It seems like a lot of people celebrated Christmas this year by rote rather than with zest and passion. (Pity!) I almost joined that commune, but somehow managed to abandon relentlessly battling the forces of change/give up desperately trying to recycle the past, to make it in time for the 9 o'clock mass on Christmas Eve. I spent the next few days after that relishing the four food groups and enjoying my family and friends.

Shaun came over the other evening to talk a bit with my mom and grandmother (my mother's mother) while I powdered my nose and rouged my cheeks upstairs in my bedroom. We left to have ice cream at the mall afterward, which I had been anticipating all afternoon. I even skipped dinner (which I usually don't, because I usually can't) so as to fully optimize the Ben & Jerry's ice cream experience. It seemed like such a clever idea at that time (but wasn't).

Anyway, I haven't been bothered to sleep much lately, especially since it will be 2010 soon. My parents don't understand why I have to talk and laugh so loudly on the phone, listen to alternative/post- rock, surf the Internet and take my showers at 3 in the morning. This très irritates them.

With regards to everything I can remember that's happened this year (I don't have that great a memory though), I don't know how I could have tried harder. However, I guess I could have tried harder in school. (More A's, less U's.) And I guess on more occasions, I could have acted more socially responsible instead of compromising what I stand for just to create something socially comfortable. And I guess I could have also confused what I had with what I was less often. And I guess it wouldn't have hurt anyone if I remembered how the end of the Apostle's Creed went.

Gonna be better in 2010. (Tomorrow.) Cya!!

Ps- Goldfrapp....... Lesbian.

Today is Christmas Eve. We usually go to my uncle's house in the evening to wish him a Happy Birthday and appreciate what it means to be family. For as long as I can remember, that's usually what happens on the night before Christmas. I've been reluctant to commit to anything or anyone who isn't family, so I haven't quite figured out yet what I will do with myself tonight. My dad says I should go to church. I'm just hoping it will be enough to fill the hole, or I might have to use something else to fill/forget the hole. "It's complicated". At least my mom is roasting lamb for my dinner which reminds me of last Christmas Eve, last last Christmas Eve, the Christmas Eve before last last Christmas Eve, etc. (Comforted.) I would have outstayed my welcome last Christmas Eve if I had known. I wouldn't have left early.

Sarah (the bad one who makes me do bad things) has been out of service since last week, which made it possible for me to be good again. The past few days have been easy and I realised I was never so happy in my whole life. Shaun gave me a blue flower at 2 AM the other morning which made me feel like one million dollars and helped me put a few of my own fears in order. I am not rich, but there is nothing I want that can be wrapped and then unwrapped. (Everyone thinks I'm just trying to be difficult.)

Got to nap now. Have a Merry Christmas!

Hello! I decided last week that maybe I want to write when I grow up. I just haven't decided yet what I would write about. My vocabulary is not that great and I tend to run my sentences together. I also feel tired and uninspired on most days. I'm not too worried, though. A lot can happen between Now and "when I grow up". Like, I could change my mind. Or, marry someone really rich. (I'm hoping it's the latter.)

Anyway. I weigh about 3 lbs more after a shower. (Based on the assumption that I washed my hair during the shower.)

Hmmmmm...... Apart from being totally lazy about updating this space and ruining my relationship with the only person I could have spent my only life with by beating his (not very high) high score on Bejeweled Blitz (I swear I was playing with both my eyes closed), December has been ridiculously amazing. In a teenage/unproductive/irresponsible way.

So far, I've passed out after mixing my alcohol, declared moral bankruptcy by flirting with club bouncers, repeatedly deceived unsuspecting cashiers at the 7- Eleven, talked and then exchanged contact details with (good looking) strangers, mistaken ZoukOut for a slumber party, and tried convincing every cab driver that it's not yet past midnight at 4 AM ("Give chance la, Uncle. Show some mercy."). I wonder if these are my "glory days" that I will tell my children about, because I've never won any trophies for sports (no athletic prowess) and I rank Top 10 (from the bottom) academically.

It's always been my belief that there is a way to be good again. (Detox diet, hang out with your parents more, rehab, watch a movie at the mall, stay home to do quizzes on Facebook.) Christmas will be here soon, which leaves me with 6 days to get my name back onto the Nice list in Santa's (but more importantly my parents') database. Or else I will be unwrapping bath towels and/or toilet paper holders again. (Sad face.)

Anyway, last night was pretty cool. We converted Keith's room into a hotbox, and everyone became seriously funny. At one point, I thought the cupboard I was leaning on was trying to eat me. Yea..... Then I had to go lie down. (Typical.)

K. Bye..... I am going to see my lovely boyfriend now. Because he is so lovely. And even though I am extremely exhausted from spending the entire day lazing in bed with him, I will now summon all my strength and energy to go see him. Because he is so lovely. And I am an amazing girlfriend.

