Day 4 + Day 5

We now continue our programme of the evening:

Day 4 - the day of anticipation. I had discussed with my parents the best restaurants in Klang to bring Ms N. Went to watch Troy with mom in the afternoon coz dad's having dinner outside that nite and mom decided she don't want to join us "youngsters" for dinner for fear of not fitting in our conversation topics (I SWEAR she sensed something about this "guest"!). The show's not too bad, with credible performances from Eric Bana and Brad Pitt. However, my phone received a SMS from Ms N after the show, and my heart sank. Ms N felt ill while in Chinatown and almost fainted, so she's resting then and couldn't make it to dinner anymore. I was more worried than disappointed, but thankfully she's fine. She was very apologetic about how things turned out. SIGH... Imagine my sense of lost... Looked like it was not meant to be...

Day 5 - the day of my departure. Mom "forced" me to watch Ju-On with her in the morning. Jeepers Creepers! I didn't watch this in the cinema last time and boy, am I glad! The shock factor was still quite prominent on TV. Anyway, my parents sent me off at Klang KTM station. With warm hugs from both of them, I left them, again. It's always sad for me, and I always struggle to keep the tears in as the train pulls away. Haven't shed a tear since 1997. Always think that I should find a chance to do that again.

I SMS Ms N on the train. She felt better already. We promised each other we'll message each other when we're bored on our journey back to Singapore. I think I walked with a skip in my steps afterwards. :) The train trip was an agonizing 7-hr ride, with the most slap-worthy kids in my cabin. I tell you, I've yet to see mothers so weak at parenting. This kid was making high-pitch squeaks and annoyed the hell out of everyone. My neighbour stuffed her ears with headphones and blasted her MD player, while I purposedly cover my ears with my hands to show his mom my utter displeasure. She just kept going, "Diam! Diam! (Quiet! Quiet!)" and bitch-slapping the kid right in the face. Did he shut up? Surprise, surprise. The kid changed from high-pitch squeaking to high-pitched crying. I had it. I snapped. I grabbed my wallet and literally ran for my dear life to the canteen cabin. Sheesh...

11pm, home at last. Hoped I wouldn't have nightmares about screaming kids, but prayed I would dream of her.

(Note: That was 16/5. In retrospect, I dreamt of nothing that night. D'oh!)