This is the tale of my Christmas woes... When you're doing well on your weight loss journey... then Christmas happened, and there was food... so you eat... because you're happy... and you realize you have no self-control... and you have no time for your workout sessions because everyone's home and you want to spend time with them... and you talk a lot... and eat a lot because someone is always cooking something... and you gain back some of the weight you had lost... and you feel dejected... while realizing, you may be the oldest in the family, but act like the youngest... Oh.... Oh... then you ramble on about those old fairytales...
I went from family love... to Christmas fun and weight gain... to ranting about fairytales... and why I'm no princess... and don't want to be a princess... Maybe my weirdness is due to an enchantment, spell, curse or something? Cause being me, sure ain't normal...
I was doing well on my weight loss journey.
Lost about 8 to 10kg...
Which may not seem much, especially when compared to the amount I have left to lose, like at this rate, I would probably reach my ideal weight, when I'm 90? Or dead... whichever comes first... But it still gives me a sense of pride... Losing even that little weight.
But then Christmas came...
Everyone was home... We talked.... We sang...
Ok. Correction. My family and friends sang.
I opened my mouth and closed it... and murmured words...
Maybe even wiggled a shoulder... or two...
It was like soft singing... you know the kind of sound waves that only dogs can hear.
Probably why the cats and dogs around my neighborhood have been sending me death threats...
and cease and desist notices.
Fineeeee... I will cease my singing and dancing...
Tough crowd of cats and dogs I have here in my neighborhood.
The moment I start my singing, they're like,
I get it. I get it. I suck at singing, you bunch of Simon Cowell wannabes.
So I didn't sing... even though I love Christmas carols...
Cause I'm the type of person who is willing to make sacrifices for the stray animals in her neighborhood... I'm understanding like that.
Gee, thanks Simon...
Siding with them stray cats and dogs in my neighborhood, eh... Guess I'm not getting that ticket to Hollywood? Fine! Keep your ticket... and your Hollywood...
So my family sang. I sang in my heart. And maybe danced a little.
I hope one day people will write poetry about me... and the sacrifice I made singing silently so that the people and animals around my vicinity can be protected from the "hair-curling, blood-curdling, intestine-aggravating" sound my singing makes.
A plaque would be nice too... to show their appreciation for my sacrifice.
Or maybe some paintings on a cave wall...
Gee really Hugh Jackman... Siding with them strays too, huh?
Oh man... Nobody likes me.
Wait... Is it because I'm a little weird?
Fine. Back to my rambling tale of my weight loss struggle and lack of willpower.
Other than singing and putting suicidal tendencies in the neighborhood strays, and maybe even my family and friends... I also ate... A LOT...
Since our state borders were finally open after being closed for months... my siblings could finally come home for a visit...
So of course my mom was happy... not only because her two favorite kids were visiting (and she can recover from being stuck in quarantine with me... the grumpy, annoying, whiny one of her trio of kids... who thinks a grunt qualifies as an answer)... but because her youngest brother and his family were visiting too.
What does my mother do when she's happy? She cooks.
My mom is an over-achiever in almost everything, but when it comes to cooking, even Gordon Ramsay will weep... and not only because the food my mom cooks is 'help-me-I-need-water-I'm-going-to-die' spicy...
My mom's an amazing cook... even without the rat helping her.
And when I say "rat"... I meant me...
Not an actual rat...
Although "helping with the cooking" is a bit of a stretch... Like is “tasting” considered 'helping with the cooking'?
So anyway... The "rat" is just me... not an actual rat... I'm not sure how they do it in other places... but in my home, we don't allow rodents to help with the cooking... They're usually killed.
Yeahhhh... Sorry... I really don't mean to discriminate against rodents and you have a right to follow your culinary dreams... but... I can't eat a rat-cooked-meal...
Usually when my mom cooks, we're all already standing there in the kitchen, with our plates, ready to eat... even before she's done...
Cause nothing says torture than the delightful smell of my mom's cooking, that fills the entire neighborhood, while we impatiently wait for the cooking to be done.
Even our neighbors wait with their plates outside our gates.
And once we taste her food, we're all like, Gordon Ramsay who....
Anyway, her loved ones were home, so my mom cooked... a lot... It was like Hell's Kitchen with trays after trays of food coming out...
Actually I should say, "Heaven's Kitchen" cause my mom's cooking is heavenly... Get it?? Heaven's kitchen... Heavenly food.
