Bouncety Bouncety Bounce.
I am currently in my room, after having not been here for the past 5 days and missing my computer rather; besides which, it seems that my firewall has been missing me and has started exhibiting strange behaviour; I think I may have to reinstall it or something.
Anyway, I've been to So Hour and back, and I've met my parents plus the two youngest of my siblings... but I should preserve the entire story in its original order of occurrence or I'm sure to get things messed up one day, and this is the sort of thing I want to remember... well, not because it's particularly flattering--the opposite, really--but it's so darned hilarious if you're not the one involved in it.
Well then: my 5th aunt has a friend, whose daughter is in my class. This classmate is extremely fond of going back to So Hour, and her mother mentioned it to my aunt, who then mentioned it to me that I should follow the classmate back to So Hour to save on transport fees. It was therefore arranged that last Tuesday, my brother and I were to be transported to my aunt's house by the classmate's parents.
It was too good to not go wrong, eh?
The first thing was when my brother got confused about where he was supposed to meet us, and went to the MRT terminal instead of the bus interchange where the Smiling Bus awaits to cheerfully take unsmiling people out of the country. It was while phoning him to check up on his whereabouts, and thus finding out about his mix-up, that I realised my own, much more serious mistake: I'd forgotten my passport, which is somewhat essential to leaving the country.
I told my brother to not bother rushing to the buses, because I'd be rushing to my room to get the passport. He didn't say anything flattering. I told my classmate I'd forgotten my passport and my brother and I would find our own, more expensive and more troublesome route back to So Hour. She didn't say anything flattering either. My father said even less flattering things when we phoned him to tell him we'd be about 4 hours late because of my forgotten bit of paper.
In any case, it was a comedy of errors, as I told my brother while we were on the bus(es); he merely said that it proved we were family (one of the few truly defining traits of the men of my family, as I never fail to derive uncountable merriment from, is our ability to lose our way). Personally I think it's a mercy he went to the wrong place, or I might not have realised I'd forgotten the thing 'til much later (like, say, at the Customs).
My parents, needless to say, were unimpressed by the feat of forgetting, and when we later found that I'd forgotten my toothbrush too (and had to get one of the spares that my mom always keeps in her handbag--the strange things that mothers bring on trips!) they waxed eloquent on the need for a Must Pack list when I go on trips.
All the same, it was wonderful to be with family, notwithstanding all our tendencies to rub each other the wrong way: my father is still an early bird who thinks I should be one too, my youngest brother has developed an astounding fondness for bumping into other people near him, my mom still thinks I should tidy up my room more than once a semester, I still wake up late and never fold my own laundry, my youngest sister has learned the art of PMSing, and my brother (the one I went over with) has developed a sharp tongue indeed. But we still can laugh with, or at, each other and go "Oooooh" when we see fireflies; we still love coconut juice, which we can gulp down by the gallon; we still exchange blonde jokes, and after all, we're family.
Speaking of which, we played Monopoly one night and I lost quite badly: Gobble won. My father said it was because I bought too many properties and too few houses, while Gobble bought all the good properties and then proceeded to raise house after house on them. I blame the dice for always throwing me on Gobble's properties.
...and now? Chinese New Year is technically still going on, although the holidays allotted to it are over; at least, they're over to Singaporeans. My youngest siblings, who study in Fifth Hun, have 2 weeks' total holiday (possibly more since they're in an international school), and are now, I think, still in So Hour--they returned there yesterday after a two-day jaunt around Singapore. They've seen my half of the room and pronounced it in need of tidiness: my father began muttering about the need for somebody to pop in now and then and order us to clean things up.
And now I'm here, in my room, and my family's scattered itself off again. I'll have to wait 'til May, at the earliest, before I see any of them in the flesh again, but personally I think the photos I'm waiting for my father to send me will be a huge consolation. Some of those are pretty good.
Incidentally, the Brats and their parents came down to So Hour for a visit on the way back from Singapore to KL; they only stayed for an hour, which was enough for the Brats to scare the chickens, kick up a lot of stones, almost lose the pet tortoise of my cousins, and offer to kick one of my cousins in his crotch. Stupid little things. The eldest of them was particularly grumpy: Gobble said they were antisocial; I'm much less charitable and I think that she was just irritated that she was in someplace where she didn't have any authority at all.
I think I've almost forgiven them. I just haven't forgotten a single thing, and the memories do rankle so. Fortunately for both my veneer of politeness and their scrawny necks, I didn't have to say much to them except "Put down that tortoise!"