Hopefully you will have a smooth sailing shopping experience at the mall this weekend and get your Christmas shopping out of the way. To ease your pain a bit, I have compiled a list of possible gift ideas for Justine: Book voucher, cash, cheque.

Love you all, Z. (The new X.) Feel free to steal it. (It's ok. We all know you saw it here first.)

sup. today was great actually. had lunch with justine. we had fish, from Manhattan fish market. she ate alot. basically cause she's a pig. i mean she took my tomato even before i started on my meal. WTF right?

right now we're sitting outside the cathay in the wi-fi zone beside starbucks. i'm using my friend's mac to blog. i think i'm a more awesome blogger than justine because whatever she says is not true. really, it isn't. So.... you guys shouldn't be reading this shit!!! especially that stalker girl from my work place (hello jasmine). you guys should read stuff like Jeffrey Archer, not this crap.

The lights here are pretty, like justine's face(i'm only saying this cause i want *** tonight)
K i'm done blogging. i hope you guys have a pleasant time. stop reading this shit seriously you fucking retards. bye.

shaun.

How are things? It's nice to be home again. My bed is still more comfortable than your bed. (Don't be mad.) I'm going to backtrack and write in past tense now. KL was good.

My mom gave me one piece of luggage to hold my clothes, toiletries and shopping. Following my natural instincts, I packed only panties. (It's called strategy.) Kind of also really unhygienic, but..... Omg, nothing. It IS kind of also really unhygienic. But it's strategic.

They served me chicken between ciabatta on the plane. I was almost done with it when I realised the businessman next to me hadn't even put down his papers about the Russian train wreck to look at his plate. (I'd have felt offended if I were his sandwich.) I looked up from my seat and realised that no one was eating the food they'd been served. (Everyone was reading.) Maybe its ill omen for businessmen to eat on planes. Or, maybe they're just afraid to get sauce on their ties. Personally, I wouldn't trust a businessman with HP sauce on his tie. Anyway. I took my book out to read, just to fit in. I ended up getting a headache after reading half a paragraph, but couldn't fall asleep because the (annoying) kid back in coach wouldn't stop singing MJ songs.

And you can't possibly tell someone, what more a kid, who is singing MJ songs to STFU, because it's MJ. Right? Like, Michael Jackson. Right? I know his music is timeless and everything, but it wasn't played a lot on the radio as I was growing up, so I've never really had the opportunity to develop anything (admiration/adoration/crush/etc) for the man.

He died a few months back, and suddenly everyone I knew was heartbroken, writing tweets and reblogging crap on their Tumblrs in memory of him. The radio stations also started playing his songs again. I dunno..... I can't believe it's completely sincere and not just hype. Maybe if we'd shown all this appreciation and love for him while he was alive, he'd have lived his life differently/better. Anyway, that was June. It's now December! (Time flies.)

My mom says I have "too much clothes". (What????) She's probably going to throw away a significant portion of my closet while I'm out having lunch with a friend again (again). Which I guess is all right, because I won't even notice until a next year. "Mom, have you seen my Rolling Stones t- shirt?" "I threw it away. You didn't look nice in it, and the print was fading anyway." "What the????? That was sort of the design. Anyway, what the??????"

Maybe I won't even care, since I'm supposedly "less materialistic" after returning from Batam. I claim to prefer investing in human relationships than in clothes. (Hopefully my thoughts translate into actions.)

Anyway, I got really bored one afternoon. (My parents were at a spa, Eltjse wasn't returning my calls, and there is only so much coffee you can drink at Starbucks in one afternoon before your eyes start twitching uncontrollably.) In an attempt to inject a little bit of excitement into my day, I decided to go to the hair academy next to the mall to put streaks in my hair. The last time I Did It Myself (DIM) was 2 weeks ago and a waste of money, because there was no visible change.

It's more affordable at the hair academy because they're only aspiring hair artists, who can't guarantee 100% Beauty/might screw things up. After discussing what I wanted done to my hair with a junior (their service is the cheapest) in broken Malay, I was stuck in a dilemma about which colour to use.

I made my decision 40 minutes later, and unclipped my hair to reveal my full mane of wonder and glory. I watched the wannabe hairdresser's reflection in the mirror turn blue as his jaw fell off of his face, onto the floor. The noob couldn't handle it, obviously. He walked away to talk with someone I assumed was his Hair Master. Then he walked back to tell me that I'd have to pay double what we had initially agreed on for him to do what we had initially agreed on. (Traitor.) (Piece of shit.)

I truly thought I was doing him a favour by giving him a taste of "The Real World", and of course its hair. An experience the silky, knot- free hair of a mannequin cannot offer. Untangling hair is part of The (his) Dream. (There are always 2 sides of a coin, kiddo.) I'm quite certain hair academies (at least the good ones) incorporate hair untangling as a compulsory module in their syllabus. Besides untangling hair being the ultimate test of endurance, it also develops character. I don't know what hope there is for him..

Ok bye.

