just minishorts.

When I was not yet in a relationship, my mother gave me a list of things I have to look for when I agreed to go out with a man.

1. Must be Chinese.
2. Must be older than you.
3. Must not be 6 years older, because Monkey clash with Tiger.
4. Must be educated at least until university.
5. Must have stable job.
6. Must have car.
7. Must be loyal.
8. Must not be Muslim.
9. Must not be kiam siap, otherwise susah whole life.
10. Must not be lazy, otherwise you have to work your entire life to feed your husband.
    
11. Must not like to talk to other women except you only.
12. Must not be a smoker.
13. Must not drink too much.
14. Preferably hokkien. Preferably if pure hokkien.
15. Preferably earning more than you.
16. Preferably at least 3 years older than you.
17. Preferably from a well-to-do family.
18. Preferably willing to pay everything for you and has the your money is your money, my money is also your money kind of attitude.

… I think the list was far longer than 18 items, and I'm glad to say that I've broken most of the rules except for #1, 8, 12, 16,17, and 18.

Yesterday I read April's blog hoh, and I found out that her mother has discreetly given her an almost identical list also. Oh oh, this is so cool. It means that kindred spirits have the same demanding parents, tee-hee.

It's Monday again.

I'm back at work.

It's Monday and I'm back at work.

I can't believe it's Monday.

Am I back at work?

Damn I'm back at work.

I AM BACK AT WORK.

Yay.

Who am I kidding?

It's Monday. I AM BACK AT WORK. It's really Monday. It's time for me to work. It's working time. I'm supposed to be back at work.

…

I should've taken the entire 15 days off.

My mother comes from the northern PAS controlled state of Kelantan, and she goes on her balik-kampung journeys several times a year. Me, I'm the prodigal daughter, where twice a year is often too much for me–plane tickets burn a hole in your pocket, even if they're from Air Asia. Mum doesn't like the stingy side of me, and she often reminds me of my aging grandmother and how it's important to set aside a traveling fund that includes the quarterly trip to Kota Bharu…

But Chinese New Year is the balik kampung trip that you can't avoid. As a kid I used to love those CNY trips to KB, because that's the only time when you can earn a quick buck (or maybe hundreds). It was fun because that was when I got to see my cousins from around the country and it was when we started looking for the new additions to the family we'd never got to see before.

This year I've got two new cousins to say hello to, and they'll probably think me a looming giantress when I pinch their cheeks.

I can't quite recall when Chinese New Year stopped being 100% fun for me. It was probably a few years back when I just crossed the legal age and became an adult. The switch was quite abrupt. Suddenly, I was expected to help in the kitchen. Suddenly I was expected to do the heavy chores. Suddenly I was expected to sit down till late, waiting for my uncles to finish their long catch-up conversations, and then I was expected to help do the cleaning up. It's still fun, taking the ang pau is still fun… but there are catches, because each time you head out shopping for extra sundries, you're expected to pay from your pockets.

Look, even after 6 years I'm still adjusting to the new responsibilities required of me as an adult member of the family.

And make no mistake about it, I STILL LOVE ALL THE WORK that comes with the celebrations. I enjoy it all, the cooking, going to the restaurant to get the suckling pig for the reunion dinner, cleaning up the dishes, playing croupier with the kids while we do the once-a-year-gambling, it's all good fun and I love it.

There's one thing I don't quite like about CNY though. I just didn't like having to go back to 14 uncles and aunties bugging me about boyfriends and getting married. Being over 20 is tough like that… and honestly it borders on ridiculous when you think about how you started having crushes on guys when you're around 16, and your aunts sternly warn you that 'teenagers cannot have boyfriends'…

Suddenly you're 20 and everyone wants to know who you're dating. And oh the scrutiny, it's hell more than annoying.

'So, got boyfriend adi ah? How old ah? Doing what ah? Drive what car ah? Where you met him ah? He got buy you gifts or not? Got take you out or not? Got money or not? Got ask you to marry him or not?'

