overlapping jutting teeth, smile, say cheese

My very first attempt of patriotism came at RM2.50. Rather semangat was I to join the likes of the boys who will eventually switch to motorcycles in the future. Those who I wowed at for cycling around Kuala Lumpur in groups with the school standardised sized jalur gemilang flags trailing behind them, those who I later cursed at for beating the red light when it meant green to me. For none of my passenger seaters obliged to hold a flag up while I drove, I made do with those stick-on ones.

Now, for someone who has no sense of sensitivity for anything specifically Malaysian, save eateries, this is quite the rare achievement. However, I found that Sunshine is truly a Claudia's car through and through when she rejected the flag while on Jalan Yap Kwan Seng. I must admit that I screamed like a little baby's bottom for my window was open and bloody hell, that flag was persistent. Anonymous2 asked if I had replaced it. I think RM2.50 is money well enough to give back to Malaysia, don't you think?

princess sparkles

Sunshine is of royalty. She who gleams in the sun, speeding back and forth with her nose up in the clouds. Sunshine was the vehicle in which I had a fantastic two days with girlfriends. It's been quite a while since I've been in full content, but Friday seemed to fit the bill, with a small price of skipping a lecture to pay.

Off to Sunway Pyramid did we fly, to have the french toast that would get us by. I know moods that come in excess or in adequate amounts sprout my Doctor Seuss excerpts, and for that I apologise. Garfield, if you're reading this, you'll be happy to know that I think I have successfully kicked most of the speaking-in-third-person habit. Oh and if you really are reading this, know that I miss you.

Anyways, despite shopping with wallets that contained flies and RM40, we could not yield the magnetism to the shallow things in life; to the clothes, to the make up, I swoon. And we did the things that make me proud to be a girl. For it is us who can window shop for four hours and feel satisfied, or if not, pumped to go out once again to conquer. It is us who can make full use of testers. It is us who can then ignore the salespeople who are blatantly annoyed at the window shoppers; who are moralised by a touch-if-you-can-buy-theory. It is us who can then continue to test makeup products until no valid spot remains on our hands, and then our arms. It is us who can then leave without feelings of guilt, none in the least.

However, as Melody writes in her blog, guilt comes from purchase; but that's an entirely different story.