Ps- Haha, I just saw that Kevin put his religious views as "Jedi" on Facebook. Hahahaha. Ahahahahahaha...... Ahahahhaa! LOL. (Hahahaha.) (AHAHAHAHHA!!!!) (He's so funny.)

I just realised that Jesus was a Capricorn. Traditionally, Capricorns are practical, prudent, ambitious, disciplined, patient, careful, humorous, and reserved. They are, however, also pessimistic, fatalistic (hahaha), miserly, and grudging. Maybe I should go back to teaching catechism to 9 year olds in church.

My parents and I are visiting KL for a few days. (My first time.) I take a longer time commuting between our home and town, than it's going to takes us to reach KL. The last time I was on an airplane, they served me cheese and Ben & Jerry's ice cream as snacks. It's a short- haul flight, so I'm probably only going to get juice this time around. Which most likely isn't "freshly squeezed" even though that's going to be what's written on the carton it's poured from. (Ugh.)

Shaun tried to talk me out of going by enticing me with freebies the other night. ("Please don't go. I'll even throw in a free mouse.") Money can't buy me love, obviously. Besides, I don't know what I'd do with 2 mouses.

My mom terrorizes my dad a lot, and sometimes they make me pick sides. (She's the matriarch, feared by all.) I usually just shrug my shoulders, because I'm uncomfortable and dislike making decisions that matter/terrified. Even more so if they're life- threatening. (My mom could start making me wash my own laundry, and my dad could stop giving me an allowance.)

Hope I get to see Eltjse and her family. Ok bye. Have a good week..

Looks like someone just died. (There’s a very elaborate procession going on along our main street.) And my Facebook account got hacked into again. (Annoying.) Sorry, guys.

So, yesterday, our yoga instructor tried to kill my parents and I by making us stay in the reverse triangle pose for close to an eternity. Last month she tried to kill me by making my forehead touch the ground while I was in the downward- facing dog position. (Owwww.....!) (Crazy biatch.) Then she tried to turn us against roast beef and lamb chops to be........... Vegetarians. Meat apparently “clogs your thinking”. (What the..................... Hell?????) My mom was a complete sell out! (Saw that coming.) My dad and I stood our ground, though. We know exactly how we feel about meat.

Then we went to see my grandmother. (My dad's mom.) She's kind of very fat and her muscles are degenerating, which makes walking very challenging for her. She requires like, 7 people and a wheelchair to move around. We lack the manpower to care for her properly at home, so she had to go live in a nursing home a couple of months back. I go to see her every weekend, but she never remembers my face. (I don't blame her.) The place is filled with old people who sit around all day because no one really remembers to spend time with them and I think some are embarrassed to ask people to spend time with them. It makes me sad on some days.

Not so much yesterday, because my grandmother wouldn’t stop telling me that I had lizard shit on my face. (My monroe piercing.) Clearly, the Silent Generation doesn’t appreciate body modification. She told me at least 15 times. I can't tell if it was her dementia or witty personality. My family likes to poke fun repeatedly until someone cries. (I'm usually someone.)

Kinda bored right now. Shaun totally forgets that I’m alive while he is conning strangers into purchasing laptop computers from him. I'm gonna get into the shower now because we're having dinner out. (Our home kitchen is closed on weekends.) Hope you guys had a great weekend. Ta!

(A bit more on Batam)

Being a shining example of moral leprosy, I walked around the site with a purposeful expression and paint brush in my hand the entire second day. It was a coy tactic I adopted to get out of doing hard manual labour (heavy lifting/cementing/hammering/dangerous stuff/etc). With no measurable upper body strength, I get in the way more than I get things done. In the end, I spent the day doing PR work/playing with orphans.

I overdosed on Honey Stars at the breakfast buffet the next morning. I was without my mother’s supervision or any sense of self- control. My mom never lets me have cold milk and cereal for breakfast, because she loves me a hell lot/it’s the worst thing anyone could put in their stomachs in the morning. As a 17 year old who overuses the f- word (“Fuck! Fucking fucker!”), my cereal choice is mainly influenced by box design and TV commercials. I enjoy Honey Stars, Coco Pops, Froot Loops, Cap’n Crunch and Alpha- Bits, not the wholegrain/healthy/organic cardboard kind, with uh, nutritional value.

I felt so sick, I couldn’t even pretend to look busy doing work that day. All I could do was veg- out on the deck and watch the sun beat down on the mosque’s zinc roof (and my classmates). I turned into furniture and fell asleep for hours. Miraculously, my health fully returned to me by the time we got back to our hotel. I managed to use a facial mask, jump up and down on Charlotte’s bed, and watch Sex and The City on the TV.

I still haven’t figured out how/why anyone would/could be so happy with so little. I’m quite sure they know a secret about life which keeps them from hollowly acting out life’s motions. I hope I haven’t missed the forest for the trees. (It’s so easy to.)

