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A Different Kind of Celebration

12 Apr

April is a special month. Not only it is the month of my birthday, it is also Mom’s and the twins’ birthdays. Dad was also an April baby.

Typically every year, it would just be a sit down dinner around town especially for Mom’s birthday followed by coffee and dessert at home. This year, we opted for a different kind of celebration. Combining all three birthdays for a one-day celebration, we had a really enjoyable time.

The evening started off with a Japanese buffet with a slight twist. We had to grill our own order which was quite time consuming but fun. The grill setup was smoke free, the choices pretty good and we chose what we fancied. I felt like a lion that night, consuming all that protein.

After the sumptuous meal, we were all ready… for bowling! Told you it would be different.

And you know what? I am terrible at it! I was consistently getting a dash for one of the two bowl attempts in each and every frame, it was almost embarrassing. Even Mom chuckled at my ability or should I say, inability. 

After two rounds of bowling, everyone was pumped from the excitement but tired plus it was getting late. We then headed to my sibling’s for the birthday cake.

This year, we all shared a cake. My niece took pains to bake a four colored cheese cake until the wee hours of the morning. She said each color was to represent each of us, which was really sweet and thoughtful.

The zesty lemon cheesecake was good. Not only I had seconds, I had three helpings. Burp…

Today is Mom’s actual special day, so Happy birthday Mom, happy belated birthday twins and happy advanced birthday me!

 

Beef? Bacon? Prawns? No problem!

  

Colorful bowling balls

  

Pink, Orange, Green and Blue, one color for each!

 

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Get It Right

7 Apr

People who cannot pronounce my name properly shouldn’t be calling me to solicit for an appointment or whatsoever. It peeves me to no end when I get such phone calls. Same goes for people whom I don’t know, calls and pronounces my name correctly but tends to be fake and over enthusiastic in their conversation, irks me to no end.

My fitness and spa center called me two days ago and I was addressed as “Aggie”. Gawd… Obviously it’s someone new; I bristled and declined to make an appointment.

I have been inadvertently called ‘Angel’, ‘Angela’, ‘Agnes’, spelled as ‘N-G’ and ‘Angle’ (the result of the smart phone’s auto-correct ability and the not-very smart user to rectify), and now this. Eeesh… Why?

It’s not like I have a coined up name (remember Qalvin?), some exotic name or difficult spelling one. Let’s not even go into having my first initial to be the same as my last name, like that ‘K’ ‘klan’… I mean clan.

Get it right, people, it’s just a simple ‘Angie’, spelled ‘A-N-G-I-E’ and pronounced as ‘Ann-Gee’.

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An Intense Battle

28 Mar

When we drove the girls around my old hometown to see my past homes, house number three brought back one distinct memory…

It was a dark and rainy night (cliche, I know. I couldn’t resist), I was 17 and home alone. I cannot recall where Mom and Dad were but I was in a midst of an intense battle. A rat ran into the living room and scared the guts out of me. But somehow I caught a second wind to fight back! No furry pest was going to do me in.

I reached for the closest thing, an umbrella and a bottle of mosquito spray, Shelltox!(rebranded to Shieldtox now) Yes, mosquito spray and started fogging up the living room and beating the heck out of the rat! Sweat beaded my forehead, legs trembling and I was having an adrenaline rush.

It ran. Behind the cupboard and under the chairs but I gave chase. Sprayed the bottle out of fear and poked with a degree of madness. I think I was possessed. The rat scurried to the bathroom and I think I used up the whole bottle of spray! After that, it was all a blur.

The next day, when I told Mom about it, I think she found the groggy pest in the bathroom. When I think about it now, I can laugh but back then, it’s amazing that I was that brave. For someone who jumps at lizards, it was quite a feat. Would I do it again if faced with the same scenario now? I gotta be possessed to even pull it off!

