What a martyr I was today. What a martyr I've been the past few days actually.

Drove my sis around to cut leaves. Drove my sis to Tropicana Club and back for her prom preparations. Drove home and back from Tropicana to pick up her prom dress she forgot. Spent half an hour guarding the door and the rest of the night hovering around.

Didn't even claim a cent, except to vanquish some of my tiny debts (within the family, of course).

This is my only shot of the night with my sister. We didn't even get to take one with all 3 sisters. :( Poor Aggie.

So this is how those diet ads trick you.

It's almost a ritual for my sisters to make me try on old clothes from my parents and marvel at the size discrepancy.

Dress As Your Friend

I've never really given much thought to the meaning of clothes. Sure, everybody wants to look good, and looking good can mean anything to anybody: revealing less, revealing more, colour, monotone. But until we did our little social experiment this weekend, it never really hit me that I placed so much weight on fashion as part of my identity.

So my idea from Cougar Town finally materialized, that we would dress up as each other (drawing random lots) and see who would be the most successful, i.e. with the most number of people being able to guess who she was dressing as.

And the honest truth was that I felt really uncomfortable in my outfit. I wore a typical Shang get-up of jeans and a long sleeved traditional printed top. This was after I tried on another combination that I would have rather shot myself in the head than gone out in. Initially, I just felt quite unattractive and unstylish just because the style was so not me (probably too conservative, haha). It was definitely not just me because my friends were also comforting me, so to speak. At the end of the day, I finally managed to forget my outfit and stopped being self-conscious about the image I was portraying to people around me.

Still was glad to go home, though. Funnily enough, I've probably felt perfectly comfortable wearing this in my early teens. How times have changed.

Burst out laughing halfway, trying to do a classic Shang pose.

It was an interesting situation and apparently common, since everyone expressed some sort of discomfort or restriction in choosing and wearing their outfits. It makes me question how vain I really am, that who I am depends on what I wear. Okay, I've always been vain but it's a little disturbing to know that I'm that vain.

There we go, I make the best Shangky fo sho.

Of course, nobody could have guessed that we weren't really the people we looked like, or more precisely, the personalities our clothes suggested. The only people feeling weird in their skins were us. Food for thought, ooooooohh.

Bet you can't tell right? Yeah, it's an inside joke, folks.

Oh alright, from L to R it's Shang, Ale, Stef, Phyl, Shu and Pui.

I love my DKNY bag!

Yippeee!!

Me padre and his early Xmas gift, because he's not around for our Xmas Eve family party tomorrow.

Holiday Idleness

Tried the strawberry face mask. Which smelled totally edible but was so hard to scrub off my face became dehydrated instead.

Played around with glutinous rice balls.

Turned them into really disgusting shapes.

Spied on the Little Evil terrapin whose hobby is chasing the Big Benevolent terrapin.

Ran away when it started chasing me instead.

Food Frenzy

My family has this insane obsession with food. Especially now that it's the holidays, all we do is get up and loiter around until it's lunchtime. Then at about noon we start hovering around the kitchen, even more so when my grandma's visiting KL, and start pestering her about how long the food will take to be done. Then we wolf down several helpings.

Our ears perk up at the sound of dishes clanging, or the fridge door closing. When it's dinner time, we get excited at the sound of someone coming home because most likely they've brought food along.

In between main meals, we scavenge around for snacks: chips, pastries, ice cream, sandwiches, anything that looks good. Doesn't help that the fridge is also always stocked with juices, and some sort of leftover pasta or birthday cake.

So I've concluded, the only way to survive in my family is to have a high metabolic rate.

Finally got round to reading this and it's pretty good! Though I kinda skim through all the finance bits, because it's just beyond me. Then again, it's been a really long time since I've read a proper mystery novel so I'm not the best critic.

Shall go back to Singapore and read the rest of the books in the series, thanks to JP.