I went to the bookstore in town yesterday and almost passed out. I love books. Too bad I haven't learnt how to appreciate writings of different genres. (My loss.) Most days I'm reading literature that is borderline trash. Nonetheless, I still frequently stumble upon opinions, feelings, perspectives, and visions, which I'd initially imagine were unique and particular to myself in my readings. It's an incredible feeling, to feel and think the same emotions and thoughts as someone else. (As though a hand has come out, and taken yours.) Especially when it's someone whom you've never met (and probably never will), and tenfold when it's someone who's been six feet under for forever.

Ok, enough. It's not like your mom is making any contributions to my New Sneakers Fund if I tell you to read more books. (UK size 4. Just saying.) But seriously, nobody wants to be stupid. Read more. (Just looking out for you.)

Anyway. I went to the bookstore in town yesterday and almost passed out. But I didn't, obviously. (Obviously what?) I'm anemic, and I hadn't eaten meat since Wednesday. I don't take iron pills. And you know how my heart beats a lot faster when I'm excited. (Sushi, catching the clock at 11:11, fire engines, Shaun, cakes, chocolate, other food, watching someone use a hand drill, shiny things, etc.)

I never perform under pressure and don't deal well with deadlines. (I hand in my assignments at least 2 weeks late, or not at all.) (I'm kinda really good at procrastinating.) My neck gets itchy when I sweat, and my face turns red after a run. (I seek refuge in the toilet during PE classes.) I'm allergic to seawater. (Those along our coasts.) I vomit through my nose when I drink too much alcohol. (And then cry cause I'd be so freaked out and dizzy.) I break out in cold sweat each time I jaywalk. (I jaywalk daily.) I get light headed if I stare at the blinking lights on a Christmas tree for too long. (I'm still going to do it this Christmas. I'm curious to find out the exact duration before I need to look away.)

I'm constantly being misjudged and labeled as "lazy" or "megaslacker", but I learnt to take that in my stride when I was only 8 years old. I was born with a physique that is more inclined to lounging and meditation. (Low- impact exercise and low- intensity activities.) By right and logic, I should have passed out in that bookstore yesterday. THAT many shelves of new books and the act of sneaking a Starbucks past security, should have set my heart in cardiac arrest. But that didn't happen, and I ended up just buying myself a new book.

Took a train to the Expo, got past immigration and customs fine. I was a bit unnerved at first because I had 3 packets of chewing gum on me, but I must have scared the officer with my face piercing. (Cause I'm like, so gangster and so badass, and like, even the police are afraid of me.) Said Hi to Shaun and almost tripped in my high heels. (Aforementioned none existent hand- eye- brain- leg- mouth coordination when I'm excited.)

Went to the nearby mall to watch a (really bad) movie with Cally to kill time. Robert Pattinson's foundation WAS 2 (maybe even 10) shades too light, and his face was ugly. And he broke up with Bella in the middle of the forest (what the????), using "It's not you, it's me" (what the????). And Bella was a stupid whore, using people not things throughout the entire movie. (Bitch, puh- lease! Cut it out!) I think I feel sad for the werewolf. Bella picked Edward over him and was all "It's him. It's always been him" in his face. (Ouch!) And his nose is so big. As if God had extra Play- Doh or something, and then just stuck it onto Taylor's face cause he didn't know what else to do with it.

I probably won't make it as a movie critic when I grow up, but I guess I'm ok with it because that's never been my dream.

Shaun got off from work and we discovered a new way home which didn't involve getting onto the train. (Kudos to Cally.) Sadly, it didn't involve getting into a cab either, but onto a couple of buses instead.

Lately, I've been thinking "at least we're alive" a lot. Not just breathing, blinking, talking, eating........ Not just here or present, but like, Alive. In between falling asleep with my nose pushed into Shaun's armpit, I was thinking "at least we're alive" the bus ride home. Anyway, I wonder what's the worst that could happen if I swallowed too much chewing gum.

Hi. We had very limited time and access to the Internet while in Batam which had me off- kilter at first. I usually read my emails before brushing my teeth in the mornings. (Compulsive web surfing?? Possible addiction.) (Shaun calls me an "e- whore".) I managed to get some Internet (I wrote on my dad's wall on Facebook) by the hotel pool (the signal is strongest there) using Heidi's iPod (my iPod can only play good music) on the second night, which was like calamine lotion to my rash.

Anyway, an unusual incident happened to me in Batam. An incident I feel I must talk about. Actually, it was a series of unusual incidents that took place over a few days which led me to an epiphany. Haha, I'm kidding! (I'm Justine!! Just another mentally retarded teenager who rarely thinks about things that matter.) I'm only saying I had an epiphany because that's usually what people say after spending 4 days in a country where poverty is literally in your face, in the form of an unwanted child with rotten teeth or another. Ok, here goes:

After checking into our (Natasha, Charlotte, Heidi and I) hotel room to inspect the TV, hairdryer, and thread count of our sheets, we took a memorable bus ride through the shanty town known as Sekupang (I think) in the (scary) torrential rain. Our tour guide spoke mandarin the entire time, so you can imagine how much Batam history and special insider information I missed out on cause my Chinese stinks.

