My parents are discussing their holiday plans to Tasmania, checking flight tickets online and blocking off dates, while I am travel-starved and furious at my desk, redoing my Southeast Asian history notes and plotting to run away to Reykjavik.
This is how I had to find out: my sister casually mentioning this to me over a flimsy paper plate to hold my badly-wrapped popiah; me in initial disbelief and reaching for a slice of watermelon; both of us beneath a cloud of gloom feeling strangely betrayed.
Coming after my daydreaming of vacations from the seemingly distant past, the finality of my non-participation in the happy icy mountain fun that is to come for my parents in December is the precursor to my eventual self destruction. Coupled with forgetting our initial plans to watch the fireworks on National Day, I feel as if the roles are being subverted between the self-alienating teenager and the long-suffering parents.
This is a horrible way to exacerbate the nightmare that is 2009.
But putting my angst and indignation aside for a while, I woke up yesterday to news that Elizabeth's going to APA = going to Hong Kong = going to have an infinitely more gratifying time! (After replying to her sms I fell asleep, turned over, and the phone flew out of my bed, landing underneath where mutant dustbunnies reside.)
The night before, my family went out to watch Up. I've never felt like wailing while watching a movie before.
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