ramblings, basically.

I know I blog often. I'm having a week's break remember?

Nah who am I kidding. Break or not, I still blog often.

Anyhow..

snobby little junkbucket says:
happy birthday baby brother!
QG - Dunzo says:
yay
snobby little junkbucket says:
how old do you turn? 10?
QG - Dunzo says:
10000
snobby little junkbucket says:
awww such a cutie

Let's just say he looks too mature, and is way too old for his soul.

Nonetheless, since he turns 22 today, I'll do a nice treat for him. I'll tell the whole world how great a brother he is, despite the annoying imitation of my laughter every single time he catches me on the phone, or like how he'd diss me when I play the guitar. Or when he tells me I'm fat when he doesn't wanna share his food with me, and tells me I'm skinny when he wants me to finish up his yucky food. Or when he tries to boast about how great looking he is, and how he is so Brad Pitt, hoping I would fall for that. Or when he acts super childish, and successfully annoys the crap out of me.

Hrmmm.

Oh yeah I was saying how great a brother he is. Even though we're 6 years apart...No scratch that. I think it's because we're 6 years apart, we're that close. Otherwise there'd just be far too many conflicts. Internal decay *guffaws* Sorry, just thought of that.

Since young, I guess even when my granny insists on keeping all benefits for him, he always doted on me. He'd always ensure that the baby sister-who-looked-like-a-baby-brother had what she needed first. He would take care of me, maybe because my parents force him to, that I wouldn't know for sure, since I wasn't able to register words in my head then. There were many photographs we kept of the old times, when I was this little one, and he'd be carrying me, or holding me. Several pictures even, we had same poses, and I would look up to him like I wanted to be just like him so very much.

Because we don't talk to our parents as much as normal kids do, I guess that's why we talk to each other a lot. About events. About thoughts, even especially silly ones. About ambitions, about destinations we want to go to, about difficulties. No wait, difficulties would mainly be me whining, and he'd tell me how lousy I am, but never mind that.

All my life I grew up dependent on him, really. Whenever we wanted to make deliveries, formal phone calls, orders, etc, I would ask him to do it. Help me to do this. Help me to answer that. Help, help, help. And he would, with much reluctance each time, but he would still do them anyway. Until he found out I'm heading for an interactive job in future, then he had the way of persuading me to make my own phone calls. I then learnt how to deal with all that professionally. :p Though it has to be said, up till now, I still push a lot of phone calls to him. :)

And being the politically apathetic idiot I am, I rely on him as my number one source for many things. For news, for reasons to events happening around the world. He always seemed to know the answers to them. He always manages to give me the most complete and easy to understand explanations. He then realised I was getting lazy. I'd ask him for words I didn't understand and he hated being my dictionary. :p So he made me check up on everything myself. Snort.

The dependence doesn't end there. When he started rollerblading, he fell in love with it and made me rollerblade. From the bike shop to the road to the bridge, he was literally dragging me around. I clung onto him with all my might, and falling on my ass whenever I knew I would fall, but I decided I might as well fall first. He would be screaming at me to get up, to try again. When I did get the hang of it, I still refused to let him go, because he was my pillar of support! And finally I started dragging him down, causing him to fall whenever I fell. :) Smart me.

Oh, he also made me pick up tennis when he had this craze for tennis. I hated it because I never knew how to smash the ball back at him. It always went soaring into the sky before falling on the other side of the court. (It should always cross over just above the net, by the way.) And I would be extremely frustrated. He wasn't the best teacher either, honestly. But my perseverance level was kind of low. :p

Whenever we went out, I would grab his arm and he would hate it, shrugging it off whenever he could. When I tried to sleep on public transports, he would nudge me until I wake up. Or not give me a chance to sleep at all, for that matter. Whoops, I can't help it, I'm talking about the bad sides AGAIN.

Ummm, he's a great tutor. He's the best solution to my math problems. Except sometimes he can't solve them, he just pretends that he knew the answers but wanted me to figure them for myself. Umm.

And he's a great guy cos he saves Wonka chocolates for me every time. There. A brother I wouldn't trade for the world.

Happy Birthday, baby brother!

posted by sh @ 11:19 am