Man... I'm not winning any points with him, am I?
There goes my chances of getting on MasterChef?
Who am I kidding... The only MasterChef show I can get on is the one where I cook for dogs... And even then, I would lose... cause the dogs will spit out the food I've cooked...
They'll take the food in their tiny dog hands (or is it legs cause all 4 of them are on the floor so it's legs, right?) and throw them at me.
Hey it's my Blog... I'll call them "tiny dog hands" if I want.
Sorry... Please ignore me.. I'm in the cheesy, corny lines mode right now...
Man... The Office US Version theme music started to suddenly play in my head... So freaky.
I once tried to feed a stray dog some leftovers of the food I had cooked, and it glared at me with angry dog eyes, while slowly growling, and barked, "are you trying to kill me, woman" and turned its back on me.
Wait... Did that happen in a dream???
Probably.
I ain't going near a dog... I don't like furry things... and what if they bite? Kids hate me. Pretty sure dogs hate me too.
So of course, when you're back home, you go hunting for that food... And my siblings did that too... Buying all the food that they've missed... that they could only get when they're back home.
And with the house full of people, someone was always cooking something. Trying out new recipes.
So with my mom cooking, my family members trying out new dessert recipes, and buying all their hometown favorites... it was a lot of food.
It was like my mouth had constant workouts.... from the talking and the eating...
Anyway, Christmas is now over... Everyone went back home but my sister and teenage cousin decided to stay on as they have some days off from work and school.
My sister was also under the "work from home" directive from her company, so she could stay with us, while she worked.
So now I can't do 'eating light' for dinner anymore... which I used to do to lose weight.
My sister and cousin expect me to eat rice and pizza... and other food that screams at me, “I'm gonna make you fat... A la la la la long long li long long long”...
I've started eating oatmeal for lunch to make up for the meal I'm about to have at night.
Then they don't let me do my workout when I come home from work, with my sister sending my cousin to get me off the bike.
I plead to do my workout for a short while, and my sister says, “NO! Go and bathe now”.
Gawd.. Who knew my sister could be so bossy.
I know my two younger siblings are married and all, but I'm the oldest in the family... Aren't they supposed to, like, worship the ground I walk on or something.
Throw rose petals for me to walk on. Kiss my hand as they serve me food and drinks. Like you see in all the Tamil movies.
Bow when I walk into the room...
Or curtsy... Yeah... I wouldn't mind a curtsy... People curtsying when I walk by as I blow air kisses to them...
Man... I would so rock being a princess...
Yeahhhh... Who am I kidding...
Me, the socially awkward person, who hates places with crowds of people... and who thinks of make-up stuff as the stuff of nightmares.
I would so NOT want to be a princess... Or a duchess... even a countess... Anything that would have people looking at me...
I'm definitely no princess anyway... I once had a peg inside my t-shirt.... Slept with it... I went the whole night with it.... And never realized... And got a shock when I woke up the next morning and the peg fell out...
You think I'm weird, don't you, Tyler Hoechlin gif?
Me becoming Anna when I see a Tyler Hoechlin gif...
Yeah... I'm like Anna... Socially awkward... Loves chocolate...
But not enough like Anna to go up to an unknown guy and tell him, “Can I say something crazy... I just met you... but here's my number, call me maybe... Can I say something crazier... yes I will marry you”...
Why? Cause love is an open door???
Like what does that even mean... why are the doors open... what door... is it like an innuendo thing??? But then again, it's a movie for kids... And what are you trying to teach kids anyway... Just marry the first guy you meet... because he's handsome... and you both like sandwiches...
Anna, I like you but maybe know a guy first... before accepting his proposal of marriage... like he could be a douche... a serial killer... the villain of the story...
So anyway... Me... awkward like Anna... But definitely not a princess...
Princesses can't sleep with a pea under their bed ...
I can sleep with a peg under my shirt...
Like I've sat on phones... not realizing I was sitting on it... Not even feeling the hard phone... and then wondered why my thighs were vibrating... Like do I have nerves in my thighs at all? How can I have no sensation in my thighs?
Don't laugh, Tyler... My thighs have feelings... Like not feelings enough to feel a vibrating phone... but feelings enough to get hurt when you laugh at it...
Like it sometimes cries... I've heard it... maybe cause they're big and bulky, and rub together when I walk... but the sound it makes is just like the sound of tears...
