Thursday, May 28, 2009

make up to break up

i don't consider myself to be a hygiene freak. i will drink out of the same soup bowl as everyone else. i can stand not having a shower for a day or two. i can even stand to wear the same underwear for two days if i'm too tired to do the laundry. but for some reason i absolutely cannot stand sharing make up. my foundation to be exact. eyeliner, mascara even lip gloss - go for it. what's mine is yours. but touch my foundation and consider urself dead.

that's why to my shock horror this morning, when i found my foundation brush used and the bottle decreased in volume i felt quite faint. it could only be mother dearest (again i say dearest with gritted teeth and a shudder down my spine). monica can't exactly come upstairs and wayne wouldn't touch it (although i do catch him eyeing it up sometimes hmmm...) so that only left mother dearest.

i know your probably thinking it's your own mother! she gave birth to you and you even had her breast milk! (i still claim that i vomitted it back up when i was a baby to this day). but come on. seriously. would you let hitler use your razor? exactly! and yes. that was the exact comparison i was going for thank you very much!!

so tonight at dinner i subtly asked her "are you running out of your make up?" and she was like "nope." i wanted to scream "LIAR!" but i just said "oh coz my foundation was used this morning." now everyone in my family knows how sensitive i am on this topic and they all kinda stopped eating for a bit and just flicked their eyes from me to mother dearest.

get this she says to me "you look so pretty i just wanted to use it to look as pretty as you!" you may be thinking awww so sweet but no!! do not fall for it!!! this coming from the woman that said i looked "fine" at the night of my school ball and i later won best dressed that night whoo! so you get my drift??
i just said you can have it. i don't want it anymore. (i thought i was being very very generous here by the way!)
and you could honestly just feel the air kind of hum and vibrate and next thing i know, a fork is thrown at me (sharp side first). yes. you read correctly.
a fork.
thrown.
at me.
by my own mother.
next came some food and the knife.
and she starts to yell "you ungrateful little slut!" (if you haven't guessed already, that's her favourite adjective for me). apparently i should be grateful that she gave me life and by me giving her my make up that she just said a moment ago was great was an insult?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!
i looked to the old man for some support and he just said that i should have just binned it and bought a new one. are you serious??

wayne looks nervously around as if he was gonna be the next target practice for mother dearest, grabs his plate and moves to the next room. i tried to follow but monica rams me with her (2 tonne!!!) wheel chair and starts calling me ungrateful and selfish.
i hobble upstairs, have a shower (as i am covered in chicken curry) and throw all my make up out.
i have a melon sized bruise on my ankle and three little dents on my arm from the fork. (i tell ya what, that woman sure can throw!)
on the bright side, at least i get to go shopping tomoro for new make up ;)
XOXO
B

Wednesday, May 27, 2009

The First Chapter

Ok so there's no easy way to break it to you. This blog is about my nut house of a family and our lives. Think Brothers and Sisters mixed with a little bit of South Park and a hint of The Osbournes and you'll get a somewhat vague idea of it all.

The first thing you need to know about being a Burmese girl (even worse, the youngest in your family) is that you are pretty much the family slave. Cleaner, mediator, psychiatrist, the lot. There's three of us kids. Me (youngest, 21), Wayne (middle and ONLY boy, 24), and Monica (eldest, 27) living with mother dearest and the old man both of which have ridiculously tiring jobs and work all day.
Ok here's the crazy. We all live together. Yep. Under one roof. Yes it's a big roof but somehow mother dearest's voice carries to every corner of the house making it seem like the smallest and hollow house ever. Why don't we move out?? Well, Monica is in a wheelchair coz of some dumb disability and Wayne is just too damn lazy to move out. As for me, trust me I'm trying...
Told the old man and mother dearest that I'm moving out at the end of the year once i graduate.

I kid you not, this is what follows...
The old man did the "we came here with nothing and now we live in a mansion. You want to leave us?? Why do you want to leave me?? Do you not love me anymore?? If you move out, you are spitting on our hard work we have done to achieve all this!"
Mother dearest (and I say 'dearest' with the most wry and sarcasm filled tone) started the whole "leave her! Let her do what she wants! If she wants to go and be a slut then let her! [apparently moving out = you are a slut] She's in the gutter now! We tried so hard! She's losing all her values and respect for herself!" (see what i mean by crazy??)

Both went on for god knows how long. I just said ok and left it at that for now. I wonder what will happen when i tell them that I'm engaged... No even after like, 6months of being engaged to my boyfriend, I still have yet to tell my parents. Don't look at me like that! I know it's shocking but i'm waiting for the right moment!! If they reacted like that to me wanting to move out, imagine what would happen if i told them i was getting engaged!! Well firstly, they will say i'm too young. Then the old man will go on to say that he didn't bring me to New Zealand to get married so young. Mother dearest will continue to think i'm a slut and that i'm pregnant or something.

So yeah। That's just the start of it all. I have just barely begun to touch on the crazy. Trust me. There's more ;)
XOXO B