Be My Guests

After 12 hours of coma-like sleep, I restlessly drag my body out of bed, step into Chean's studio room, turn on my fave music to moderately high volume, then flip up my lappie and here I am, blogging with the rest of my energy. I don't know, I'm not severely ill actually, just feeling weak. Maybe it's because I give myself the luxury and permission for doing so.

I think I need a break, thoroughly. Every time when I stuck with this insipid idea, I let my soul flow freely until it reaches the secret place it belongs to, and very often, that secret place called H.O.M.E.

I'm not sure whether this is an official homesick attack, an illusion that blurs my vision and the rational side of me; or it is just an excuse of doing nothing except intoxicating your mind with the sweetest memories. I'm not sure, honestly. Maybe this is the only thing that I can do when I'm sick and away from home.

Mum, bro and sis, can I invite you all over for dinner tonight?





Just chill, k. I'm sick but not mentally ill yet, I know that is impossible. All these pictures were taken while Qian Qian, Chean's colleague and his wife came over for dinner two weeks ago; I arranged Baby's Breath and set the table myself.




I actually prepared four dishes and a soup but only snapped two of them, was too tired and too hungry.




Was cooking asam fish. Of course, my kitchen in Portland was a lot fancier but this one does the job too. Told you, it's just a very typical American single family home.

So Mum, my cooking skill has improved a lot, let me be your cook when I'm home, k? I'll make you a super delicious and unforgettable dinner with a hint of love, care and happiness. Love you all ❤❤



Officially homesick,
Bev