Me, my mum and curry

Was in unusual high spirits today, offered the family a taste of my curry chicken and what do you know, they liked it! My mum couldnt leave me alone in her dear kitchen, she thinks i'm invading her territory. She was quite a holy terror i must say, you should hear her - "Ginger in the curry?! Are you sure that's in the recipe?!" or "You are using way too much garlic, don't waste my precious garlic!" Okay, i added that bit, she didn't exactly say "my precious garlic". I had to hustle her out of the kitchen before i could really get anything done. It was really nice to hear her say that it wasnt that nasty tasting like she had expected, and i guess all that trouble was worth it when i actually saw her going for a second helping.

It is not very often that my mum puts me in her good books, most of the time we just stepped on each other's toes and drive one another up the wall. Its not that i derive some kind of warped thrill making her see red, we just dont see eye to eye to a lot of things. There are times where we simply stopped talking for as long as we can stand it, with my younger sister taking the role of an arbitrator, hopelessly trying to talk some sense into us. The truth is, i really do love her dearly. There is nothing she could have done to make her a better mum, she is perfect just as she is. It is times like these that i really appreciate my elder sister, for being the perfect daughter that my mum always wanted. I guess one out of three isnt bad at all?

Went roller blading after dinner, its been a long while since i did any decent exercise. I could feel my body protesting as i pushed myself up the suicide slope (yeah right) with all my might, the adrenaline rush rolling down was refreshing. Its been a good week so far, i feel almost ready to face the world. But for now, its time to plop onto bed, sleep and perchance to dream. :)

Delicate

Delicate - Damien Rice

We might kiss when we are alone
When nobody's watching
I might take you home
We might make out when nobody's there
It's not that we're scared
It's just that it's delicate

So why do you fill my sorrow
With the words you've borrowed
From the only place you've known
And why do you sing Hallelujah
If it means nothing to you
Why do you sing with me at all?

We might live like never before
When there's nothing to give
Well how can we ask for more
We might make love in some sacred place
The look on your face is delicate

So why do you fill my sorrow
With the words you've borrowed
From the only place you've known
And why do you sing Hallelujah
If it means nothing to you
Why do you sing with me at all?

So why do you fill my sorrow
With the words you've borrowed
From the only place you've known
And why do you sing Hallelujah
If it means nothing to you
Why do you sing with me at all?


You said it wouldn't be a tired, old, cliche novel. Then how come it is?