Femme Fatale

Gee….I think my dad DID read my blog.

His cousins aren’t coming to stay at our place anymore. He told me as much. And when I asked him how come? He merely shrugged and said because he asked them to stay at my yeh-yeh’s house instead.

It’s really kindda weird because just one week ago, he was so excited about these relatives coming from China and he wanted all of us to be excited about it as well but of course at that time I wasn’t too excited lah cause all I was thinking about was my bed right and suddenly, he tells me that he asked them to stay at yeh-yeh’s place instead.

I almost crashed the car when he broke the news to me (a natural reaction from being shocked and happy - whoohooooo! I get my room back!!!!) but I was also kindda sceptical about it cause like I said, he was so excited about them coming.

I guess in a way, like how some people realize things after a while (like how I realized that I actually prefer Royce chocolates to Mon Cherri, and how I rather cry watching King Kong than Titanic, and how I love using RM0.60cents per piece Kilometrico black pens as compared to Mont Blanc), he realized that his 3 daughters are all grown-ups and that we all need our own space and that being intruded upon is NOT a good thing - most especially when one’s a beautiful stubborn, fighter-cock 26 year old, another one a sullen, private 24 year old and a 17 year old rebellious, rockin’ teenager - gee, how did daddy even tahan us till now - and ALL full-blooded fiery females too.

But then again….maybe he realized that there are too many personal things in HIS room as well, and he realized that he also does feel uncomfortable about someone staying in it the place where he and mummy shared wonderful moments together (yucks!) and he realized that hey, I don’t think I wanna give up my room to anyone! Way to go, daddy ‘o!

And it probably hit him that there’s THE additonal room and THE maid and THE extra bathroom at yeh-yeh’s place (for the convenience of all) so it’s so much better to put them up there instead. *Grin*. Sometimes my daddy can be so Sssssmart!

So, here’s a poem for you daddy (if you do indeed read my blogs):

Memories in my head, of my love for you, tears (of happiness) in my eyes, For the love that was true, Love in my heart, Which you didn’t (really) see, For your love was for her (mummy of course), And not for me (well, not that sort of love anyways).

Like a bit sad right the poem? Hmmm….but it shall do for now lah.

WHY is it that everytime I wanna do something which i end up doing anyways I also end up regretting what I did and wish I could turn back time? WHY is it everytime I tell myself, ok, you can do this but make sure its the last time you do it, I end up wanting to do it AGAIN?? Like how I told myself that the sakuras were gonna be my last tattoo because I am so freaking broke and now I am soooo dying to get two more geckos.

WHY is it that each time I’m rushing to write something down, the fucking pen has to be OUT OF INK??? And WHY when that happens, I can’t seem to find another pen or pencil anywhere else?? And WHY MUST IT HAPPEN WHEN I’M RUSHING OFF SOMEWHERE????

WHY is it when I’m so nice to people, some people can still be so terribly horrid to me?? And it’s even worse when these people don’t even know that they’re actually being very, very HORRID! Which makes things even worse because then, I cannot be angry or upset with that person! WHY must it ALWAYS be like that????

WHY is it that ’some’ people don’t take into consideration how others feel when it comes to privacy? WHY is it that ’some’ people get so over-concerned about someone else’s welfare that they forget about the welfare of those closer to them? And WHY OH WHY must this person be MY FATHER????

WHY must his cousins from China choose to come to this part of the world for Chinese New Year when there are so many other more interesting places to go to? And WHY must they be yucky, disgusting, filthy farmers from the villages of Suntak, Guongzhou where cleanliness is of the LEAST importance to them? And WHY did daddy even offer them a place to stay at OUR house???

Okok, so I’m going a little over-dramatic here but I still cannot understand WHY in the world did daddy even offer these cousins of his a place to stay in our house! If we had an extra room, fine! If we had a maid, fine! If we had extra bathrooms, fine! But we DON’T have the extra room nor do we have the maid and we definitely do NOT have the extra bathroom!!! And because of all these, my parents are giving up their room for these strangers relatives and moving into MINE! Aarrgh!!!!!!

Daddy….don’t you understand the meaning of privacy? Yes, I know these are your cousins and they’re relatives, and we should welcome them with open arms gack! into our home, but I’m a girl. That is MY bedroom you’re moving into and kicking me OUT of….sniff….and everything in that room is personal and private. And for ONE WHOLE FUCKING WEEK???? Some kind of Chinese New Year I’m gonna be having.