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Childhood Ruined

18 Mar

It was December last year and our last weekend with M1. We decided to take a short drive back to my hometown for the best Mee Hoon Kueh, a dough-based soupy dish. It was a good brunch. Mom also makes this all the time and the girls love it.

After the meal, I thought it would be nice to drive around town to show them my old school and the houses I grew up in. At least give my children a glimpse of my past.

All my life, I’ve lived in four houses. We went to the fourth house first as it was the closest to get to. It still looked the same albeit some minor renovation and paint job to the front. Then we rounded the corner of the same neighborhood to house number three where we lived for a short time only but plenty of good memories too, like the time I battled a rat in the house! Another time on this… 

Then I was excited to show them house number two where I spent most of my life growing up there. Turning into the lane, I could rattle off the neighbors’ names whom I can remember. Four houses on that row have changed, renovated or rebuilt. One remained as is from the good old days. When we drove up to my old house, number 9, I was horrified!

Where’s the house? OMG.

There’s nothing on the wonderful 14,000square feet of land except overgrown trees and bushes. The house has been torn down. Oh.My.God. In that instant, my cherished childhood flashed before my eyes and it felt tarnished and ruined!

Ten years of memories zipped through my mind. I was shocked to say the least. How could anyone tear down such a beautiful house?

I could only share stories with the girls instead of the real thing. Hubby asked about the treasure I buried donkey years ago. How can I ever dig it up now? 

The indicator was the back door, some twenty steps straight then to the left, or was it to the right? I cannot remember, it’s way too long ago. Without the structure, it’s hard to pinpoint but I am darn sure it’s still there because I used a MacDonald’s styrofoam Fillet O’Fish container and this material don’t disintegrate with time.

Back then, being an innocent little one, how would I know styrofoam would be bad for the environment as I thought it would be a good treasure chest? We will never find out if it did last.

After getting over the shock, I didn’t feel like showing them house number one and we headed back home. Maybe some things of the past should be left unvisited. Sad.

   
  

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Chatterbox

11 Jan

Once upon a time, when I was just 20 months old, I followed my older sibling to kindergarten and loved it. And I kept following him to school until Mom had no choice but to enrol me. 

During the first few days, I was such a quiet little child and coped well, Mom was relieved it worked out fine. But after one term, the Report Card came back and it stated I was a “Chatterbox” and very talkative in class…

I guess some things don’t change, the chatterbox in me even when I am down with laryngitis.

It’s a new week and I have not recovered from my laryngitis. Some people think I sound sexy; M2 thinks I sound cute. I am just a little thankful that at least some sound comes out, awful as it may be.

Maybe it’s because I have been talking too much, straining my voice box that it is taking so long to recover. I can’t help it. Unless I stay home and vegetate, when I am out I have to talk.

Chatterbox.

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Too Much Happening

28 Dec

It was an intense two weeks with M1 back; there was so much eating and traveling. And suddenly, it’s all over. She left for the States yesterday night via Changi Airport, Singapore. Although there was an hour delay from KLIA2, the 5 hour buffer is sufficient for her to catch her connecting this morning, unlike her 50-minute gap the other day. 

That one, all legs of the flight were delayed (from the US-inbound to outbound) and she had 10-minutes to run to the gate at Narita. But thankfully, it worked out fine then.

By the time this gets posted, she would have flown only a few minutes to Narita International and a long way more to go.

Yes, I am tracking her flight on flightaware.com. And it was a restless night in between anxiety and fits of cough. It will be a restless next 24 hours until I know she’s arrived safely. Unfortunately, it has been several restless nights for me with this awful infection that I am having that has caused me to lose my voice.

I thought my record of getting laryngitis would be broken this year (three years in a row I had it) but no, it struck the week after we returned from Penang. So now, I am into my second week of this suffering. The inflammation in the throat has gone but so has the voice!

I guess it didn’t help that during the Christmas Eve dinner, I bravely downed red wine, white wine, coffee and whiskey. I didn’t overeat, I just drank a variety of drinks. I thought heck, why not? Alcohol kills germs. Plus, we were celebrating a happy occasion and let’s be merry about it!

