UNGRATEFUL IDIOTIC DIVA

I broke a record yesterday.

I cried on my birthday.

You see, my ideal way of having a birthday celeb is for me to have a little time to reflect on how my year went (which I didn’t have the opportunity to with the current workload) and eat whatever I feel like eating and having drinks with friends and/or family. So far, my past birthday cravings include kek pisang, jantung pisang masak lemak, ikan sardin bakar, nasi lalapan, prawn dhal, etc.

I only have parties if I asked or plan for it myself. My parents organized this birthday party when I was 8. My brother and sister are still jealous about it until now, but I did not enjoy it that much because my parents were busy entertaining the guests. I was upset about it, and later on my mom asked me to help with the cleaning up and got told off because I didn’t want to. Nobody is supposed to do the clean up on their birthdays, right?

So there I was, nicely dressed for a dinner out and a friend picked me up from my place. We shared the same birthday so, we were planning to have a birthday dinner then other friends will join us after that to continue the “celebration”. Purr-fect.

On the way, one friend called and asked us to turn back. I felt something fishy already when I saw TC’s car passed by my house just after we left. He told me he’s looking for a colleague’s house. Anyway, since the driver is so baik hati to turn around, I said, “it’s better be good”, but still had my heart set on what I wanted to eat for dinner (I am superstitious when it comes to food, cravings and bad luck).

Just as I half expected, there were a lot of cars in front of my house. There were about 10 people and they were carrying food with silly smiles on their faces. And how did I react? By remaining firmly seated on the car seat with my seatbelt on. I told them I wanted to eat pizza. They said they’ve made some food and want to have the party in my house, to which I profoundly refused. I haven’t dusted my house since before Raya (thanks to all the post raya and weekend outings). I have 2 weeks’ worth of laundry which I just washed and currently hanging around my house, and I’ve more or less set up camp in front of my 42”, so I have my makeup kit, toner, lotions, blanket, scarves, sweaters, cushions and empty cups strewn around my living room. And yeah, I don’t do your-own-birthday-party-cleaning up. So, I asked them to have it in Miss E’s house instead.

I saw some disappointed looks on my friends’ faces. And at least 2 of them called me a ‘diva’. Honestly, I don’t handle surprises that well. When a guy I had a huge crush on asked me to be his girlfriend, I walked away from him and we didn’t speak until 2 days later. We were an item for the next 3.5 years (oops, that’s a different story). On the way to Miss E’s house, I was thinking about my reactions and the looks on my friends’ faces, and felt really bad. I was behaving like such an ungrateful idiotic diva.

Ungrateful idiotic diva. Ungrateful idiotic diva.

I didn’t enjoy much of the evening though I really like my birthday cake. I was thinking about how my friends must have viewed me because of this. And I was thinking about my superstitions, about not having what I wanted to eat and how I will have bad luck for the rest of the year until the curse is broken on my 28th birthday. I also thought that at my age, my mom already have 3 kids (even though I’ve had more fun than her). Then, I called my mom, and I cried. I also cried hard after I put down the phone. There I was, crying alone outside the house when all the other people were busily chattering and laughing or maybe talking about how ungrateful I was or maybe they just forgot why they were there at the first place.

Just when I’ve recollected my composure and went inside to ask them out for drinks, everybody was beginning to leave. Okla, I left also but then asked TC to go out for drinks. I’ve promised another friend who shared the same birthday as mine to meet him up, and TC owed me a deal to hang out with my metrosexual friends, so he followed suit. How I wish my other friends were there too. We left before 11pm sebab TC belum mandi.

I still woke up today feeling bad about being a diva though. The story will pass through generations, and I will remember it as the day I cried.

At least half of the bad feeling is gone after I put it in writing.

People might think I have weird antics.

I have a better word for it.

Idiosyncrasies.