So I was Talking to Myself...

: Last Sunday, 9.25am, I suddenly found myself having a Brainy-Baddie discussion.
: Brainy-Baddie discussion? Is that what kids nowadays are calling ‘being delusional’?
: Talking to myself isn’t delusional. A lot of people do it and it’s healthy intrapersonal communication.
: ‘Healthy’ and ‘intrapersonal’ in one sentence can only be found in masturbation subjects. Under Self-Porn.
: Dirty talk like that is why you’re the Baddie.
: And you think you have any claim to being Brainy? You’re naming metaphorical entities of yourself! How stupid is that? This better not be a regular feature.
: Why? Because I might find myself interesting?
: No, it’s nice to appreciate one’s self in a way that has nothing to do with losing 2 kilograms.
: So what’s the problem?
: You’re blogging this.
:Your point is missing. It’s my blog.
: Unless telepathy can be done online, should you really be writing your every thought?
: Considering I’m pretty limited in freedom of speech, take this as a new form in freedom of mind.
: Ahh...
: See? This is why I’m Brainy.
: Well, we’ve already brainy’d this far. What’s bothering you?
: A lot of things. Starting with the project proposal I was supposed to send to Dr. Visor.
: Your new supervisor? Sweetie, that’s not a problem, that’s just being lazy.
: Yeah, it’s more tedious than hard-to-do. And he’s expecting it by January 23rd. This Wednesday.
: OK, you better DIY ASAP. The man’s a phD.
: Let’s put that on top of the list and get started in 2 hours. What else do we got?
: I thought I was the one giving the answers here.
: You know as much as I know because you’re me, so you propose something I know you know I know we’re - I’m - in trouble with.
: I rejoice in the knowledge that you know I know what you want me to know.
: Smart-ass.
: Makes two of me. Our next trouble would be when I can get the Taco Bake recipe started.
: For the blog entry? That’s not really a big issue since there’s no serious dateline.
: Yeah, but I already got the step-by-step oral process written out. Yet Mak is so often at the kitchen; I can’t do this and take pictures of the details without rousing her chatterbox.
: Eeep! The only way when too many cooks spoil the casserole happens when Mak’s one of them.
: She’s an industrious and busybody cook. That comes for being the eldest daughter of eight siblings.
: And the recipe is full of cheddar cheese. Do you think you should gain more kg’s?
: After the neighbour’s house warming party yesterday? After all that honey-barbecued chicken wings and mini-pizzas? Point taken.
: Settled then. Postpone the Taco Bake recipe blog entry until, say Tuesday?
: Great! Little brother Genius will have gone back to Malaya University by then and he hates cheese.
: Psycho.
: Glad I have a mutual agreement with myself.
: We’re - I'm - turning crazy. Let’s get on with this before my sanity disappears completely.
: Your turn.
: Next on the to-figure-out list is how to post blogs more frequently.
: Skip that. We had this discussion before, right? I can’t.
: Yeah. I could sure use some money falling from the sky right about now.
: Keep wishing. Next?
: Mak is sending me to Liza’s for an alteration-,
: Hold it. Aren’t you Liza?
: Don’t be obtuse. Liza is, of course, my real name but we both know what I meant was KakLiza the Tailor.
: I’m just helping you be Brainy, hehehehe.
: Stop helping. You’re not helpful. You’re not even funny.
: Wait for tomorrow then. I might find something to amuse myself. Just go on.
: I need an alteration on the ‘jubah’ dress I brought from my cousin.
: Yeah, that dress is as big as a tent. In fact, our baby nephew did use it as a tent the other day.
: That ‘jubah’ dress was made in the Middle East for tall Mediterranean women. Unfortunately it was brought by a small Asian woman who then sold it to another Asian woman who’s only slightly taller.
: Don’t start talking about yourself in 3rd person now. It’s bad enough that there are two of me here.
: Well, back to Liza’s-,
: Which one?
: Stop that.
: Hehehehe...
: KakLiza the Tailor can alter the ‘jubah’ dress by cutting the hem and make the waist more form-fitting.
: ‘Jubah’s aren’t supposed to be form-fitting. It’s a traditional Arab dress that didn’t managed to be the fancy bed sheet it was originally designed for.
: It’s the weird Islamization this country is going through. Since the West is warring with the Middle East, everybody with a ‘blue burqa’ sister is spending tourist money in Asian economy.
: And bringing their ‘blue burqa’ sister with them.
: And our men think it’s sexy. Thankfully for me, it’s only the ‘jubah’ I’ll have to deal with.
: Quick, find a liberal boyfriend before your uncles thinks arranged marriages are sexy too.
: That one will be our - my - problem in the not-so-immediate future.
: Speaking of problems - which what all I’ve been thinking - how is KakLiza’s trip a problem?
: That’s in case Mak objects to the dress being more form-fitting. You know that she’s the one who really wants to wear the clothes she brought for me.
: ‘Jubah’s and ‘kurung’ dresses. She still refuses to acknowledge that I’m a ‘kebaya’ and blue jeans girl.
: Hopefully banking on KakLiza’s experience with every daughter’s maternal nightmare, she’ll agree to some degree with me.
: It’s just so nice to have a Kampung Baru private seamstress instead of an expensive KL-modiste.
: Mak did have her good uses.
: Glad I have a mutual agreement with myself. Again.
: All problems over now?
: Just one more. Do you think Ayah had made the police report yet?
: About last night? That we got robbed?
: You know I know you kn-,
: Okay, okay! I’m guessing he did. I think.
: We don’t know really. He didn’t say anything about it at breakfast. But Ayah being Ayah, he wouldn’t let something like that go down easily.
: Wounded male pride methinks.
: Luckily it’s just the garden chairs and the thieves didn’t break into the house.
: 3 green iron-wrought garden chairs and small matching table. Heavy set, probably used a large van or a lorry to cart them off. Scrap metal thieves.
: Those were the garden chairs which we laid out the trash-box bee hive massacre the other night.
: It’s the faulty old automatic gate. It doesn’t close properly anymore. You have to stick your thumb to it.
: So the thieves found an unsecured gate. They just waltz into the front garden by our front gate?
: I would say I’m appalled as you are but that’ll be redundant.
: Heh. Neighbourhood security guards don’t clock in until after 11pm. The chairs were still there at around 9.30pm. So the time the garden chairs vanished was maybe between 10pm and 10.45pm.
: While we were out at Tesco hypermarket obviously.
: Ayah must have felt guilty. Those were his well-used, morning-coffee RM$1200+ chairs-table set and he was at home during the robbery.
: So he’s going to be extra moody for the next few days.
: Guilty mood, eh? Tip-toe around him?
: Obviously. He’s already asking repeated questions about my studies.
: That’s because he caught you watching Animax on Astro.
: It’s morning on a Sunday. When else do I get time to watch Animax?
: Weeknights, late at night, preferably after 11pm. You can keep watch on the trash-box iron doors while you’re at it, in case the thieves come back to get those.
: Haha. Hoho. Oh my ribs. We should have kept those damned bees. Shouldn’t I be studying for something? Like that project proposal?
: I’ll get the guidelines.
: And I seeeeeeeeeeriously need to get out more.