'Eerrrrmmmm…'

'Why don't bring him back? When are you going to bring him back? His parents treat you good or not? Got brothers or not? Got sisters or not? His brother marry adi or not? His sister kahwin adi ah? So when you getting married ah? Must go and see if suitable or not you know?'

'Ermmmmm…'

The good thing is as long as you shut up and continue to play dumb, the questions will keep flooding in and they'll just forget what the previous query was.

Ah yes, those were the years when I went home to KB, just the two of us, just mom and me. This year, heh, there's going to be slight difference with the balik kampung entourage.

Eric's coming with me to KB to see my Grandmother. And him being a KL boy with no kampung to balik to, this trip to KB is probably going to be a huge culture shock for poor Eric. I have a feeling also that my own CNY experience is going to be a mixed bag of emotions, although I'm anticipating it, I can't say I'm happily excited. Somewhere deep inside there's a nervous wreck waiting to be unleashed, and I can only pray that I'm all stable and ready to receive whatever may come from my busybody uncles and aunts.

We beat the Puchong jam and found ourselves enjoying some signature Tai-Chow dishes last night.Being a working Chinese in KL is like this, when work gets late, dinner becomes an easy choice. We either head off to a nearby hawker centre, or somewhere where the cooks stir fry their dishes with great enthusiasm and an unhealthy dose of Ajinomoto.

Eric got us three dishes: frog, calamari and chinese romaine lettuce (i.e. kong bou tin kai, ham dan sotong, fu yu yau mak). When the dishes came Eric squealed at the frog, saying that it was his favourite dish. So I decided to tell him something my mom mentioned previously as he tucked into a chopped up frog leg.

'You know what my mom said the other time you order tin kai at that restaurant near your house?'

'Yrmmmm?'

'She said you shouldn't be eating these stuff, not that much…'

'Yrmmmm… why not?'

'Her specific words were,'Eh when Eric and you get married and you start to make babies, he cannot have this kind of dishes lah…''

'What? You mum said what?'

'She said, when we get married and start to make babies, you can't eat frog.'

He almost choked on the leg. 'What's the reason?'

'She said that something in the frog, and in other ye mei dishes like squirrel or bear or dog or monkey or snake, is bad for your sperm and subsequently bad for the baby woh…'

'I don't eat those kind of things lah.'

'Well the last time we had soup at that herbal pot restaurant over in SS2, you ordered squirrel something kan?'

'Aiyah one time only,' he said. 'Try only. I mean you have to try exotic dishes once in a blue moon right?'

'Well since then mum is always fussing over the kind of things you eat and she says its 'No good, no good, bad for your future generations.''

'So she actually said that when you and I are allowed to legally make babies I'm not to eat exotic stuff?'

I nodded. 'Uhuh. Right after we had that frog dish near your house…'

My Eric, he grinned, and then taking another piece from the dish and proceeding to tuck in extra noisily, said, 'OK lor. I eat after we have sex. Heheheh..'

'…'

It's true. Women who really love you always say the same thing each time they receive bouquets, 'Why would you waste the money on roses? Thank you, but I'd rather get something else.'

So this was what I came home to on Sunday, apart from the dinner, the movie, and the pair of jeans from Union Bay (to add on to my CNY new clothes stash). And predictable me called my man to repeat that line, complete with the usual 'HOW MUCH IZZIT? MUST BE SO EXPENSIVE… AIYAH WHAT A WASTE OF MONEY….'

Eric's usual, 'You like mah… '

And he's right. I love them roses A LOT … which woman doesn't like receiving flowers from the man she loves? So who am I kidding each time I say, 'You shouldn't have?'

Really, honestly, he should not have, but since he did buy me roses, the bouquet really did complete the day in romantic wholesomeness…

Mental note to self: MUST LEARN TO SAY THANK YOU AND SHUT UP THE NEXT TIME I GET ROSES…