Before CNY.
Back at home, nothing to do but scrubbing, wiping, sweeping, washing.
Have no idea why, but mozzies are attacking only my arms, from shoulder to wrist. With most of the bites concentrated between elbow and wrist. What happened, eh?
French learning progress is good, now teaching mon petit ami some of the words I know. Just the basic hi and how are you sort of stuff.
Cashew nuts, mandarin and tv as my friends, along with my pc and French textbook. The one companion I've menanti-nantikan has finally arrived. The bak to the K-U-A.
The BAK KUA.
How can we ever live through any CNY without any bak kua? I don't understand how anyone can give up bak kua just to be "healthy". C'mon la. Want to be healthy means do it the rest of the year and save some kilos for the bak nasty kua, man! My sister ah, you don't know what CNY is, man.
Then today mon frère came home and I asked him about this year's bak kua. Then he said, no BK this year.
Devastation sets in. Uncontrollable emotion overcomes me. Depression. Sadness. The whole world falling apart under my feet [actually under my fat belly, cos I was lying on my front], and the floodgates were opened.
NO BAK KUA. Unimaginable. All my hopes of what CNY would be, hinges on the prescence of this little piece of panggang-ed red meat in my household. You can practically see me fantasising about the bak kua like how Squidward fantasises about the Krabby Patty after tasting it.
Oh how I cried! I had the mind to pack up the next day [eve of CNY eve] and leave for UKM. What was the point if there wasn't any bak kua?! Then my brother being the trickster that he is, turn on the chorus "Don't Cry" by GNR and told me he was pranking me, and threw me the packet of bak kua.
I told him that if he already knew I was such a fragile soul, please refrain from playing such tricks on me. Oh my fragile heart! I cannot take such blows. Never.
Sigh. Mon frère, never again!
~~~
Addicted to Semisonic's "Closing Time". Et aussi Lily Allen.
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