So anyway.... Where was I??? Oh princess.... Yeah definitely not one... Don't want to be one either...
Heck. I would LOCK MYSELF in a tower... and cut my hair short so no guy could climb it.
Like what's up with that. You see some hair hanging out of some tower... and you just climb it... Where's your manners?
And wouldn't that hurt?
Even the act of straightening my hair hurts because of all that hair pulling thing they do with that hair straightener thing... Imagine having someone hanging on to your hair and pulling on it... climbing it...
Gawd all the freaky stuff that goes on in the fairytale universe...
Like women kissing frogs...What makes a person see a frog and decide to kiss it? Just because it promised to turn into a prince?
Like I don't care how desperate you are... vet the frog first...
That's the problem with people... Believing every charmer...
People eating breadcrumbs off paths...
Like why would you eat something that's on the ground... or off a house...
What would make you just go up to someone's house and start peeling things off and eating it...
Like I don't care how hungry you are, you just don't eat someone's house...
Didn't their parents teach them that... My parents did; go to someone's house... make sure you behave... don't touch their things... don't eat their house.
Ok I get it... Maybe you're really hungry... and I know how it is when you're really hungry... as I was when I was doing my degree... and trying to find ways to stretch my money... and you feel you can eat anything... but berries would be a much better option than someone's house... It's also healthier... and much safer...
Cause you see what happens. You eat someone's house, they eat you.
And all that men kissing that poor sleeping woman. The fairytale's version of a kissing booth eh?
But worse... because...
1) No Noah Flynn
2) She's unconscious... Isn't that like an invasion of her privacy??? She didn't say she wanted some random, unknown men kissing her.
No! It's gross! Breath-taking is eating hot pizza, fresh from the oven.
I don't get the concept of a kissing booth... Like ewww.. the amount of lips that have kissed the person... Is it fun to have strange people kissing you... or to go kiss a random stranger just because he or she looks good... Do the person in the booth enjoy have various people come up and kiss them...
And what about you kissing that person in that kissing booth... Are you sure his lips are safe? And also how sure are you that the person has sanitized their lips from the previous person before they kiss the new person... so you could be ultimately kissing the other person too from the residue of the previous person's lips on this person...
Whattt nooo... I'm just analyzing the situation.... Sure people may go, what is wrong with you Crys... It's just a kiss... Hey... My lips are sacred!
Yeah Yeah fine... I'm weird... But hopefully in a cute way??? But probably not...
So the thought of just any one person kissing me is enough for me to gag and reach for my toothbrush... Imagine all that people kissing poor sleeping beauty... Man, the things fairytale women have to endure.
And what if Sleeping Beauty didn't like the guy. Maybe she didn't want to be
with him. Maybe he's a bad kisser. OR a douche.. OR she wants to further
her studies. Or pursue her dreams of becoming... I don't know... A dentist perhaps... or a Sheriff...
I tell you. Freaky stuff. And way too much obsession about kissing.
I already told my family, if I were to fall into a deep sleep, let me sleep.
Don't let some unknown guy kiss me. It's unhygienic. Who knows where his mouth has been.
So does my family think I'm weird? Not at all. They're used to the smart things I say.
Nobody thinks I'm smart?
I thought everyone was enjoying my long, rambling tale and all the heart-stirring, moving stuff I was saying.
Gee... Reminding me of all the times I wrote long text messages to my mom, thanking her for the lunch she cooked for me, about how tasty her food was, how much I love her, she's a wonderful mother, yadda yadda yadda.
And she will text back her reply, "ok".
Man... I just thought of something.
I look like a hag who rolled out of Dungeons & Dragons, no one would want to kiss me anyway... even if they were paid a million galleons.... or whatever currency fairytale people use...
Hey, I don't know what currency fairytale people use. I'm not an accountant.
Yup... They're charming... not desperate...
They wouldn't want to kiss me...
Look, I'm perfectly ok about no one wanting to kiss me...
I don't want to kiss anybody either.
I want a hot kiss, I can go kiss myself.
Happy to see things changing, though, in the fairytale world.
They're now baddass badass young women who can do their own fighting.
*P.S. I just realized I made the mistake of writing two 'd's for the word, 'badass'. Thank goodness for spell-check, right?
I wonder what people used to do before spell-checks were invented...
