remember my tenant?
well. i'm never going to say anything nasty about her ever again.
what happened was, i had a little hair disaster the other day and... seeing how she is a hairdresser, i thought i could use some hair advice. (yeah i know, talk to her only when i need help, i'm so going to hell.)
so. i knocked on her door at 3.30am in the morning in a panic, thinking she's either going to a) completely ignore me b) open and slam the door in my face c) laugh at me and then slam the door in my face.
but she didn't. in fact, she not only told me what to do, she even offered to DO it for me.
emergency dye job at 4am and not a word of complaint. i told her, in my cannot-make-it mandarin, about how i couldn't face TheBoyfriend's parents the next day with Las Vegas on my head, and she told me, in her stumbling malaysian-english, that i should've argued with the hairdressers because "the colour is not you choose one".
and she was really nice about it all. she even came to me first thing the next morning to ask if everything was okay!
grargh. i don't believe it. i have a gem of a woman living under the same roof as i am, and i wrote about her toilet habits.
i'm going to hell. i wonder if a giant box of chocolates will be enough to say both "thank you" and "i'm-so-sorry-i'm-such-a-horrid-person-for-never-saying-hi-first and-telling-everyone-about-your-problems-with-flushing."
you think?
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update: i made an effort to catch her eye and say "hello" when she came back home sunday night, but she totally ignored me. NEVER MIND. she won't be able to ignore me after i give her chocolates.