You know hor…it is Cheng Beng tomorrow. And if you read my previous years post, I get extremely stressed each year. No one can understands so shaddap and don’t ask.
I already counted myself good that I never rant about any IBS matters this year. I still haven’t decide if I am going to tag along and drag my kids up the hill, down the hill tomorrow morning. I love going Cheng Beng, don’t doubt that. But I cannot endure *whisper mode* the over superstitous IBS (outlaws lah).
But what to do…..I am part of the family. Like or not also have to follow the ‘buy chicken, buy duck, buy motorbike, buy hell money’ rituals eventhough I hate the idea. Because if they buy so much, what about my other dead son wor? So, I have to tune to the Christian thoughts but it does get a bit sickening to see baby stuffs sold by those joss-sticks shop. And we have to actually go there and pick them up. You say paper baby clothings, baby bottle, baby shoes, cute or not? KNN.
Now, my dilemma is this. Tonight we kena attend IBS annual convention and I wish to escape. Niamah, show me crabs and prawns and so many yummy foods. Like put me with naked Jay Chou, Ken Watanabe, Brad Pitt on an island and they are sex-starved and I am there for them, but I cannot thou sek (cheat/curi makan). If I say loud-loud, no lah, I on vegetarian, later people think I hypocrite. Then, not to mention the kind of remarks…”aiyor…lu lang hong kau pun u siang sin anneh meh” (eh, you people Christians also believe this?) Like hell, you think hong kau mm si lang ah? (hong kau – Christian) Then, followed by those “aiyah, hong kau hamik kau pun si ho lah” (whatever faith, also good). Like NMCH, if not what you think? I follow cult issit? You think I alien issit?
And this cilakak atm, never tell me in advance, already put words into my mouth. “Eh, tonight you have nothing right? We go for seafood dinner.” I cannot even escape and say I want to go for Stations of the Cross. I didn’t plan to go because it is always too rush for me. By the time, I get dinner on the table, get atm to take over the kids-sitting, I reached there and before I can unwind, the show (mass) is over. It is not sincere so I better stay away.
KNN, I just promised that I won’t rant about Cheng Beng and I just did. Niamah. You better don’t comment if you do not know where I am getting at. I am just damn trapped and I just want to rant. Being married to a man with four sisters and three brothers is damn suffocating, ok? Even my kids have been trained to answer the phone, “Harloww…my mommy ah? She not here wor *gives smiles to me*, she bathing wor.” Because I am not interested to know where to buy seng le (chicken/duck for worshipping) at 5 am in the morning.