it is 0659 and i hear the mother storming down the stairs in a huff. she switches off the tv, and ends up at the foot of the sofa where i have collapsed for the night. the mother starts screaming all sorts of nasty things that i shan't put up here; you can ask me when you see me.
i went to zouk on wednesday again. this would prolly be the 4th/5th consecutive wednesday i've gone out clubbing. it was fun, would've stayed longer actually, but i made home by 0300 -
earliest in weeks. upon reaching home, i made myself dinner/supper. i watched grey's anatomy on star world over supper, then fell asleep on the sofa (
without removing my makeup, but i've changed out). and i wake up to the madness of the mother.
one of the rants was about how she was locked out of the house. oh wait, that has happened to me for a dozen over times - and i didn't exactly have any one around to rescue me thankyouverymuch.
'i gave you my key, and you haven't returned it to me.'
my thoughts which i unfortunately and very smartly didn't verbalise, 'you didn't say it was your key, you didn't tell me that i was suppose to return it to you. and fine, you can have it back. keys are supposed to slot into keyholes that most people call home.'
the mother has stormed back up to her room after giving me a lecture involving the following: locking her out of the house, not returning her key, sleeping in my undies, having a nightlife, being irresponsible, sleeping in the day (
which she is never around to confirm i don't), always sleeping in front of the tv when i have a bed upstairs, wearing my makeup to sleep, not doing the laundry (
have you forgotten that i have brothers?) and others. yes, i have cleaned up the delivery.
honestly, i think the mother is mad because i saw dad. for a whole 3 minutes.
aftermath: i took the key out, put it in the cup which holds her keys. and silently, like a curse under my breath, say 'i hate you'.
valerie anne
in my 20s and wonderful.
dressed to dress you.
. i would do you, but i can't. it's just the wrong season right now.
I've been in canada for days.
. in need of a recommendation
. tattoo
. rolex
. prada bag
. hermes birkin/kelly
. hermes scarf
. prada penguin coin purse
. suped up VW jetta mk3 '97
. 911 Turbo
. WRX
. smoked e-codes/fogs
. porsche deep dish rims
.
my driver's license
.
a shaven head for my 18th
. be a somebody
. make {gravi.tee}
.
snowboard
.
own my first car
. travel: NYC, all over europe,
japan,
mexico, chile, argentina, spain, greece, laos, vietnam, bali, dubai, amsterdam
. publish a book entitled "you better quote val, or else" -
recommended by derek goh
.
fashion school
. travel: roadtrip canada
. travel: roadtrip USA
.
move out
. own a house
. ride the dragon in tokyo
. go fish/camping for a weekend
. open a cafe/boutique
. horse-riding
. speak korean/japanese/spanish/french
. skydive over mauritius waters
. white-water raft above level 3
. bungee jump from a suspension bridge
. break the world record for the longest time on a loop-the-loop roller coaster ride
. save an endangered species
. AND prove to my mum that i'll be married before 35.
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