Being a Geography student (who almost failed Geography), I couldn't look out the window and NOT assess the probability of a slope failure/watch the safety factor diminish to less than 1. Liquefaction was apparent, so was a mudslide. (I may have passed my exam by shear luck, but I'm familiar with the role of water in slope failure.) I think I'm coming across as slightly over dramatic, but one of our wheels did sink into quicksand (or something like it), and we were stuck for 10 minutes or so. I dunno. I was dozing in and out of sleep.

The rain subsided by the time we got to the orphanage. Despite suffering from jet lag (Batam is 1 hour behind Singapore time) my classmates and I mustered all our energy to whitewash the walls of a mosque. (I should've mentioned earlier that the objective of our trip was to help complete an unfinished mosque.) (I was unaware of this until I was told to get off my ass and pick up a paint brush. As usual, last to get the memo/way out of the loop.) (I meant it when I said I was going to Batam to "play with orphans".)

I was homesick and Natasha became fast best friends with the hotel front desk by evening time. (She called them like, 6 times in an hour and a half, to ask for 2 extra towels.) We wanted to watch Moulin Rouge on HBO, instead of meet the class to reflect on everything that had happened in the day. So we did that. (We're totally badass.) Until we were summoned up to Room 205 by our teacher. (We're also totally lame.)

This is a pretty half- baked post trip reflection. But watch this space cause this is only Day 1. Ok, I got to go cause Shaun's home from work. We're meeting even though his "legs are destroyed". (This must be real love.)

I just found a piece of chocolate in my hair. And I ate it. (I was eating chocolates this morning.) Anyway, my feelings have been unfettered by thoughts of the future and oblivious to the past lately. I feel like I could float to wherever you are if I wanted to. (So light.) (So cool.)

Went by the grocer's after breakfast to pick up some chocolates and muesli bars that will hopefully see us through the next 4 days. I've a strong feeling we're going to finish everything within the first 6 hours. (Charlotte and Natasha la, eat so much!!!!! Sigh.)

I leave on the 9 o'clock ferry tomorrow morning. (I hope I don't get seasick.) I haven't quite felt like this before, so I'm packing one of Edward's t- shirts. (It smells like him.) (Shaun thinks he's Edward Cullen now.) (Some of his recent text messages: "Twilight at 9 on starworld. ZOMG", "Shit I love twilight", "He can read minds leh")

Cya.

Hello.

Some of my friends are in Malacca and my cousins (Sarah and Valerie) will be away at church camp this weekend. I can't go because their cross has no Jesus on it. I'm Catholic, I sometimes pray via Mary and use the crucifix instead. Sarah told me to "just imagine his body is there (on the cross)". Can you believe her? Haha! I'm also not going because I hate camps.

Essentially, all this means is a quiet weekend to recuperate and detox. Maybe also discover a new meaning and purpose to life..... Something Zen. So far, I've caught up on some of my reading, and behaved like a complete weirdo cyberstalker person by exploiting web search engines, blogs and Facebook.

I've noticed that it has become very in/trendy again to wear foundation 2 shades fairer than our actual skin tone. (I'm using your prom pictures on Facebook as reference here.) I used to walk around town with a face that was of a different colour from my neck down, when I first found out what make up was. "You're telling me this stuff is not edible? As in, it CANNOT be eaten. And different shades of founda- dation exist???? Whaaat the hell??! Are you serious?!?!!! Are you trying to kill me?!?!?!?#*@&*&!!" (What a noob...... ) I stopped (eventually), and started using the right (I think/hope) foundation. That look just wasn't for me. However, it's a pretty useful make up technique I still use sometimes. (Like for Halloween.)

Anyway, keep it up. Don't stop wearing (the right) make up because you're unquestionably uglier without it. I know a lot of people are going to try to tell you not to use cosmetics but embrace your natural beauty. Try not to snigger/snort in their faces or look at them as if they're psycho. (It's a toughie, but it's also rude.) Just ignore them. Pretend you can't see them. (They're probably still bitter about their bad experience with cheap make up because they couldn't/still can't afford the real stuff.) Even if you're perfect (whatever that means), put on some mascara. It won't eat you/you won't regret it/your life will only get better.

I've also observed a lot of girls smiling as if they were in pain. (Almost crying?) (And I'm not just talking about the girl in college that we laugh at on a daily basis.) I found this group of 15 year olds on the Internet today. (Well, I found one. Which led me to the posse.) (There are at least 5 of them with this spastic smile.) (I think they're 15? That's what it said on their profiles.) (Can you trust the Internet?) (According to my Facebook, I turned 69 in September.)

It's actually really funny when you're looking at the first 20 pictures. I guess it is sort of cute? (In a spastic way.) The next few pictures get you wondering if this is some sort of deformity/disability (because it becomes less funny if it's a physical impairment) and if their parents approve of this kind of facial expression. Hell, if I were their mom I'd be so pissed off right now. I DID NOT ask for an epidural and then push you out of my vagina so you can make this face in front of the camera. (You know what I'm saying?) By the time you're nearing the end of the album, you'll be SO ANNOYED and may even feel embarrassed for them.

