Hey guys! I'm back from the slums! I was reading my recent posts, and thought "Gee.... What was I thinking, letting the incredibly boring and random left side of Me write here?".
I got up at cockcrow today, which is something I'm not used to anymore. My mom and I spent the morning baking Jarrold a cake, since it is his birthday today. Karen called about five hundred times. At first, expressing how upset she was that no invitation for Jarrold's birthday bash was extended to her. Then, trying to squeeze an invite out of mom. Mom stopped answering our house phone around 10 am. She then told me the story (for the millionth time) of a woman- that may or may not have existed- who died, after walking in the rain a week after she'd just given birth.
Anyway, Steven's back in Singapore for a couple of days, because he's got to feed his pet parakeets and change the litter in Scylla's box- His cat goes "Meow" but he really means "Hey!". Also, he misses his grandmother's pineapple tarts and none of his friends.
In honour of Lisa completing her Master Cleanse cleanse, and having Steven's flesh and bones in such close proximity again, we met for fries and ice cream last night. Steve brought along his cousin, Nigel, who has a face like a tourist attraction.
On the bus home from town, the kid in front of us wouldn't stop picking his nose. Nigel farted just to show him up, and then made me try to force a burp. I obviously couldn't because I'm not one of those burp- on- demand kind. Nigel was slightly offended and started calling me a hygiene snob. I had to cough violently for 2 whole minutes without covering my mouth and let him sniff my hair, to prove that I was not a hygiene snob. Does this mean we have given up on manners?
Have to go now. Love you all.
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