Sesame, Smeshame

So last Sunday was my mom's birthday. My aunt brought her to Traders Hotel, KL for buffet lunch. Get this: The buffet is usually Rm90++ per head, but with my aunt's executive privilege or something like that, lunch came up to Rm45 nett per pax, including a main course, which is super cheap! My mom and my aunt spent three frickin' hours at the buffet. I think all they did was eat, then sit there and digest while gossiping, then eat some more, and sit and digest while gossiping, and repeat five times over for three hours. I shall do that too, the next time I go to a buffet! It's so smart and economical. Y'know, considering that after eating for about 15 minutes I feel like I'm already full enough.

Look! My mommy so happy. The staff at Traders sang a birthday song for her and gave her a tinny cake too. Personally, I don't like singing birthday songs, nor do I like having birthday songs sung to me. I love birthdays, don't get me wrong. It's just the singing part that gets to me. Why? I don't know. I always get embarrassed when people start singing the song to me in public. Or anywhere, for that matter. My face just flares bright red! I really don't know why, because I kinda love attention, but I dunno, the birthday song attention just seems a little forced and fake. What am I talking about?!

My mom's birthday cake. Small hor. But apparently it's super good! My mom says it's super rich and thick and chocolaty. It does look good. My mom is thinking of bringing me there for my birthday celebration. Yay! Orgasmic chocolate cake, here I come!

I think turning 50 is a very big deal, cuz my mom had a birthday lunch, then a birthday dinner! Yup, that night we had a birthday dinner for my mom with the extended family. It's such a big deal that my parents brought wine to the restaurant and even let me have a glass. Well, considering that my parents are big on the no-drinking thing, it's kind of a big thing. Even though I do drink when I'm not with them, but what they don't know won't hurt them right? Heehee. But what made things all the sweeter is that my brothers weren't allowed to drink. Okay lah, my little brother is only 15, letting him drink would mean that my parents are irresponsible, but my older brother is 21, but he's still not allowed to drink. Bwahahaha! Yes, I'm basking in my effervescent childishness.

Oh and my very annoying cousin, for some reason or another, decided to poke poke poke me with a very sharp toothpick. If it wasn't for the fact that I was sitting a mere two seats away from my dad, I would have screamed bloody murder and yanked the toothpick out of his pudgy hands and poke poke poke him back! On his pimples, no less! Yes, I'm still basking in my irrepressible childishness. Leave me be!

Which kind of made me wonder, would getting my tattoo hurt like that too? Because the toothpick really really hurt! But then I got to thinking... Shouldn't be right? Cuz the tattoo needles are very fine and um, the tattoo artists are not supposed to stab me with it. Ohmygosh, people with tatts! Reassure me! I'm getting mine done in two weeks' time. I'm nervous yet excited. I'm getting inked, yo.

Anywayyy. After dinner when we got back home, my brother was asking me to take picture of him for his Facebook profile picture because he was wearing a nice, proper button down shirt (which I picked out. Hah!).

My mommy in a dress. I only call her mommy behind her back when I don't harbor any ill feelings towards her. Look at my brother's stupid post-braces grin.

And my favourite picture of the night:

HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA
HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA
HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA

My dad is sooo lame.