I mean, hello???? There's a whole lot of this shit on the World Wide Web. And we're all very aware of how it has expanded into the Ubiquitous Uncontrollable Universe in the last decade. Who knows how many other people are sitting behind their computer screens making jokes out of their faces??! (I know there are at least 3 others. Cause I sent them the link.)

I'm really tempted to use real names and pictures to illustrate my point better, and also so that we can put a (THEIR) face to the problem and laugh about it together. Have you seen the "I'm smiling but I look like I'm crying ooh la la" face? I'm quite certain not everyone is gonna be able to handle it, so people are going to be at this space with their eyes closed halfway through. And then I'd most likely be like, NO! Open your eyes right away! You've got to read what I wrote!

And this space would become like Perezhilton.com or something and I think I could get sued. Which would obviously be a problem and piss my parents off big time. "I DID NOT ask for an epidural and then push you out of my vagina so you could talk trash on the Internet and then get sued for it, young lady!!!!!" (You know how my mom is.) So I'd probably have to pay off the defamation damages with my own allowance in weekly installments of like, $4 or something. (Pathetic.) (I'd rather buy clothes.)

WHERE is all this attitude coming from? I'm not usually like this. And I actually don't know three quarters of these people we're making fun of. (You're laughing, right?) (I'm just typing.)

Namaste. Motherbitch of 2009 (and probably 2010. But who knows?) out.

I've had a lot of people come up to me and say "I hate you!!" for a variety of reasons.

Some reasons:

I'm the kind of person who will force you to eat frozen yogurt and sushi with me for 4 consecutive days. Con you into sharing (you pay, I eat) an ice cream sundae with me. Call you names because of your new hairstyle. (Asymmetrical is ok a half hour after you cut it, but retarded and NOT ok for the following weeks. Sorraaaye if "I can't meet for lunch, got a project to do" during my school holidays.) I'll point and laugh when you fall. (You guys have just got a bad/no sense of humour.) Copy your homework day after day. (Wholesale.) Constantly talk shit about your boyfriend cause HE SUCKS. Cock. (Whoaaa... That was totally unnecessary.) (But you're a gem and you TOTALLY deserve only the best.) The list goes on..... But my mom says I'm special on the inside. (That's how I get by.)

I'd hate me if I weren't me. No. Sometimes I hate me while I'm still me. (I mean, I'm always me.) I'll look into the mirror and hate what I see. (Me.)

But, to be anti- Justine because you weigh more than she does is ridiculous. (Ignoring the fact you're a total creep for knowing that much.) To be anti- Justine because you weigh more than she does is ridiculous AND CREEPY. (Acknowledging the fact you're a total creep for knowing that much.) I don't even think I know what my weight is. (It fluctuates.) All right. Honestly speaking, like, just in my personal opinion, to be anti- Justine is No. Wrong. Not advisable. (You're only missing out.) (Ok, I'll shut up now.)

Maybe you should have an extra helping of self esteem alongside your green eggs and ham every morning. It's at the most only 15 calories per serving, or something. Ok. That was mean and uncalled- for. You're obviously struggling with your body image and probably suffering from an eating disorder of some sort. I hope you know what this means for you. (A lot of trouble buying insurance when you grow up.)

I get it. You think big isn't beautiful. (Big houses are, though.) (Mika is retarded, right???? His music is mostly annoying and just mediocre.) I've read about how the media is getting heavier. Big beautiful women (BBW) are apparently very in nowadays. Ugly Betty was a cover girl for awhile. (A month.... 1 issue?) But magazines continue to place skinny girls on the cover, and between the covers. (Just trying to keep it real.)

"Nothing tastes as good as skinny feels" Kate Moss, superHAWTmodel and thinspirational speaker. (Haha, I quoted Batman at my GP exam.) (One of my resolutions for next year is to be more appropriate.)

Ok. So, there's quite a bit of contradiction going on. (A distinctive feature- besides the improper quotations- of a GP essay written by Justine.) (Am I a friend of the fat lady, or am I not? My stand is unclear.) We're talking about Big as in So grossly overweight that it is unhealthy, I think? (I also tend to write my definitions in the middle or towards the end. GP essay FAIL.) Clearly, this has taught you nothing except that I'm confused and still working shit out. Ugh, you know what? Just get yourself a boyfriend. It'll take your mind off things/yourself. And maybe also stop eating fast food. Ok?

I

can't

write

another

line.

*keels over*

Be a decent weight. And don't hate me cause there's more of you and less of me. (Ahahaha!) (Bitch.) I love you.

