Watch out Vidal Sassoon! When I brandish my scissors no one can stop me!

I gave Wee Meng a teeny trim and a bit of thinning, and Zhao a major makeover. This is my best attempt at hairdressing so far. I guess it's because I've got experience with his hair before. I practised sloping on him, something which I've never done before. I must say it turned out better than expected, although the edges are pretty uneven, the result of Zhao falling asleep and tilting his head aside. But finally I got the mop on his head down to a perfectly respectable haircut.

Between my brother and I we ate two large pizzas last night. Mom and Dad won't be home till Wednesday, so it's -whoohoo- livin' solo right now. The house is getting into a beautiful mess.

I'm never eating pizzas again.

Aventurine for my brother
Colour black
No preservatives
Solitaire
Physical Resources
Ballad Pour Adeline
Ceiling fan black

Wow, i HATE this new layout for Blogger.

Wednesday was really fun, because I finally stepped out of my own shell and went to town with Dhaniah. We went to Chinatown, that is. Kreta Ayer. Niu Che Shui. So we decided to use the new NE-Line to go to Chinatown instead of traipsing all the way to Bedok and taking a bus. The story goes:

We made our way down to Dhoby Ghaut station, then walked about like blind loons looking for the NE-Line. Then went with the general flow to the other part of the station, which looked like a hospital lobby. We stepped onto the conveyor, and got smashed like tuna. I stupidly looked down at my feet and stepped around, wondering why it didn't descend then realised it was a conveyor, not an escalator. Dhaniah was already convulsing with laughter.

When we got onto the spanking new trains, we looked incredulously at the curious-looking two-toned seats. It was surprisingly comfy. Our reflections were extremely magnified, by the way.

When we reached Chinatown station, it was as crowded as China. Hoo~. The address on Dhaniah's card said New Bridge Road, so we exited Entrance A. Then walked around like blind loons looking for Chinatown Point. While we were doing so it began to rain again. Somehow we found the building and then tore our hair out when we saw a MRT exit just beside it.

Anyway we went into New Age Circle. I bought 100g of crystals, and I could only identify a couple. Rose quartz, tiger-eye, blue lace agate and aventurine. The rest looked as foreign to me as aquarium pebbles.

Mission accomplished, we traipsed back to the station. Then feeling adventurous, we decided to stop at Clarke Quay station to explore the nightclubs. However we went into Kinokuniya's instead and looked at Wicca grimoires.

Finally time threatened to throw us out, so we went our separate ways home.

Today I gave Brother the Aventurine Stone.

Okay I'll continue where I left off. I had to go out for dinner with Dad. When coming back we saw this really sad old lady selling tissue packets. Dad gave me 2 bucks to give her, and when I handed her the money, I was knocked out by the look of joy on her face. She gave me a lifetime supply of tissure packets. But it wasn't the packets. it was the happiness, the pure unadulterated happiness.

Man, this is so cool.

Dhaniah got her prom frock ALREADY! Without waiting for me! Anyway if anybody would wait for me she would have to wait till the day before prom. I haven't decided what to wear. The usual floor length frock? Or my original full-length black and gold cheongsam idea? Or the flea market frock? Or Mom's wedding gown?

I do scrimp.

Well I was just thinking, am I changing? How come I'm not funny anymore? Well, that's not the only change. I realised that I have lost my voice and my touch for singing. But that doesn't bother me. I hate it when people think I'm just somebody who spends her whole life yapping operettas. I don't, you ignorant fools. Anyway I was just saying I lost my singing voice but I really don't care. I'm planning on taking up the cello someday. Perhaps after the GCSEs.

I also realise that I'm not bimbotic any more. I'm also not the sullen depressed person either. I guess I'm finally settling down and being normal. I've stopped listening to my unhealthy music (Iron Maiden, Marilyn Manson) and now listening to classical and new age. Currently I'm listening to Tibetan Chakras. Singing bowls and flute stuff. Mom is going off to Korea, I requested a pansori CD. Since I can't sing, it won't hurt to hear another person sing.

I've got a new penpal. His name is Calven Wong Yun, an 18yo guy from Zhanjiang, Guangdong. It's reassuring to find out he didn't die of SARS. His English is also much better than Matt Hollis, the Florida penpal from 2 years ago. Matt is enlisting for the U.S. Marine Corps in August. Hopefully he won't die.

