And when I say endure, I mean endure. Try staying in an enclosed area for eight hours with people warbling or trying their darnest to warble on microphones in a karaoke session. Not a pleasant experience.

At least the place was an executive flat which meant that there was an upstairs and a downstairs area. The brat and I could at least take refuge upstairs... along with the other refugees:)

If we were at my maternal gran's place, there would have been no sanctuary to be found.

To make matters worse, my aunt's place is a biohazard... for me anyway. When I was younger, I wished that my home would look like the showpiece that is my aunt's home; the knick-knacks, carpeting, framed photographs etc compared to my home with its mess. My cousin's room with the shelves full of stuffed toys all nicely girly and frilly in comparison to my own rather spartan room.

Not that I am complaining, I had a computer and I love my books. I can live without pink and white frills. Not that I am whinging now. I suppose when one grows older one realises that appearances matter but you have to look beneath the surface. I love my home. My mom's a rather care-less housekeeper whose first priority is to mother us, not possessions. My mom is the active go-getter, my aunt is the girly frilly old fashioned gidget of the 1950s.

In any case, back to the biohazards of living in a house full of carpet and kitschy decorations. Dust and mites. Bloody allergens. I was dying in there. I fell asleep on my cousin's bed (remember that it was dull and I'm sick) and I was a goner.

My eyes swelled and my nose ran. My face went all puffy like a blowfish that has been dipped in boiling water. And since it is the first allergy attack I had since I came back, I didn't have my histamines with me.

Coupled with screeching voices and mahjong tiles clacking, plus the excessive but tedious progression of "your papa's mother's cousins and their kids" or something along those lines... you get the idea.

Wow... I get to do all that again when the Lunar New Year lumbers by. Oh and that isn't so bad... my dad hates gatherings like that too so we usually stay the obligatory two hours and then we LEAVE. Yay... except for my Gran's birthday. And even then I can LEAVE, because I'm above 18 and I can go off gallivanting as long as I return for the cake cutting.

Oh did I mention that my cousin's Chinese wedding is up in about two weeks time? Yay... I get to do yesterday all over again. Nah... it should be more interesting that day as I get to extort money and other various things from the bridegroom.

*snicker*