Initially we were busy (all day) on her birthday so we took her out for dinner the day before. I had planned on taking her to a Vietnamese restaurant and gave her a few options. She rejected them and said to just go to a non-Vietnamese restaurant. It's the only time she can try something new because God knows she wouldn't venture out on her own. And she added, "I can eat anything." Yeah right. Okay then, Jimmy Changas it is! Watching my parents eat anything non-Asian reminds me of contestants eating bugs on Fear Factor. It didn't look enjoyable. They said they were full after eating one fajita. Uh, okay. My dad finished the Mexican rice though... the closest thing resembling Asian cuisine.
If I wasn't around (and moved like I had contemplated), my mom would've had one lonely birthday. My brother wasn't going to do shit for her. It would've only been her and my dad. I hate that guilt is the driving force for me doing what I do. What the fuck is wrong with me?
|Berry chantilly cake and tiramisu from Whole Foods Market. So good!|