I KNOW: how it is to be a double-extremist
I WANT: to be normal
I HAVE: a pair of breasts
I WISH: i wasn't born androgynous
I HATE: men and roaches
I FEAR: dark
I HEAR: voices
I SEARCH: for my real, normal identity and my gender
I WONDER: why is there a scar running down from my navel to my privates
I REGRET: whacking the teeth out of a little boy 7 years ago
I LOVE: william dafoe
I ACHE: occasionally, my breasts and the scar
I CARE: i don't care.
I ALWAYS: sit too long on the toilet bowl
I AM NOT: female. nor male.
I DANCE: ballet
I SING: opera
I CRY: in english
I FIGHT: with teeth and nails like a real woman
I WRITE: poetry, curses, fuck words etc
I WIN: feeling guilty
I LOSE: feeling regret
I CONFUSE: people who think they understand me
I LISTEN: and then resume the limelight
I CAN USUALLY BE FOUND: in the loos checking my gender
I NEED: to know
I AM HAPPY: when there's nobody around
I SHOULD HAVE: hecked with my studies and start my business

Renato Amoroso.

How you've grown! You've made me a dithering idiot.

I don't like you. You talk of big words and twirling sentences. It's pretentious and fake, because it screams of a big need to be different.

I don't like you. I don't like people who talk too much.

I would rather like him instead. He speaks to my soul like no one else can. He speaks with his paintings, like I speak my angst with mine. A picture tells a thousand words. He is my paint; I am the canvas. I lie naked allowing emotions to wash me crimson, azure, emerald, and at the end of the day I cover the beauty with my own paint.

Black.

I would rather love her because she makes me feel my ornery heart. But seeing her glory in his caresses gives me a crat taste in my mouth. Like black paint.

I don't like you.

Dear *******,

How are you over there? Are you being treated fine? It's been over year now. How time flies! I'm already 16 years old. I had a dream about you a few nights ago, I hope you are happy. I really miss you.

Things are rather fine with me. I've finally settled down and stopped acting like I'm on speed. I rather like being quiet and calm, it keeps me from a lot of trouble. I've also dropped most of my friends. Right now I only have one close friend, and her name is Dhaniah. You'll like her, she's nice and she controls my temper.

Right, I do still have my temper. I find it hard to stop my violence when I get angry. Just a few days ago I fought with Mama and I split a couple of my books when I threw it across my room. And today I nearly clawed Marie's eyes out and spat on her. But I'm learning to control my rage.

I never said this to you, but ever since you left, I realised something. I love you and I need you during this crucial years. If you had never left, you would've stopped me from making the mistakes I've made. You would've stopped me from becoming what I have become now. But Fate cannot be challenged. Maybe Fate wanted you to leave. Maybe Fate wanted me to learn from all the mistakes I've made.

I still cry when I think of you. But I'm starting to heal. And I'm now a great deal stronger than what I was before you left. People think I'm harsh and heartless, but I'm just trying to save myself from a lot of heartbreak.

You know what? I'm going to take your advice. I won't go into a relationship. Maybe when I'm older, I might find love, but that would be a long time. Right now, I have realised a relationship requires a lot of self-discipline, a lot of your personal space and a lot of time. The old saying "All you need is love" has been proven untrue. Of course there will be a lot of flings in the middle, but I'm not going to settle for one just yet.

Well, I guess that's all. I'm a lot wiser now, but still there's a lot to learn for this lonely heart. And I know you will always be at my side, won't you?

Wherever you are, God bless and thank you.

Love,
Me

Fuck you!

So I'm to be blamed for your current miserable state am I? So I told her to be done with you did I? So to salvage your last scraps of dignity you point your bony unpolished finger at me and proclaim me a scab that is to be removed at all costs did you?

Fuck you. From now on I'm swearing off the entire male gender. YOU SUCK! Damn your fucking pride! Damn all men that ever walked the planet and screw you! Why can't men take a few tips from women for a change? Men are stupid insipid clods with a headful of ego and jockstrap full of cotton wool.

So. Ouch, the ego has landed hasn't it? You can't take it can you? YOU ARE NOT A MAN!!

FUCK YOU!!!!!!

I am an edible kitten. Now lets never speak of this
again. **pretends to forget**


Which cute or possibly strange kitten are you?
brought to you by Quizilla

Where is my chinaboy? Why doesn't he come out to see me anymore?

I think he likes Peng Peng. Why do people who are skinny and big-eyed get loved more by others? Because they can stab others with their joints and scare little kids with their bulbous gogs?

Herr Fuhrer has a haircut. Frau Fuhrer gone to spend money.

Josephine LaMarr has influenza.

Josephine LaMarr has a throat and lung infection.

But on the bright side, she can finally sing goth-metal. Voice all cracked and hoarse. And managed to imitate Schlong's I Feel Pretty to perfection. Gets a two-day holiday.

I am so tired these days. Chinese O-level is in less than 3 weeks time. I have two tests tomorrow, both of which I would definitely fail. Then I have to sing for some mini-concert in school. Not just any song, but "To Sir With Love" of all songs. FUCK FUCK FUCK. I wish I was as lucky as Dhaniah. She has everything, looks, talent, charm whatever. She doesn't have to work or anything because she'll definitely be rich and famous.