And daddy, while you’re busy entertaining your little relatives from China, I’ll be walking around with a smile plastered on my face, pretending to understand what they’re saying when I really don’t, and having to make polite conversation if we can even understand each another in the first place and all just because I wanna make you happy. And all the while they’re here, I’ll be feeling utterly miserable and might even think of suicide at the thought of you and mummy in MY room on MY bed and the only thing I can do to vent out my misery would be to rant and rave about it in this blog! And you wouldn’t even know how miserable I’ll be because you would never, ever be reading this. Hell, you don’t even know what Frienster is!!! WHY must I love you soooo much?????

I could just SCREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEAM!!!!!!

But…..I won’t. WHY? Because I love my dad and I do not want to give him a hard time. Because it’s only gonna be forever for one week and time will definitely pass (am on my knees and praying hard for time to FLY). Because I can always disinfect my room after the whole thing. Because I might get a BIG, FAT ang-pao (fat chance) for being so ‘understanding’. And most of all, because it’s the New Year!

But daddy, why oh why did you not think about putting them up in a hotel nearby?

Kieren James…..

I’m usually NOT the motherly type, and I so do NOT usually ponder about names for my future kids, but somehow, as I was sitting on the bog this morning, this name just weaved itself into my head and planted itself in my heart. Okok, I know it’s not exactly a very nice thought to know that my name was thought up when my mother was taking a dump la, but it’s not like as if i was purposely thinking up names. I mean, hello, I was trying to SHIT! get rid of the unused items in my body!

I can just imagine my mother telling me how she came up with my name. "We actually wanted a son, and we actually thought we were getting a son because your umblical cord got stuck between your legs. So imagine our surprise when out popped a little girl from between my legs!"

I was originally supposed to be known as Kristopher Gerald Ho, gender MALE (thanks to the umblical cord) but now, known as Kristy Geraldine Ho, gender FEMALE instead. Gee…I must say I WAS glad I was born a girl instead of a boy….that is….until I got my first taste of mentrual cramps, cold sweat running down my forehead, cannot even stand properly, having to run to the ladies every 3 hours just to check that I don’t stain my seluar dalam - again, having to wash and scrub out the stains when I DID stain it, having to wake up at bloody 4am in the morning cause I ter-stained my bedsheets, and having to spend so damn much on sanitary pads….and those extra-longs with wings, thank you.

I WAS glad I was born a girl instead of a boy….that is….until I heard about the 9 fucking months of NO sex, bloating into an ugly oversized pumpkin, swelling breasts, huge ugly-ass clothings, STRETCH MARKS aarghh!!!!, and being forced to consume foul-smelling, disgusting tasting herbs forced down your throat by over-excited in-laws only to have the little thing growing inside you kick and jab it’s limbs into your sides causing your tummy to turn into an unsightly bulge.

And then, after that 9 months of having weird cravings and terrible mood swings, you go into 48 hours of excrutiating painful labour, wanting to bite the fingers off that nurse who’s trying to calm you down while the darn doctor is forcing his WHOLE fist INSIDE you to probe around for the head of the little devil who’s causing all these, just to give birth to a wailing, screaming, little miniature of yourself covered in your own blood.

And so, I think to myself again, fuck, why wasn’t I born a boy instead?

But I guess nature has her own plans for me. Maybe that’s why I wasn’t given the prick between my legs which I was suppose to have. And, I’ve grown to love being a woman. Besides, women can do everything a man can, yes, even piss standing up and masturbating! I still love camping and climbing trees bare-legged. I can still throw myself into the waters like a rolling canon-ball and go go-cart racing with the fellas. Hell, I even beat some of them at pool (shall not mention names here…have egos to preserve)!

And yes, we, as women, do not have to deal with that thing called EGO. We do whatever we want, wear whatever we like and pick-up whomever we want. And if we ever fall which is like NEVER we can always pick ourselves up again and walk on and not even look like as if our pride took a tumble down just a few seconds ago. And that IS what so special about women.

However….back to the topic on names….if I ever do get married and pregnant (which is VERY, VERY unlikely), I would like to have a boy….so that I can name him….

Kieren James….and yes, even names which are thought up of when you’re on the bog, is special.