Then on Christmas night, we went for steamboat, to complete M1’s ‘to eat’ list. Golly, by Boxing Day, I was rendered speechless. I am not even hoarse, just totally speechless. It takes a lot of energy to muster up even a tiny bit of strength to speak and even then, I cannot be heard by all three of them. (Silent sigh)…

So when M1 left, whatever that has to be said has been spoken (thankfully much earlier before my illness struck); whatever else that still needs to be spoken was left unspoken as a result of my inability. It’s tiring to aggravate the vocals.

Maybe less words spoken at this juncture is better. It was a quick emotional goodbye, a hug and again, some tears and she went through the gate. Hubby and M2 held up much better.

Unlike her first time leaving home in March, this time I take relief in knowing she’s going off to university as a Sophomore and being more exposed, I shouldn’t worry too much and should focus on getting my voice back. It has been too intense for me. 

(Silent sigh)…

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Everybody Has Skechers!

9 Oct

I was in M2’s room one night and discovered a pair of Build-a-Bear Skechers’ sneakers. How cute. I bought them from my trip with a girlfriend donkey years’ ago to Anaheim, California. I have forgotten about them and it’s just sitting on the shelf collecting dust.

“Oh look! Skechers, like my walking shoes and new golf shoes,” I commented and started to put the mini sneakers onto Olaf, who has stumpy legs and the best candidate available to don the footwear.

“Yeah, everybody has Skechers,” replied M2.

“Yep. Me, Daddy, even Grandma and now Olaf,” I quipped.

“Except me…” M2 mumbled.

“I know. Soon. You’re in between shoe sizes now so no point buying a pair now and you will grow out of it.” I reasoned.

I guess it’s just a matter of time (and a lot of growing) before M2 joins us in having a pair of Skechers too.

 

Don’t they look cute?

 
 

Olaf trying on the Skechers!

 

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Chat

Act Your Shoe Size

18 Sep

Hubby had this tee shirt that listed several life lessons. There were two that stood out for me.

One: act your shoe size. The other: eat dessert first.

I think once in a while it is nice to act your shoe nice, which by the way I am a seven and definitely it is very nice to eat dessert first!

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Summer Days

10 Jul

M1’s first summer is going on well, with classes keeping her busy. Weather-wise it can be hot and sometimes still cold.

Comparing her experience with mine, I came home for my first summer after a year away. Unlike M1, starting as a freshman, I started as a Sophomore, transferring a year’s liberal studies from the local community college. Anyway, Mom and Dad thought I should come home and I did for a whole 16 weeks. Sure I enjoyed the food, friends and family but I felt it was too long. Towards the end of my summer, I was agitated, bored to death and couldn’t wait to get back to college.

So by the time my second summer came around, I decided to continue working at the bookstore and took a summer class. Painting. It was very laid back and fun. Needless to say, I aced it.

And prior to my third summer, I engineered an internship opportunity in New York City. That summer came and I interned with WBMG, Inc. under the watchful eyes of Walter Bernard and Milton Glaser. The exposure and experience were priceless and the best time of my life!

Ahh… Those were the days.

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Don’t You Want A Piercing?

18 Jun

Girls will be girls. But I guess I am not, somewhat. When M1 was six, she had her ears pierced. But it took 13 years before M2 had her ears pierced. All this while, she has been afraid and that’s why it took this long act on it. And we felt the fear and anticipation of the piercing was far more terrifying than the actual pain.

To show her support, M1 accompanied M2 and she (M1) got her second set of piercing while M2 had her first. This was last year.

Two weeks ago, M2 wanted a second set of piercing! Where did the bravery come from? But as M1 is away at university, hubby nudged me to do it, to show my support.

Did I do it? Well, I’d rather have another tattoo than having my ear lobes punched.

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