I have realised something rather disturbing since coming back home:

My mother cannot hold her liquor.

In fact, she tends to drink rather happily but is a rather difficult drunk to deal with. Sure, she doesn't go around smashing heads into walls (yet) and unless she's very obviously drunk to the point of slurring her words and swaying on her feet, she acts reasonably capable. But the fact remains that when the wine flows, so does her tongue, and all her pent-up issues as well. Honestly, I feel rather disconcerted and annoyed--yes, I admit to my annoyance--at her behavior. So what if there's something that displeases her about someone else? It's not within her right to shove and push and whine and snark until she gets her way like a spoiled child. And to do it loudly in a public setting is just pushing it. Really.

On the other hand, I seem to be surrounded by spoiled wanna-be children. Her manager is overly sensitive as are her staff, Uncle Z is in his own league and my relatives are equal parts whiny, oppressive or oppressed, bimbotic, rebellious or deranged. Yay.

Perhaps I'm deranged. The fact that I'm given to overly long-winded words seems to hint at future senility in my horizon. I shudder to picture such an occurrence.

Perhaps I'm being overly critical of things. Admittedly my mother has been flamboyant for years and rather dramatic all on her own (although she'll probably deny it should the subject be brought up).

Or perhaps the old saying rings true: Crazy people make sane people crazy. Insanity, like stupidity, is infectious and in like, so it seems is drama.

As it is, it's been a rather eventful day.

We went to the park in BU with the vet and found a congregation of dogs and dog lovers there (something utterly shocking to those who have grown up in a very oppressive Malaysia from young). We came back to drama in the business that had to be resolved, my dog sporting fleas after coming back from the groomers (who in turn went into a frenzy and insisted on spraying Koko with Frontline for us), and dinner with Uncle Z that sported a bipolar, high mother, but thankfully marvelous food.

Such a shame that things had to end on such a sour note. I know by now that I have no control over other people, merely myself. Admittedly, I tried to play intervention, but you know, there's only so much intervention a person can do before they snap and revert back to irritated indifference in a bid to keep away the ever lurking embarrassment. Such is my life.

I have people I love, but don't necessarily like. And honestly, there are times I feel like running far, far away.