And now I'm back here in my room, with lots of stuff to do--there's a Math test on Thursday, after all--and a headache that I blame on too many days of waking up too early.
Anyway, I've been to So Hour and back, and I've met my parents plus the two youngest of my siblings... but I should preserve the entire story in its original order of occurrence or I'm sure to get things messed up one day, and this is the sort of thing I want to remember... well, not because it's particularly flattering--the opposite, really--but it's so darned hilarious if you're not the one involved in it.
Well then: my 5th aunt has a friend, whose daughter is in my class. This classmate is extremely fond of going back to So Hour, and her mother mentioned it to my aunt, who then mentioned it to me that I should follow the classmate back to So Hour to save on transport fees. It was therefore arranged that last Tuesday, my brother and I were to be transported to my aunt's house by the classmate's parents.
It was too good to not go wrong, eh?
The first thing was when my brother got confused about where he was supposed to meet us, and went to the MRT terminal instead of the bus interchange where the Smiling Bus awaits to cheerfully take unsmiling people out of the country. It was while phoning him to check up on his whereabouts, and thus finding out about his mix-up, that I realised my own, much more serious mistake: I'd forgotten my passport, which is somewhat essential to leaving the country.
I told my brother to not bother rushing to the buses, because I'd be rushing to my room to get the passport. He didn't say anything flattering. I told my classmate I'd forgotten my passport and my brother and I would find our own, more expensive and more troublesome route back to So Hour. She didn't say anything flattering either. My father said even less flattering things when we phoned him to tell him we'd be about 4 hours late because of my forgotten bit of paper.
In any case, it was a comedy of errors, as I told my brother while we were on the bus(es); he merely said that it proved we were family (one of the few truly defining traits of the men of my family, as I never fail to derive uncountable merriment from, is our ability to lose our way). Personally I think it's a mercy he went to the wrong place, or I might not have realised I'd forgotten the thing 'til much later (like, say, at the Customs).
My parents, needless to say, were unimpressed by the feat of forgetting, and when we later found that I'd forgotten my toothbrush too (and had to get one of the spares that my mom always keeps in her handbag--the strange things that mothers bring on trips!) they waxed eloquent on the need for a Must Pack list when I go on trips.
All the same, it was wonderful to be with family, notwithstanding all our tendencies to rub each other the wrong way: my father is still an early bird who thinks I should be one too, my youngest brother has developed an astounding fondness for bumping into other people near him, my mom still thinks I should tidy up my room more than once a semester, I still wake up late and never fold my own laundry, my youngest sister has learned the art of PMSing, and my brother (the one I went over with) has developed a sharp tongue indeed. But we still can laugh with, or at, each other and go "Oooooh" when we see fireflies; we still love coconut juice, which we can gulp down by the gallon; we still exchange blonde jokes, and after all, we're family.
Speaking of which, we played Monopoly one night and I lost quite badly: Gobble won. My father said it was because I bought too many properties and too few houses, while Gobble bought all the good properties and then proceeded to raise house after house on them. I blame the dice for always throwing me on Gobble's properties.
...and now? Chinese New Year is technically still going on, although the holidays allotted to it are over; at least, they're over to Singaporeans. My youngest siblings, who study in Fifth Hun, have 2 weeks' total holiday (possibly more since they're in an international school), and are now, I think, still in So Hour--they returned there yesterday after a two-day jaunt around Singapore. They've seen my half of the room and pronounced it in need of tidiness: my father began muttering about the need for somebody to pop in now and then and order us to clean things up.
And now I'm here, in my room, and my family's scattered itself off again. I'll have to wait 'til May, at the earliest, before I see any of them in the flesh again, but personally I think the photos I'm waiting for my father to send me will be a huge consolation. Some of those are pretty good.
Incidentally, the Brats and their parents came down to So Hour for a visit on the way back from Singapore to KL; they only stayed for an hour, which was enough for the Brats to scare the chickens, kick up a lot of stones, almost lose the pet tortoise of my cousins, and offer to kick one of my cousins in his crotch. Stupid little things. The eldest of them was particularly grumpy: Gobble said they were antisocial; I'm much less charitable and I think that she was just irritated that she was in someplace where she didn't have any authority at all.
I think I've almost forgiven them. I just haven't forgotten a single thing, and the memories do rankle so. Fortunately for both my veneer of politeness and their scrawny necks, I didn't have to say much to them except "Put down that tortoise!"
And now I'm back here in my room, with lots of stuff to do--there's a Math test on Thursday, after all--and a headache that I blame on too many days of waking up too early.
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