But for myself, I'll stick to my own devices. I'm going to study hard and do well (hopefully) and (hopefully) go into a Prison for Older Delinquents, (hopefully) Anglo-Chinese POD or Temasek POD. Then I'm going to (hopefully) take a degree on Business Administration (hopefully) in Harvard School of Business. Later I'm going to study to be a beautician and hairdresser. Then I'll ruthlessly find a rich husband (hopefully) and divorce him and use the alimony money to start my first makeover centre. When my business on local grounds takes off, I shall open a spa and branches to my makeover centre. When the money comes rolling in, I'll generously cut off the alimony and sail in my own money. I will definitely open three headquarters in Beijing, Shanghai and Tianjin. I will then venture in Seoul, Tokyo and Okinawa. I might put business into Bangkok, Kualar Lumpur and Jakarta. Then USA and Britain will get a hankering for this hot Asian business, so I shall oblige and open a centre in every American state and one in London. By then I'll be the richest Asian woman in the world!

Then that means I'm gonna have to fucking study for tomorrow's fucking tests.

I think I'm in lust with this China scholar in school. His skin is so white, like tofu, and he has this typical china-boy bowl haircut. Just thinking of huge red nail marks and whip welts on that white skin makes me shiver in excitement. But above all he is really nice, like his twin sister, but just too shy to talk to me.

Last thing I'm going to say is, FUCK THE MOSQUITO BITE ON MY ELBOW!!

Okay, first things first. Sorry Victor, I will not do that again.

FUCK.

This is the most fucked up day so far. I got accused of cheating, I failed a station from the fitness test, most probably failed my ting xie and biology practical test and I made Victor pissed out of a tiny harmless thing.

FUCK FUCK FUCK.

Laugh all you want, but my name is Josephine Victoria Goh and I'm not changing it.

Love bug is in the air! Everyone is falling in love like flies. Why, we might even hold a mass prison wedding together for all the afflicted inmates. Even Warden Chong is all gussied up today. She wore a blue top and her parting is 0.5 cm to the left of her usual. Prison Inspector Tan has some other Inspectors from other prisons to look at our ole Anderson Day Prison, and many wardens are off to lick their dinghy pongy boots.

I can't wait to finally complete my sentence in Anderson Day Prison. Our parole is shortened to 3 weeks in June. FUCK THE PRISON SYSTEM!!! I want to get my ass outta prison and hopefully, into a less fucked up prison. I hate being in jail, but aren't we all jailbirds?

I love Xi You Ji Hou Zuan. That Monkey God show. I think Sun Wu Kong is hot. And I'm really fucking glad Biyou is dead, because I'd much prefer Lianhua than Biyou. Fuck Ling'er, that lucky son of a bitch. I think Wu Tian is hot too, but I don't like his curtains of hair. I can go on watching Xi You Ji Hou Zuan forever. Yin Hui, that China scholar, says that the show is shit, and it is a disgrace to the broadcasting studio, which I think she said was the best in China. But I love the show, fucked up point of view or not.

I just don't like the way it mashes Buddhism and Taoism together.

Dad made me learn the ancient art of robe-folding so I can help him fold his Hai Qing buddhist robe. He said it would take at least an hour to learn, but obviously I've got fucking brains so I just followed the ancient art of kimono folding and folded the robe according to the sleeves and creases and folded it in 4 minutes. Then Dad said I cheated because I laid the robe on the ground and folded it and I was supposed to fold it standing up, so he unfolded the robe and folded it back again himself.

Yesterday was wicked. I got tipsy after half a bottle of hooch. My arm is still bruised from where Victor punched it. And it was really lucky that me and Dhaniah won the match 5-4 because we were broke. I decided that if we lost, I would pay for one ticket and not watch the movie. But we won so we managed to watch the movie. It was Anger Management starring Adam Sandler. I would very much prefer Johnny English, but Anger Management was funny too. Not my kind of funny though. I prefer watching the laugh-till-you-choke-on-your-tonsils movies.

I really want a kitten to raise! I want a little fat orange shorthair kitten that I can raise to a huge fat cat. I'm partial to grey and orange shorthair, but calico shorthair is fine too. But I don't like Persian or Siamese cats, because Persians shed too much hair and Siamese are too skinny. I don't like skinny things. However Mom hates things that move and are warm and furry. But what the fuck.

Who cares what she thinks anyway?

This time if I ever get a cat again, I'm going to mollycoddle it. Not going to kill it like I killed Mona, Vicky, Ningning, Kiki and Trampoline. But it wasn't my fault they died. Mom refused to let me bring them into the house and they ran away and got run over. She even refused to acknowledge them as my darlings. But now, if I get a cat, I'm going to put my foot down with a firm toe and keep it in my room.

So there.

I hate having my monthly affair. I feel so disgruntled and I feel my violent inclinations coming on. Well, I know I'm really into PMS because yesterday I just kept whacking Victor and Divian and Ching Lee. Why do PMS make me violent?