"We used the dictionary", says my mom when I asked her....
"You mean those big heavy books you have in our bookcase... that I think you should throw away... cause we have phones and the Internet now", says I...
My mom looked at me like she wished she could throw those dictionaries at me...
Anyway, the women in fairytales nowadays are so badass, they rock Double Ds.... Ok. That sounded way better in my head than writing it here.
They're no longer just stuck in their miserable world, waiting for some wand-twirling lady and man with glass slippers to take them away from their miserable work situation.
They also don't wear glass slippers... I'm definitely not wearing glass slippers...
I've trouble wearing even normal shoes with heels.
Like I can't walk on heels.
I stumble.
I fall.
It's embarrassing.
People ask me, "are you five, can't you walk."
So I don't wear heels. So imagine glass slippers.... I would have bleeding feet... all the time...
These new fairytale women, they don't like their life, they tell their stepsisters to shove it, and start their own domestic cleaning and housekeeping company.
Who needs a knight in shining armor to rescue them when they can do their own rescuing.
That was a fairytale story with a kickass princess, who didn't need Prince Charming to fight her battles for her.
Which also had Kim Rossi Stuart, and his long, curly locks and beautiful eyes, who filled my teenage years with many happy memories.
Gee... When you realize you have the same hairstyle of your once-upon-a-time, in a land time far, far away, teenage dream guy.
I wonder how it would feel to hug a guy in armor... Doesn't seem so fun...
Like, wouldn't it sting?
Or give your skin armor burn?
Wait... Nobody enjoyed what I was writing?
Man... I thought I could write at least one blog post without mentioning Tyler Hoechlin.
Now... Where was I?
Sorry... Tyler Hoechlin makes me forget things... like my age... and my sanity...
Also, Fairytales make me emotional...
Anyway... As the oldest sibling in the family, I thought I would be revered by my younger siblings. Be their role model, the older sister they look up to and want to emulate.
Listen to whatever I say. Hang on every word.... and say, “Yes, Oh Wise One. You are always right. And so smart. And Beautiful. You're the best! I bow to your greatness”.
Or calling me "Your Grace" or "My Lady"... I can't decide which one is better, Your Grace or My Lady...
What!!! So ok... maybe I like to read a lot of Regency novels by Georgette Heyer.
So I guess that's not happening?
Yeahhh... didn't think so....
Doesn't really help that I act, behave and think like a kid most of the time and they're the voice of reason in my family, even if they're younger than me.
I guess sending messages after messages about your celebrity crush in your family group chat like a teenage kid, which come to think of it, even my teenage cousin doesn't do in our chat group about her celebrity crush, doesn't really increase your value, does it?
Oh gosh, I complained so much about all those fairytales, when I'm not much of an inspiration or a go-getter myself.
Sorry fairtytale characters, I should have been more understanding of your plight.
So I thought to myself, my sister is not here, I can now exercise without fear, no one is going to stop me.
10 or 15 minutes later, I hear a knock on my door, and my young cousin comes and says, "It's already late. You've been exercising so long. Time to stop".
I'm like, "it has only been 10 minutes"... and she starts going on about how it's late.. and I should be tired after work... and I haven't eaten... it's not good for your heart... etc etc etc... and gets me off the bike...
My sister used orders, my cousin uses cajoling... whatever she used... it worked...
Ok.... Maybe she enticed me with some food.... Food usually works... Especially if it's food my mom cooked...
I guess I can understand their feelings on this... They're just worried for me...
That I would get hurt, that my heart will be affected or I might pull a muscle, or strain myself with the constant workouts... That I may be overdoing it...
I can't stop my workouts but I do get my family's worry...
Cause when I read about how Tyler Hoechlin pushes himself to do his workout after he finishes filming, even when he's tired... I worry for him.... Worry his health will be affected...
And he's just a guy I stan... don't know the real him... or how he's really like... or if I would continue to stan him if I knew the real him...
Yet I worry... Like I would worry for my family... and my close friends... Like how my family worries for me... All I know is that it comes from a place of love... It's nice to have people care enough about you... to worry...
Anyway. It's now February. Everyone has gone back home. It's now just my mom and I.
My goal is to lose back all the weight I had put on during the Christmas holidays.
Maybe before Valentine's Day?
So I could eat the chocolates I'm gonna get.
Who am I kidding.
Nobody's buying me chocolates for Valentine's Day.
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