Halloween, 2002
encounter with the class-A resident bitch
Listening
to: Lit - Miserable
Reading: nothing
To be perfectly frank, today = shite.
It started off with a shock. I woke up to cloudy grey skies and this entire atmosphere of
morning. It was serene, I even parted my curtains to see if Za had left for school yet.
A look at the clock and I fell out of bed in
shock.
It was 2 pm.
When I looked out the window again, sure enough, there was Za and the driver driving away,
just that she’d just returned from school.
I guess waking up at 2pm wouldn’t be so bad... the rain beating my window was more of the light-and-sound show instead of the torrential variety, and a blackout occurred, causing me to have lunch uncomfortably in the dark and read a book by flashlight. Then I remembered that I had an appointment with my dentist at 2:30 pm. It wouldn’t be possible for me to be there on time if I took my shower, so…
What was my Halloween costume? Simple.
A freshly-showered girl.
It was a very disturbing and unpleasant sensation. I’ve never walked out of the house
unshowered before and I kept ‘feeling’ a layer of unclean miniscule…
things, on me. As a consolation of sorts, my hair was behaving itself (looked great).
I decided to brighten up my day a little by visiting Kinokuniya again, despite it being so out of the way that it only merited rare visits. In the car my dad told me that my swimming teacher of 6 years had passed away. I hadn’t heard from him in ages and I made a mental note to write my condolences to his family, even though Lake Club printed the obituary late (he passed away a month or so ago).
At Kinokuniya I bought the Wordsworth Edition
of the Collected Works of Oscar Wilde, along with Jane Eyre (I had read it before, now I
own it) with a beautiful red and black cover of a gothic doorknob (to Rochester's attic, I
presume).
The idea of having pretzels after was a disaster. They made me wait ten minutes for my
burnt Glazin’ Raisin, and within two minutes of holding it in my hands, I
accidentally dropped it. The little plastic cup of glaze fell perfectly next to the
pretzel, not a drop spilled. I just stood there, and stared pathetically at my pretzel on
the shopping mall floor, mocking me.
And while I resisted spewing profanity, people were kind enough to walk around me and it.
Defeated, I made a few miserable wipes at the underside of the pretzel, closed my eyes
and...
Halloween was not made any easier because of
Thursday's TV programmes.
Roswell. Dark Angel. Need I say more?
I somehow couldn’t read… despite the ongoing super book-shopping frenzy.
Music! That would liven up this day. I had a
strange urge to listen to my Apocalyptica Cult CD.
I opened the case and the CD was missing.
I remembered that Za stole this CD sometime ago and I ransacked her room knowing she took it. I was surprised to find three other CDs as well, all of which I thought I had lost for good. So I confronted her and demanded my CD back.
Za: I didn’t take it!
Me: Yes you did, you conveniently took it that day I forgot to lock it
up.
Za: … Well, I didn’t open it!
Me: Bullshite! Why the hell did I find it in your room?
Za: Yes I did take your CD, but I never opened it!
This, coming from the girl who yells “I didn’t take it!” when Mum asks for
her lipstick, then surrendered when Mum found it on her dressing table in plain sight.
This, coming from the girl who insists repeatedly that she put the swim goggles on the edge of the hotel pool and someone took it, before we found it in the hotel room.
This, coming from the girl who would rather die than admit she made a mistake (because heaven forbid, then she’d actually be human). It's really the classic boy-cries-wolf situation.
How am I supposed to believe her this time,
let alone ever?
Me: Yeah. Okay. So let me get this straight. You took the trouble to
steal my CD from my room when I wasn’t looking, on that one day I forgot to lock it
away from you. Then when you stole it, you didn’t even open the case to listen to it.
Za: Yes! (receives glare) You gotta believe me!
Yeah. I’ve heard that before.
You know, I wouldn’t make such a big fucking deal about it if I didn’t have to
beg MPH for weeks just for them to bring a copy in for me. Like how I wouldn’t make
such a big fucking deal out of my missing Buffy The Vampire Slayer OST CD (she took it, it
went missing) if it wasn’t a UK gift from Damien.
The two biggest reasons why I make such a big fucking deal about my lack of privacy, why I
lock away everything I can in my own bedroom, is because of one day when I left the house
and waited for Dad to come pick me up to go somewhere. When he didn’t come, I went
back in the house and as I opened my bedroom door I saw my sister and her friends, in my
room, on my bed, floor, computer chair reading my magazines. Playing
with my computer. And my sister was listening to my CDs as if they were
always hers.
What she was excitedly saying to her friends about the band blasting from my speakers sounded eerily exact to what I once told her in a moment of absolute love for their music.
Biggest reason #2 is that one day we had an argument, and I got so tired of it I just shut up, looked away and didn’t listen to her rambling anymore. She waited for my angry retort and when she realised that I wasn’t even paying attention, she marched into her room, came out with my journal. The one I thought I had lost in Kedah. And knowing she now had my absolute full attention, she opened it up and ripped the pages to shreds.
I can’t ever forget that victorious look on her face, knowing that I was crushed, and if there ever was a winner in our fights, that day she won.
… you know, I didn’t mean for me to make this entry a bitching session about my sister. I’m writing fresh after the fight, and people having fights tend so easily to backtrack to previous events to get them even more pissed off. I hate myself because I’ve done exactly that and succeeded.
I’m never going to fucking see my
Apocalyptica CD anymore, am I? ... God, not again.
Shite. I could cry right about now. I could.