My 100th post

To mark my 100th post, I've decided to honor a certain sor poh who's been bugging me to blog about her for the longest time.

She is special to me, no doubt. Almost all of my balai polis visits had been with her, anyway.

I met her in college shortly before I turned 18. She bought me "birthday cake" and with a few other friends, surprised me in the student lounge on my birthday while they sang Happy Birthday to me. She bought me a helium balloon and we traipsed around in the pasar malam that night, much to the envy of toddlers and pre-schoolers. We got balloon you don't have.

She'd dragged me shopping while my left foot was still swollen and bandaged from a sprain days before. And she'd stood at the other side of a very busy road watching, mocking me, saying, "Eh, quickly lah run across. A lot of cars lah" while I tried very hard to limp across and not get hit by cars whizzing by.

I had her teethmarks on my arm once when we went clubbing. I had been slapped, vomitted on, screamed at, had my toes stomped on. All in the same night. With her.

And then there was a time when she sought refuge in my house for a couple of weeks and was being pursued by a "friend" of ours. That "friend" had flowers delivered to my house, where upon acceptance, the flowers were asked to take their place in the toilet.

How could I also forget the time when, under the pretext of being drunk, she'd kissed the guy I was having a crush on, right in front of my eyes? Of course, that episode was quickly forgotten when we had a near-fight with that guy and his friends the weekend after, 4 on 4.

I've seen her pick men up in clubs, I've seen the men do the same to her. I've never agreed to the way things are done. And I even had to rescue her from the washroom in Rox once. But she could've kicked him in the nuts or something, anyway, even if I wasn't there.

There was a time when I "ran away from home" and she provided a roof over my head for weeks. I slept in her bed, because she was seldom home; away at her boyfriend's place, I suspect.

Once, I went home with her to Penang, and for the 3 days I was there, I was treated like a king. I was fed and I was fed. And then I was fed, right up till the second I boarded the bus that was KL-bound.

The year I got my driving license, she asked to be chauffeured to an interview in Summit. At peak hour. With my Mum's 4WD. I had to brave the eternal Subang jam, that dreaded roundabout with about a million cars, and then I even had to park illegally because she claims that she was late for the interview. I had almost shat in my jeans then because I didn't know how to park, whether legal or illegal. And then she took over the steering wheel, and I almost shat and passed out because it was my mother's car. But all is well and she didn't get the job. Ha-ha.

Auntie, I hope you're happy that I finally blogged about you. And I hope you'll be even happier when you see the picture I posted up.














P/S You know I still love you, right?