Bragging rights.

Happy Boxing Day everyone! I had a fabulous Yuletide celebration. Party at KY’s was a blast but not as crazy as before. Yeah, all old already cannot party, damn sad right?

I can’t believe it’s almost 2007! In about 1/2 a year I’ll be 23 and that means I’m officially fast-fowarding to mid-20s. I still feel like I haven’t grown up one bit, which is bloody scary because I know damn well I’m getting old (I can see it on my face, gasp) but I still dread the idea of making money, making babies, making up, making efforts and basically making anything at all.

This year, I was also certified by a doctor for having mental disorder. And I’m telling you this because I’m sickeningly addicted to attention, which of course is part of my illness so you have no place to judge me because this is also a disclaimer. The best thing about being sick is the extended “holiday” and getting to spend time at home re-living my former life as a bum/spoilt brat. Oh man, car paid by daddy and fuel by mommy and when they’re pissed with me leeching off, boyfriend as the chauffeur? I’m not kidding you when I said I’m about the luckiest bitch you’ve ever met.

So I came home to a bigass framed collage of photos taken throughout our two year relationship, made single-handedly by my Boo. The old-school scissors and glue method, mind you. I was so touched, my heart ached…because I was such a self-destructive idiot with zero self-esteem (am still am) who never thought I’d land myself on such a gem. It was a surreal moment (especially considering what a crazed ungrateful cibai I was to him prior). He would literally go the miles for me. Litefuckingrally. It’s not easy to date someone such as myself (sloppy, perverted, gross, confused, moody + latest:mentally sick, w00t) and he takes it all in stride and he inspires me to be a better person everyday. I admit I’d wear down any man with fucking jell-o for a spine, but my Boo is a rock. A true rock.

And he cooked Xmas dinner for my family. Stuffed bird, potatoes, boiled greens and all the trimmings (swoon now, ladies…that’s my man). I’m sorry I fucked up the custard for the pudding but as always, you saved the day again by whipping up super smooth custard with absolutely not a single lump in sight.

What about my parents? I don’t know how to express gratitude for my parents. Although being certified crazy has something to do with a tinge of Hainanese blood from Dad’s side (justttttttt kidding, daddy), I couldn’t ask for a better set of parents than mine. You guys had to deal with my teenage years, which were quite bad I admit (which is also why if given choice I would absolutely refrain from having a daughter cause if she turned out like me I’d be seriously damned) and I don’t know how you guys did it but it’s a fact today I haven’t turned to drugs or vice and my most criminal achievement is the huge p0rn folder I have on my desktop.

My brothers brighten up my semi-dull days with their constant bickering and teenage angst. My darlings, please keep in mind that I’ll always be the only daughter your parents have and only sister you have so I reserve the right to damn bully both of you whenever, wherever and however I like.

It’s Christmas season and I just feel like bragging. I can’t help it as I haven’t taken my medicine. MERRY BOXING DAY!

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