Listening to a mixtape my dad made me for my 19th birthday. Kinda wish I were still young, all these songs remind me of dancing around my loungeroom with some sort of air instrument in my pyjamas, or my parents getting drunk with their friends and Rachel and I sneaking into the kitchen to get masses of junkfood. And then them telling me I was made in Hong Kong like everything else in the world, and that I was an accident. Good times. And that time we went on a cruise and the singer guy kept hitting on my mother. Or listening to my dad play the piano, sitting in the stairwell of my KL home. Or back when I was small enough to hide behind the Christmas tree so I could eavesdrop on my parents. I was so sneakeh. I had a spy name, it was Nancy.

Also, I’m feeling the need to learn to cook.