pelf-ism is contagious

What do you do when you’re forced to the end of the cliff, and the only choices you had was to either jump off the cliff, or to fight back?

I chose to fight back, which will explain my temporary absence in the blogosphere in the future.

Wish me luck as I will need LOTS of them. And hugs too.

For the benefit of those who can’t read between the lines: I’ve never cried over my project or the degree of difficulties or responsibilities or pressures that come with it. But I did today. A lot, too. God, please help me

My cute little sister gave Mum and I two passes to watch 3D Sharks at the IMAX Theater at Berjaya Times Square. And since both the “jakun” mother and sister have never been to the IMAX Theater, both of them (exaggeratedly) jumped at the opportunity *winks*

So in the morning, Mum and I drove from Puchong where we stayed at my cousin’s place to the Bukit Jalil LRT station. I still haven’t gotten used to driving in KL (or any other nearby districts) and I just can’t imagine how my Mum did it. I mean, she learned the routes the hard way, by memorizing which turns to take, after which billboards and road signs. Told you she’s a super Mum

We got off the train at the Hang Tuah station and boarded the Monorail from Hang Tuah to Imbi (which we realized — the last time we went to Sungai Wang — was nearer to Berjaya Times Square than the next station, Bukit Bintang). My cousin said that we could actually walk from Hang Tuah station to Imbi station but we were too lazy to walk in the scorching hot sun. So we took the Monorail instead

And what happened at the Monorail station was sooo embarrassing.. I read the sign which says that we were supposed to board the train at Platform A, but when a train arrived, Mum and I quickly ran up the stairs to board it. But my instinct told me that THAT wasn’t the right train. So I practically pulled Mum out of the train, and in a frenzy, I asked a Monorail staff who was leading a blind man into the coach whether it was going to Times Square.

He said, “No, you have to get over to Platform A.” *rolls eyes*

That embarrassing episode aside, 3D Sharks was so-so only. The narrator was the hawksbill turtle - and Mum didn’t realize this until we talked about it later. And the producers definitely didn’t know that hawksbill turtles DON’T eat jellyfish. The leatherbacks do, right? Right?!
Oh yea, we also saw the DIGI Yellow Man on the street outside Times Square. They must be filming another commercial I guess.. BTW, anybody knows who’s the cute guy?

And then there’s this little boy who was oblivious to his surroundings and didn’t really care how you reacted because he simply went up to the Yellow Man and started “beating” him with his balloons! Soo cute!

THE END.

Reading about how Jenn grew up with a cousin who was entitled to practically everything reminded me of my own story.

You see, when we moved from Ipoh to Melaka in 1990, we had nothing more than what we were wearing and what contained in the few boxes we transferred. My aunt — bless her soul — generously offered us a roof over our heads and willingly included us when they moved from an apartment lot to a new single-storey terrace house. Mum was given a room to herself, and my sister and I shared a room with our two cousin sisters.

We girls took the same school bus, went to the same school, came home and had the same foods for breakfast, lunch and dinner but we were simply different. While my aunt and uncle bought my cousins new school bags and clothes and shoes, all my sister and I did was just “look”. Not that my aunt and uncle were stingy and refused to buy us new stuff - it was just that we were brought up to not receive gifts if we didn’t earn it.

I remember there was once my aunt and uncle brought us kids to a shopping spree in town. My cousins were trying out sport shoes (they weren’t cheap) - those of different brand names, different designs, different sizes, different colours - and my sister and I just looked. My aunt, who probably sensed that I would love a new pair of sport shoes, offered to buy me a pair. But I refused. My aunt insisted that she buys me a pair, but I insisted otherwise. I even cried when she asked me why didn’t I accept her offer.

I didn’t decline the offer because the designs were bad-looking, nor because I’d prefer something else, but because the cheapest pair of sport shoes cost about 50 bucks. And I was afraid Mum would have to reimburse my aunt later. Because I knew though Mum could afford to pay for a pair of sport shoes, that would mean that she’d have to go without lunch for a week.

And when we were a little older, my aunt paid for a music teacher who came to our place to give my cousins organ lessons. I was just green with envy because I’d love to be included but I knew Mum couldn’t possibly pay for a private music teacher. My aunt, who probably sensed (again) that I’d love to try, persuaded Mum to allow me to take up organ lessons. She agreed, and I was the happiest kid on earth that particular day.

There were times when I wondered WHY we had to be the ones staying in my aunt’s house. I wondered why we had to be the ones who would only be given any considerations AFTER our cousins. I wondered why we had to be “second class”. But being “second class” made me realize that there are indeed a lot of people who are worse off than we were. There are a lot of kids who have never seen their daddy and mummy. A lot of kids had to see their daddy killed. A lot of kids never went to school. And a lot of kids go to bed hungry.

Boy, I should start counting my blessings!