Baby Lizards Are Easy To Squish


There is no rule that says I can’t blog more than once a day right? All this will change, I promise, once I get a job, gahh. Summer has technically just started, but I really need something to do, and if it earns me money, then great! It’s currently 12:41pm and I am not the slightest bit sleepy. I’m feeling very irritable right now, so I think I’m going to blog about things that bug me. Hmm, where to start. I actually have a lot of pet peeves and random things I should probably let you know… lemme see.

  • I hate it when I have to share a bathroom: Yes, I understand that this is a completely selfish thing to say, but I can’t stand sharing toilets. Can you imagine how hard it must be for me when I’m on vacation and there’s only one bathroom to share? Luckily, I have my own bathroom at home (it’s adjoined to my room) and I am forever grateful for it. I don’t know why, and I know I will have problems in the future when I stay in dorms and share rooms with roomates, or (gasp) have communal bathrooms, but for now I am perfectly content. I shall have to deal with all of that in the future and I shall come armed with anti-bacterial wipes. D:
  • I hate it when people do Indian accents: You’ve heard it. It’s the mocking Indian accent that Russel Peters always talks in when he’s imitating his dad. While I admit, it is extremely hilarious, I don’t appreciate people from countries other than India doing it. But the weird thing is, I, myself, can do the Indian accent. YOU can do the mocking Indian accent too… if you’re Indian that is. See, I have this double standard thing…. don’t mock the Indian accent unless you’re Indian. Indians can make fun of Indians, but YOU, oh-person-from-another-country, CANNOT. It bugs me a lot. For example, I remember this one incident; I was talking to my friend (who was from Serbia) and she cracked a joke which I didn’t immediately get, so I said, “Vatt?” in a pseudo-Indian accent. She picks up on it too, and starts talking to me like that, and I suddenly freeze. I glare at her, like she has insulted all the Indians around the world, and say to her, in a deathly quiet voice, “Excuse me. What the hell do you think you’re doing?”. She stops, and says, “What?”, very confused. I shoot her death glares and say, “Do. Not. Mock. Indians.” She never did that accent again.
  • I despise it when I have to share my laptop: Okay, this is another very selfish one, but I really cannot help it. See, my laptop is a ruby red Sony Vaio, and it was a present from my parents (thank you so much!) and it has this sheeny-shiny surface to it. And fingerprints and other random smudges show up super easily, and I’m very careful when I use it. I don’t eat food on it, and if I have touched anything that will leave a mark, I go wash my hands. Now, I can’t trust anyone else with my laptop to be so OCD about such things, so I get really cheesed when people use it, and that too, without asking. So I’m constantly cleaning my laptop’s surface with pieces of soft cloth and computer monitor spray. Yes okay, I am a little be OCD, but isn’t everyone? 🙂
  • I don’t like curse words: This is a really weird one. See, there was this one time, way back when I was ten years of age when my mom caught me swearing. This was when I was in year 7 and it was cool to swear in every sentence. My friends were doing it, so I was doing it. Well, my mom read this email I’d written to a friend and called me over. I went up to her, not knowing what this was about, and she pointed at the screen and asked me, “Do you swear?” I was so shocked, I couldn’t say anything. She didn’t speak to me for an entire day until I owned up to it, and to this day, I don’t swear if I can help it. Instead, I use words such as, “Fudge!” or “Shizzle” to convey my irritation, and though people raise eyebrows, they let it go. And that is how I become the cool Indian chick who uses funny words as substitution for swearing. XD
  • I can’t lie: This is very annoying sometimes. I just cannot lie. Sometimes, I feel like Pinocchio, because people can immediately tell when I’m lying. I have all the tell-tale signs; touching my nose constantly, shifty eyes, a sudden raise in pulse, clammy hands and the inability to keep still. I especially can’t lie to my parents. I seem to have this huge internal moral compass thing going on inside me, which always forces me to tell the truth. That’s why I get very upset when people accuse me of lying. D:
  • I despise lizards: Unfortunately, living in a hot tropical country like Singapore, lizards can be found in extreme abundance. We constantly have to keep chasing them away from the house. Come to think of it, there’s a permanent one that resides under the refridgerator in the kitchen. I don’t know how big it is, but its colour keeps changing. One day it’s a pale cream, but by night it’s a mutant ninja brown. Gross. But yeah, so whenever I go to the kitchen, I make sure to stomp in really loudly, so it knows that I’m coming. Once I was going to my bathroom and I stepped on a baby one, and, I kid you not, I screamed for about five minutes. And the worse thing, my parents were out at a party, so the main lizard-shooer of the family, a.k.a my dad was unavailable. Hence, I was left alone to deal with this dead baby lizard I’d squished with my foot. I remember that night, I frantically scrubbed at my feet for half an hour straight, took a shower for extra measure, and kept breaking out into involuntary shudders. Urgh, even thinking about it makes me grimace. And the dead baby lizard? Well, I covered it up with a piece of tissue (dropped from a great height) and waited for my parents to come home. My parents, the social butterflies that they are, arrived at 2am, after which my dad proceeded to disinfect my entire bathroom floor and get rid of the dead, overturned lizard. Urgh.

Well, I guess that’s pretty much it. There are lot more things to be written, but that can wait for another day. 🙂 Good night, I’m off to bed at precisely, 1:13am. Uh-oh. Another lie-in tomorrow, I suppose, unless those drilling people start again, gahh.

xx

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