nampak macam sluts jer."
*I think those pinup girls that you like so much look like sluts.




"..........................................Why are you intentionally hurting me?"





"Cause I can. You're too easy. Never a challenge to pissed you off when we were kids."





"Adik tak nak chat ngan Abang lagi. Nak merajuk. Goodbye."
*I don't wanna chat with you anymore. I want to sulk. Goodbye.




"Poyoh!!! Tengok link ni! Best! Tajuk dia "Quarantine"."
*Big baby! Check out this link. It's the best! It's called "Quarantine".




"Fine, I'll humour you. But this is just because we are related by blood. Not because I harbor any affections for you. I want you to know that so that you won't be confused or anything."

"When did my little sister got to be so bitchy? Oh wait, I know. The day you were born right?"

My brother is a he-bitch but that's a given cause I think bitchiness is like a family trait or something. I watched his stupid link anyways. The supposedly "best" zombie movie ever. Looks like crap until the 0:51 mark.

Holy Mother of God!!!!! Is that a fireman at 0:51? Wait, wait....there are several firemen. Dude.....this movie just been elevated from "crap" to "OSSUM" in my book. So then I abandoned my brother on MSN and went in search of more "Quarantine" related videos and I found more trailers. With more firemen in it !!!!!! This one especially.

Firemen!!!! Everywhere. Okay fine, I noticed there are zombies too. But fuck it! Firemen! OMG!!!! I'm soooo horny excited now I cannot even think straight. Here's a synopsis of the movie:

"Television reporter Angela Vidal and her cameraman are assigned to spend the night shift with a Los Angeles Fire Station..........."

What comes after "Los Angeles Fire Station" in that synopsis is really not important. I don't really give a fuck. But if there's "Fire Station" involved that means it would involve a lot of men running around in those orange uniforms.....with the hats right? Holy crap!!!!!!!!!! This is like...........a dream come true. Minus the zombies of course. Wait wait.......apparently this movie is a remake of a successful Spanish thriller, with the same format and all...............................................you guys know what this means right?

Spanish firemen!!!!!!!!!!!!!

OMG!! Where can I get the original version of this movie? No seriously bitches. Anyone knows? C'mon! Spanish firemen!!!!!!! If those two words combined did not give you an orgasm, then you my friend, is a robot. Or a straight man. In which case, I apologize profusely for this post. And to show how sincerely sorry I am, here is the Spanish trailer. With Spanish firemen. Mwahahahahha!!!

Now, I'm off for a quick icy cold shower. *wink wink nudge nudge*

It's lonely on Aidilfitri

Disclaimer:

This is an emo post. Not a bitchy or a wildly amusing one. An emo one. If you don't feel like it than you can come back next week. I should be getting my mojo back by next week. But for now, I need to be all emo. And dramatic. Always dramatic.

*************************************

Tomorrow is the last day for Ramadan. Meaning on Wednesday Muslims across the globe would be celebrating Aidilfitri, the sign of the end of the fasting month and the beginning of the new Islamic year.

This would also be the first Aidilfitri where my family would celebrate without my sister and my brother. My brother have left for the States for 3 years now, the first year without him during Aidilfitri wasn't that good but we managed. And now that we have an addition to the family in the form of a brother-in-law for the first time, where should be excitedly celebrating together and all that but.......... the irony is that we will not be able to celebrate it together. It's sad. I'm sad.

Those Aidilfitri songs have never really mean anything to me. They're good songs, most popular during this time of the year. I never really listen to the lyrics until now. Those songs are deep man, who knew.

I was driving home the other day and one of it came on. I was stuck at the traffic light at that time. I was just listening to the song when tears came unbidden. Syahdu aku, nak Raya kakak ngan abang tak de. So I was just sitting in the car crying when I felt something on me. Some dude on the motorcycle was staring at me. His expression read "WTF crazy bitch?". And I kept on staring and crying and then his expression read "Dude, I don't want to deal with this crazy bitch" and he eased his motorcycle forward. Poor guy, probably was all confused.

When I was a kid, I resented Aidilfitri. It's so troublesome to go visiting the relatives, have to listen to aunts going about how fat I am, have to sit in the middle of my brother and sister, have to listen to my sister bitching, my brother's ridiculously loud Walkman, my parents arguing when they got the way to some great aunt's place wrong. Just too much shit. I resented it. I rather be home reading.

But now that those years have gone by, I realise how I miss them. Sure we bitch and we argue but we were together. In one place, in one country not spread out all over the damn globe. We were kids and we were a family on Aidilfitri. Now, it's only my parents and I. It's sad now. And lonely. I would give anything to grab the headphones from my brother's ears and threatened to throw it out of the car again. I would give anything to mess up my sister's do, the one that she painstakingly woke up at 6am to do. I would give anything, anything to hear them yell at me, telling me to stop it and then collectively say they wish I was never born. We were kids and we fight and we shared our food, and fought over the TV and we slept in each other's bed when it's raining heavily outside and the thunder's scaring us.

We were a family. And now we're not even together on Aidilfitri. They say you won't know what you have until you lose it and it's true. I learned it the hard way. I hope it is not the way for you too.

And now take it away Sudirman. Make me weep.

Selamat Hari Raya Aidilfitri Malaysia.

Eid Mubarak world.

Maaf Zahir dan Batin.