My *Happy Happy Chinese New Year

I CAME BACK ALIVE!!! Holy cow, I have so much shit to share. Good shit and bad shit. But first of all, thank you for all the comments to my previous post, especially my dear concerned friend who is lucky enough not to marry an Asian MCP. Sim, 800km may be exaggerating, and OK OK, I lied. BUT, after what you're about read, the entire journey will seem like it's 800km. I. KID. YOU. NOT.

And GONG XI GONG XI GONG XI NI AH means... if directly translated, it means congratulations, congratulations, congratulations to you AH. It's simple actually, it just means Happy New Year.

My fantastic journey to Seremban from Johor Bahru started on Friday the 16th. I drove all the way, which indeed, was less tiring and less nauseating compared to the backseater. When we started our ride, our little precious monkey already had his quality nap, so you can imagine the energy he had in the car for the first 1.5 hour. Man, I was laughin'. And it was a good laugh...in my heart. Hehehe, so evil hor. As I occasionally take glimpse through the mirror at the activities behind me, I cannot help but gloat. It was exactly what I used to experience when he drove and I took the backseat. Entertaining the little one, constantly shifting his position ( I hate the slippery leather seats and noise it makes when you move about ), asking the little one to sleep, making milk, giving him water and snacks and the whole caboodle. Through the eyes of the driver, it didn't look hard at all. Midway through the journey, he said (pathetically) "Gosh, why does it seem so long. Aren't we there yet?"

I felt like I won a million dollars.

It's called the backseat syndrome, time seems to be longer, I said with a smirk.

We arrived safely in Seremban in time to chill before the reunion dinner. This year though, it wouldn't be considered one because according to tradition, when a family member pass away, we mourn and do not celebrate the Chinese New Year. We do not visit other folks and do not give out red packets. Of course, many Chinese people nowadays tend to bend the rules.

Saturday was spent in the car, and I mean it. We started our journey to Ipoh at 2.30pm and arrived at our relatives' house at 1am, the next morning. We could've reached Thailand. I could've had a great time shopping for cheap Vision cookwares and wood-carved figurines of a man and a woman doing the nasty.

We stopped only twice, for input and output. Extra inputs for The Men since they are fans of carcinogens in the form of ciggies. Quite impressive eh. A month ago, when the hubbie told me that we're going to Ipoh this CNY, I gave him an immediate 'No' and I told him why. And we got into this big fight because he feels I don't like to 'follow' his side of the family. He was torn between making me happy and making his father happy. I'm telling you, this is a classic modern-meets-traditional problem. I gave him the logic, but all he wished was to do it just this once to make his father happy and proud. I can understand why. But seriously, after the entire stay, although there were some family-bonding-fellowship thingy, I could clearly see why I was there. It's all a show. Who's there and who's not.

We arrived glassy-eyed and were greeted warmly nonetheless. The poor little boy was already fast asleep, and couldn't care less to explore the new big house, which was perfect for paying hide and seek.

I brought my camera of course but I couldn't even bother. Sorry folks, no pictures of the delicious home-cooked food. Yep, the food was worth it. Funny thing is, I did mention that Ipoh is famous for its food. But we never stepped out of the house, only once for dim sum, which was so-so only. The days were spent helping out in the cooking, minding the little one, and catching up with the family members.

Hmm... I think I'm going to get sick. I'll stop here for now.