My mom has to pay $200 or else attend personally before the Subordinate Court for creating a condition favourable to the breeding of mosquitoes in a flower pot. This is an offence committed under section 15.1 of the Control of Vectors and Pesticides Act (Cap. 59). She's been advised to take all necessary preventive measures to ensure that the condition of our home is not favourable to the propagation and habouring of vectors in future.

Way to go, Momma. I knew we should have gotten Sarah to flash her boobs instead of just offering iced tea to the inspector after he found the larvae. (HOW was the iced tea supposed to make him happy? HOW????)

Last night was hilarious. Sarah says that we've to keep it strictly between the 2 of us or else "our reputation will be ruined". Ha ha ha. Our retarded/asshole reputation. Ruined! (Omigod, so much at stake.) Yeaaa.... I'll tell you the colour of the bra I'm wearing to make up for it? No.

Anyway, I ran into my GP tutor by the river the other night. The one who addresses his students by "GP Warriors" in his emails to us. (They now go directly to Junk Mail, because I've realised ALL his emails are instructions on how we should go about completing our assignments. Yawn.)

I was expecting to spend the night as the Minister of Safety and Security (The one who holds up your luscious locks as you are puking your brains out, the one who beats up strange men who try to touch your lady lumps/the junk in your trunk, the one who takes videos of you to post onto Youtube.com), because I was 2 hours late (I've learned from past experience that my friends wait for no one) before I even got onto the train. (When I'm "waiting for the bus", I'm really only fresh out of the shower.)

But then the boys were going through something known as "Kieran Syndrome". (Main symptom of Kieran Syndrome: Muscle paralysis which forces you to sit and sulk in a corner, acting like a wet blanket.) It's kind of like depression. But..... It's not. This happens to the boys a lot when they're not yet intoxicated. And when Kieran is around. (Ha ha ha. I'm kidding!!!! Or not.) (Ahahaha!)

Everyone called it a night after listening to some inappropriate music (Beyonce's "Irreplaceable", Aerosmith's "I Don't Wanna Miss A Thing", more songs you wouldn't play at a bar/can't dance to) and drinking a couple of jugs of something because they had interviews the next day. Sarah and I, with little/no ambitions/interviews, walked upstream (may have been downstream. I'm not sure which way the river flows.) to another bar with better and live music, where I had my first glass of Bailey's on the rocks. It was as though Christmas came early. No. Really. I usually only ever have Irish Cream liqueur in my eggnog. At Christmas in December. (It's now middle of November.)

Then we walked to another bar (because we can) while having a hardcore discussion about Gossip Girl. (Sarah likes Serena. IKR? Whaatttt?????) (But then I saw this, and was like WHAATTTTT????!) (Yea. But now I am back at being grossed out by Sarah.) We shared a drink because we're saving for a rainy day/on a really tight budget/out of cash. (Whichever you want to believe.) Also because I have an alcohol tolerance of ZERO. (I'll think you are the funniest person on Earth after 2 sips.)

Akira (2 years ago I HATED the dude. I was so dayyyum gangster/badass back then. It's a complicated/moderately funny story I'll tell you one of these days. Haha) made us a basket of wedges and let us have a mojito. He also told us to STFU without the 'TF', so basically just SU. Or, "please keep it down". I mean, this guy has tattoos on his face! (His frikken face!) Were you expecting him to say 'please'??! (Yea, kinda.) (Yea, well, he did.) Ha ha ha, whaaatttt? Why am I typing like a moron? Were Sarah and I able to SU???? Yea. For like 2 minutes.

Then we heard music from the club below, so we rode the elevator down to check it out. It happened to be a private party but we stayed to dance anyway. (Because we can.) Felt kinda out of place because while everyone was dressed in black and white (and invited), we looked like we fell right out of a rainbow (and not invited). Said hi to Mr Kupfer (major QT) before getting into a cab. (Midnight charges are ridiculous. Now I cannot afford anything.)

Ok. Time to eat my breakfast.

Welcome

Hi. So...... I'm back!!

The last time we met (I typed/you read) I was going crazy because my first real boyfriend (No offense, Ben and Gab. You were both awesome. See you guys around!) had stopped loving me. (Asshole/dog/cat/cunt face/mofo/jerk/etc) (Yes offense, Andrew.) Being a retarded/stubborn/stupid hoe and my own worst enemy, I repeatedly told myself otherwise. And repeatedly believed those lies. It took awhile before I found myself madly in love with someone that no longer existed. In the end, I was only stuck in a fictional relationship. (An imaginary boyfriend. What's my problem?)

So I did what I had to do: Break up, break down. Drink up, fool around. (2 days in Paris) I started acting out. I stopped doing my homework. I spilled nail polish on my desk and cut (holes in my clothes) myself. I filled my social calender with people I knew I cared nothing about. Half of them, I probably didn't even like. I had my head in the clouds a lot, constantly longing to be somewhere else with someone else. My world became very small. I wanted so badly for things to be back in my own hands. This was probably the saddest I'd ever been. (Whoa. Intense dramatization much a lot many!)

