Monday, December 17, 2007

Yeaah it’s a nice house, but it’s not a "Home"...

When I moved in to my parent’s new house last year, I had 3 months of sleepless nights. It was either Carlsberg or Hennesy every night before I tucked in, to the point, the Carlsberg in the fridge was diminishing very quickly and the woman in the house started yelling at me for finishing her booze. Uh huh, that woman happens to be my mother.

Concerned that her daughter was turning into an alcoholic (not aware of the daughter’s nocturnal activities outside the house), my mother blamed me for not earning enough to keep her mouth shut… Reminding me that I’m just a girl. Bound to leave the family some day….

I remember HOME, was the place I used to live. A one-bedroom, 500-square feet flat in Pekeliling where I grew up with my grandmother, brothers & aunts. Pekeliling days were just a bag of mixed emotions… I loved the place! Food, LRT, endless cabs, the sound of traffic! Of course, you’ll also get the stench of garbage, rats, drug addicts lurking, faulty lifts, dark corridors, etc… It had all the elements of a horror film! And imagine I lived there for 22 years….

My grandma insisted to stay in Pekelilings till her last days… When she was diagnosed of cancer in 2004, she moved back to my parent’s house in Jalan Ipoh so that my dad could finally hire a maid to care for her. I stayed on in Pekeliling for another year after she passed away. By the time I moved into my parent’s house in 2005, disorientated was the only word. It was awkward living under the same roof after 23 years of living apart!

Somehow, life was much simpler back in Pekeliling… It was work work work then gym after work, then I’d take the LRT back and walk slowly along the road home. Life didn’t consist of early morning jams, car problems, parking woes, appointments, and so much alcohol…. My day ended every night adoring my little fishes. Mundane, yeah… but it was so much more laidback, then….

Then I moved back to Jalan Ipoh aka. The House of Tears. The house so filled with painful memories. I stayed there for 8 months, and then I moved my ass out. My ex-bf found me a warm little condo in Permaisuri, where I stayed for 7 months. There was a place I could call my own, although brief it was. It was this little place that gave me the dream of a love nest with my Mike… His afternoon visits were sweet & the happiest times in my life… There's just something about Permaisuri that I just love & the fact that Mike started coaching swimming classes at the neighbouring condo where I used to stay kinda baffles me! Could it be it's a special place for both of us?... ;-P

When times got rough & housemates from Hell were too much to tolerate I moved my ass out again. This time to my dad’s spanking new house! It was ready and they were anxious to move in after 5 years of wait. It was alright that my room was the smallest room in the house, it didn’t matter that they didn’t allow me to swap rooms with my bro, Patrick… My dad was thoughtful enough to build me my own bathroom! I have the whole third floor to myself!

My recent face off with my mom reminded me again; when you live under your parent’s roof, you’ll always be subjected to their ridicule. I was never brought up to be a spoilt brat or anything close to that; but it sure suxx as hell having someone throwing acidic remarks about your low income & non-achieving career! …. ;-(

Well….as I said, its all nice & big, but it ain’t a place I call home. Though the view is Great, but I'll never forget the place where I came from...

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