Went to East Coast Park today with Dhaniah. We skipped school and went across the nation just to stare at the beach and talk about things. I love being at the beach though. I wish I wasn't bleeding from one end of me today and I wish the weather wasn't so cold too, otherwise I would've put on my shorts and bikini top and pranced about the shore. But then everyone would see my pale chest and potbelly.

Somethings wrong.
Somethings not right.
I'm not swearing at all!
PMS does wonders to a person!
Fucking wonders!!

n i r v a n a . . . . . .

I'm not going to fucking apologise for not writing in a long time.

For dinner, ate a nourishing meal of fried fish fillet, coleslaw and pepper-doused chips from Long John Silver's. If Long John had a wife, would she be Long Joan? Ain't long johns spozed to be fucking pyjamas? Anyway after dinner me and Dhaniah wrote this song that sounded more nursery rhymish than punk. And it's titled "Black and Brown".

I am not going to sleep tonight, I will study for my Chinese Dictation and do my A-maths homework. I am going to make some coffee and prepare some painkillers later. After I complete my homework, it will probably be about 5 AM, so I might take a well-deserved nap until 6 AM. I might have to nap in class tomorrow, since I will be unable to nap afterschool. I am going out with Dhaniah and later practise how to hit a cock with a net.

I hate badminton.

My mother made me remove and discard my darling pillow stuffing. She has bought real pure cotton to stuff my pillow with, but she chickened out and I have to stuff my pillow case with two towels. I miss my synthetic cotton stuffing. Is it crying out alone, being shunned by plastic bottles and used sanitary pads? I feel so horrid! I am such a bad mother!

The fridge just died. It was rumbling and now it's silent.

Sisqo: You want me to stand against the wall and have balls flying at my face? Now I know how Christina Aguilera feels.

I don't know what to say about myself. I won't say I'm weird, since SO many people are claiming that they are weird, I feel normal. Fuck, I'm so pissed off with everybody. Espesh those W bitches in my life. Trying so hard to be 'individual' and 'different', they become poseurs. They try to talk cool and act like untouchables, then when they all get together, they act like brainless bimbos. No dignity at all. So eager to please the pricks so they can be popular.

Fuck the pussy Tuo Zhi. He's a HUGE HUGE HUGE poseur. So much of a poseur that he called the real breakers and skaters poseurs. He is so consumed with this Meoteorite Park or whatever fucking name show that he tries so hard to be one of the four long-haired humanoids featured. He even formed this group of fuckers called, what? A4!! WHAT THE FUCK. And he acts so superior to everyone else, like the A4 is the elite fraternity everyone looks up to (if you ask any Tomdickorharry, they wouldn't even know what the fuck is A4). I DON'T give a fuck. He's scared of me. I don't understand why the Funguses flirt with him so much when all he does is snub them and insult them. I don't like him and I make it known to all humanity.

Anyway enough of this disparaging talk about pricks and cunts. Went to get my trucks yesterday with the madfucks. Got a pair of shiny gold titan trucks. But if you ask me, all trucks look the same, except for the colour and price. Then went to explore different 7-11 stores to see if we could get any vodka. But Ching Lee was wearing his school uni, so despite flashing his HONG KONG IC, he wasn't successful. So we trekked to Carrefour and Victor and Divian bought three tonnes of bread and donuts. As I had already eaten my lunch with half the Funguses, I wasn't hungry. In fact, I was close to puking. But they made me take a donut, which I gobbled with teeny microscopic chomps. Then I couldn't eat anymore, so I gave Ching Lee a facial with the chocolate coating on it, then a vicious foot-to-shin combat. On the way home we made fuck faces at each other, and I demonstrated my Come Hither fuck face which somehow gave them the creeps. Ha.

When I got home, I was still so grossed out so I didn't eat dinner. There wasn't any dinner anyway. So I locked myself in my room and chained myself to my desk and....dozed off. Then I woke up and did some of my SARS homework. It was about 10 pm, and my stomach was doing a rain dance and my intestines a rap number. So I opened a can of tuna, doused it black pepper and ate it with leftover bread and a whole cucumber. When I was full, I went back to my room and did some English. Somehow, my feet led me to my bed, and I closed my eyes, and when I opened them, the lights were glaring and the clock said 5:21 AM.

Fuck.

So I went to school, got myself humiliated once or twice, humiliated others, bit off that fucker Tuo Zhi's head, came home, took a nap, watched Iron Chef (my fave!) and took another nap, and had dinner, watched Monkey King, showered, 20 minutes of homework and here I am typing this blog and printing my FUCKING CHINESE ONLINE HOMEWORK.

FUCK THIS WHOLE MISERABLE PLANET BECAUSE I WAS BORN A SHE-MALE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!