Wednesday, November 24, 2004
And you thought there was no such thing as initiation
My mother's trying to make a woman of me. Not in the sick way you're imagining, sick sicko. In the "get back in the kitchen" sense, since I might be moving to bloody Perth or Newcastle.Saturday: makeup lessons. It goes: moisturiser, foundation, blush, eye shadow, brow darkener, eye lash crimping, mascara, lip liner, lipstick. Or something like that, I'll probably end up putting eye shadow on my cheekbones and mascara on my lips. Sunday: she made me wax my moustache (it's SO barely there, thankyou hairless Asian forefathers) and eyebrows which has left me leper-like AGAIN. Twice waxed, thrice shy. Never. Again. Monday: she taught me how to CROCHET. She told me she learnt how to crochet in primary school, in "Nu Cong" class - that translates literally as "Women's Work"! She lamented how we don't get taught any of that stuff nowadays- I retorted that our generation is trained to be high flying professional women who can PAY other people to crochet for them. Or marry SNAGgy men who can knit, sew, and cook (and cry) (and crochet). I think I prefer our way.
# posted at 1:29 am
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