To Ilikeloofahs Blog, www.blogger.com, The Internet.

Dear Blog,

It's been FOREVER.

What's new? Seeing anyone? Boss still an A-hole? Sister got married? Dog had puppies?

I'm writing to you from the same place I did last time: Jim's home in Connecticut. The last time I blogged was the day before I left for Malaysia. Today is the day after returning from my short vacation in Malaysia.

Much has changed in the Lim residence since I was home 1.5 years ago. Our study and the maid's room has been renovated and converted to a bedroom for the brother. 20-year old Tivo was replaced by a younger, sexier, wider, flatter model. The living room is much cozier than it's ever been. I only saw ONE cicak in our house during my entire stay; they used to be everywhere - hiding behind the water flask, lying in wait for the best time time to sneak a taste of any food left on the table, dashing across your feet as you walked by the refrigerator, falling from the ceiling or walls if startled badly, dropping on your bed... *Goosebumps* Jim calls them geckos and thinks they're adorable. Sure they got rid of bugs, but they also bugged the shit out of me. Which is why I can't believe I'm saying this: I kind of missed the little buggers. The background sounds of my house were incomplete without that familiar 'clack-clack-clack.' The lizards aka geckos united Sarah & I in our disgust of them. Speaking of which, isn't it curious how strong dislike for something or someone can be the glue that holds relationships together? Sharing contemptuous thoughts aka bitching equals bonding time. Humans are so judgmental, but judging becomes communication.

Anyhooow. The insecticide my mom bought didn't just drive all the lizards away from our house; my blogging bug must have been stupefied too. Coming back to NY cleared the air of pesticides, hence here I type :o)

The first few weeks I was home, the following question kept buzzing in my mind: Am I too old to kiss my dad? Feeling more like a grownup made me feel self-conscious. I used to plant little pecks on dad's cheek before hopping out of his car when he dropped me off at the mall. How many Malaysians kiss their parents? My high school chums used to wonder at how affectionate my family members are with one another. One particular conversation sticks out in mind; we were comparing how often we kissed their mommies. Me: Just about everyday. Them: Mother's Day & mother's birthday/Once a year/At the age of 6/Never. On Father's Day, I put aside my bashfulness and kissed the dad twice - once in the morn as he sat on the couch watching AFC, and once after buying the family dinner at Namaste ("Gourmet Indian cuisine"). Like the sweetheart he is, Jen chipped in for half the bill even though I told him to keep his money for manga.

You probably can't relate since you don't have blood kin, blog, but it's great when you get along with your parents and siblings. Sure we have our Kardashian family moments, but on the whole, we're pretty fucking awesome. Jim pointed out that we're a quirky lot. I couldn't agree more; we do have something special. A lot of it pertains to a similar sense of humor, a shared past from growing up and growing old together, as well as having inside jokes. Mom & dad are 'modern' and extremely lenient, a trait especially rare among Asian parents. I have the greatest gift which men prize above everything else, and have done so for centuries - freedom.

I'd almost forgotten how utterly amusing the other Lims can be.

While Sarah & I were discussing how fast food differs worldwide, I commented that McDs in Australia supposedly serves up one of the best burgers since they're renown for cattle.
Sarah: Yeah!!! They have Agnes beef.
Me: Eh? You mean Angus beef?
Sarah: No wonder it didn't sound right.
LMAO. AGNES!

Adik lelaki I is quite the Romeo now. He gives lady advice to his friends. We overheard him asking a friend over the phone, "How did it go with mermaid?" After he hung up, my mom, always the kaypohchee, asked if my brother's friend's crush was hot. Jen answered, "Just the top-half. That's why we call her mermaid." I thought it was damn funny lor.

Dad used to hold the trophy for 'Lamest Individual in the Family,' but mom has pried that trophy from his fingers.
Brother: I wanna watch G-L-E-E!
Mom: Cannot! School tomorrow. Can only have S-L-E-E-P.

Oh, but there's more.

In preparation for the volunteer program which I'll be doing in Ecuador, I had to get immunization for yellow fever, which is a big hassle in KL, because very few medical centers carry the vaccine. With regards to the matter, Mommy went:
"For the ang moh so easy. They have yellow fever by nature. Like Jim."
Jim kantoi!!!

I think mom likes to make light of trials or troublesome situations for the sake of cheering us up. Ever since getting Lasik, my eyes have been going through a slow recovery. She tried to dispel my concern by saying:
"But it's getting better and better. Soon you can see through walls."

One of my favorite things about being in KL is having late lunches with the daddy. We're comfortable in each others silence. Our extended family members get nervous around him, but I understand his demeanor. Whether through genetics or by means of observation and implementation, I've definitely inherited some of his traits. People tell me that I'm intimidating during my long periods of silence, but the truth is, silence doesn't necessarily mean I'm secretly stewing. Daddy's the same way. I think another perk of eating out with him is that he always takes me somewhere new.

A few weeks ago, he took me to an old coffee shop in KL for the best beef tripe noodles ever. Similar to Wantan mee, but beef tripe takes the place of dumplings. Pickled vegetables boost the taste of tripe gravy, and when eaten together with pickled green chilies, provide a fun combustion in your mouth. I never really pondered the fact that vegetables in Asia are so varied from those in the US. When Jim was visiting, he said that he'd never seen most of the greens that we ate at Chinese restaurants. My family's always been one for coffeeshops. I was the black sheep of the family in that sense. I would sulk that we weren't going for Western fare. Whenever available, I'd opt for kopitiam-style Western food (fries, bun, slice of ham or luncheon meat, baked beans, sunny side up egg, chicken chop, lamb chop) over oodles of noodles or dishes with rice. Maybe it's because I haven't had kopitiam in over a year, but I'm more appreciative of it this time round. I find everything about the typical kopitiam charming - linoleum green tiled floors, beer ads featuring skanky Chinese girls undressing you with their eyes, menu board with mistranslated Engrish, little pots of chili padi accompanying bottles of soy sauce on every table, cheap pink serviettes that are barely absorbent. Low overhead fans whirl slowly, distorting any light shed by LED lamps, creating an underwater ambiance.

The break in Malaysia served as a wonderful opportunity for me to get in touch with my artsy fartsy side. Heaven is the freedom to indulge in sewing projects, scrap-booking, and graphic design whenever I want. My hands grew familiar with the feel of measurement cups and whisks, and my fingers became deft when it came to the fastest way of sifting flour and 'folding in' the batter. Delicacies which left my kitchen included Blue Cheese-Rhubarb Muffins, 7-fruit Sangria, Hokey Pokey, 'Malaysianized' goodies such as Milo Cupcakes with Condensed Milk Frosting, and Kaya Cupcakes with Margarine Icing. On a literary aspect, I didn't read and write much. Am currently crawling through 'A Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man.' Profound, but draggy. The best of literature usually is. The staunch religious messages pounded into James Joyce's alter ego, Dedalus, struck me how religion was drawn up for man's own happiness.

Speaking of leisure activities, I think it's kind of cute how roles were reversed in the Lim residence as opposed to the Thomas/White/Smith household: Granny would look over my shoulder as I baked, and got the first taste of any goodies which emerged from the oven. Our living room scene was of me working at my needles, while she indulged in soap operas on the telly.

Well, blog... That's it for now. I could write a book, or even a trilogy about my trip back home, but I have errands to run. Don't fret; I won't be MIA for long. Take care! Until we meet again!



Hugs & kisses,
Sammy


P.S: Isn't it cool that I can call two places on the globe home? Upon touch-down at John F. Kennedy airport, my lips mouthed the words, "Home sweet home," before I knew I was doing it.