Questa è Enida

I am guilty as charged by Cik Nan. In fact, I had gotten no sympathy from hubby deary when I mengadu that Cik Nan called me puntilanak, kurang hajor, sial, celaka, sondal, pompuan jalang, pompuan tak guna and all the terms I don’t even dare use on World’s Champion Janda Malas of Royal Oak.

I didn’t call my sahabat qoribun. She called me. And that was today, thirteen days after landing dengan selamatnya at KUL airport. I have not been good at keeping friends updated with my news. To not call or email my own qoribun is despicable. I blamed it on the stress of looking for a home and a decent vehicle back here in Kuala Lumpur, though. I just re-realized that my berangan taik kucing has turned into berangan boiled-eggs-tootoot or section-seventeen-Shah Alam-medan-on-a-hot-sunny-day kinda smell. Your nose won’t look for the source.

Reality is I am a far cry from a jutawati, and or even the thoughts of being one. With close to a RM1 plus the six zeros, I can only afford a semi-D house in Beverly Heights, Ukay. I thought I could build a mansion. Well, I suppose I could…if I had a land in Ulu Banat and if I had two years to wait. But I so lah don’t. Plus, the self-chosen pain is: we sengaja cari rumah for investment since konon to avoid renting. At the end of our three or four years here, the house will be ours.

Wishful thinking.

Anyway, I am dengan selamatnya in KUL…pregnant and all.