I got really self conscious/uncomfortable with myself and stopped talking to a lot of people. Or everyone. I pierced my face. (My frikken face.) I ate my feelings, which frequently left me in a carbohydrate coma. (I was feeling a lot at that time.) (At least I ate cookies that were gluten free. And ice cream with organic strawberry chunks. And chocolate that was extra dark. I think?) I stopped picking up/returning phone calls. I literally fell off the face of this Earth. (HOW is that even possible, you may ask? I don't really know.) On most days, I was consumed by feelings of regret and bitterness (the past). It was an unhealthy obsession and I was constantly on the run. I became addicted to changing the url of my blog and making new spaces on the Internet every 3 days. To date I have registered 7 blogs and 3 tumblrs under my name. I'd write a post, then rewrite it. Rewrite it again, then delete it a couple of days later. (Lame.)

(Ok. My friends will probably say that I have a track record of displaying this sort of whack/anti- social/irrational/retarded/creepy behaviour. Or that this is typical of me/"So Justine", or whatever. Just ignore them. Yea.... Whatever, friends of Justine. Whatever. \m/)

This carried on into my 3rd term in college. As well as my 4th. I threw rocks at and made fun of the fat kids on campus. I soon became The Motherbitch/The Most Hated Girl of 2009. No. I'm kidding. I dunno. Whatever. I'd sleep during lectures. Or not attend them at all. I'd scream and shout at my teachers and flip them the bird (_|_) whenever I got sent out of the classroom. Ha ha ha shut up, I'm kidding. Thank God/my Math tutors/everyone else, I passed my exams. (My ass is getting promoted. Yeeha!)

One morning, I woke up. (As usual.) I decided to rejoin the world. I warmed up to the idea of making magic eyes at random guys and squeezing their butts. I channeled a lot of my time and energy into taking extra precautions to avoid anything/anyone that could possibly contain traces of Andrew (eg: brothels, Boys' Town, drunk girls, etc). It was tiring and a lot of hard work, but I had him erased/deleted/destroyed from my mind soon enough. Life is short. And so was his penis. We deserve the best. I only allowed myself to think positive thoughts. (Not HIV positive/ex boyfriend thoughts. Just good vibe thoughts.)

Ok, I've gotten a bit bored of making fun of my ex boyfriend so bla bla bla it's the middle of October now. Bla bla bla bla bla I fall ridiculously in love with a boy who lives a 20 second brisk walk away from me. Bla bla bla I'm hesitant at first because my previous relationship left me traumatized and hopeless but bla bla bla knight in shining armor bla bla bla bla so cute bla crazy in love bla bla bla bla bla bla bla hi baby.

Yea. Yup. That's it basically.

Got to get into the shower now because I'm off to see an American director who graduated from NYU with 500+ friends on Facebook, who is also a member of a poetry club. (I owe you guys an elaboration and explanation.) He's got cute curly locks and blue eyes. Sarah did extensive risk assessment on his ass and concluded that he is Safe. Ha ha ha. If this space is not updated tomorrow, please call the police.

Unrequited Love: Been there. Done that. Over it.

One thing I've learned is that the more it seems Love hurts, the more you can be sure it's something else.

"Isn't hate merely the result of wounded love?" - The Joy Luck Club

Dear Myself,

Just because Terry Nazon's astrology website tells you that him being a Taurus and you being a Libra is a perfect match, does not mean your love life is going to be tied with a bow. Stop checking your Facebook and Twitter pages! No one's sent you a new message. Go outside and smell the flowers. Maybe also talk to a real human. It's good for you. Call me if you want the good life. Mates forever. \m/

Sincerely,
Me (You) Whatever.

On some days, I feel like ALL I have is the Internet and a pipe dream/fantasy. Yesterday was one of those days. My (stuffed) dog wouldn't give me a shred of attention and the dude I'm into TOTALLY wasn't calling me. I was left with no other option but to Google the shit out of him. (Hunter Parrish's favourite books are Maniac Magee and Holes.) I think we all have days like these, right? But they're not real. (WHY hasn't Hunter called??!)

Proposal

I'm considering starting an association/a support group for young naive girls who think their boyfriends are unbuttoning their blouses for a better view of their hearts, because they are WRONG! Your thoughts on the possible creation of the Anti- Assholes Association?

Version 2.0

I was asked to forfeit all my chances of sharing private moments with sexy dudes that could possibly resemble Tom Felton or Ryan Reynolds to be.............. Monogamous. We best be in love, motherfuckers! Or else it's not worth it.

This guy makes me nervous, sends me text messages that make me grin to myself like an idiot, I can't stop thinking about him, he beats me (only kidding- just wanna make sure you're paying attention), I love the way his mind works, he makes me laugh all the time, the sex is great (Dad!!!!! I'm kidding, the sex is awesome! Ahahahaha! All right, all right. I'M KIDDING!!), he stands up for and respects me, and I believe in him. I think and hope all this is mutual, because one sided WILL NOT work.

Sorry you guys had to find out this way.