I cannot believe. That my mother is going to Indonesia for the holidays. Without me. I mean. Indonesia isn't exactly the place I would want to go for a holiday, and its not even a holiday. My mum's taking my grandmother - the one that I like - back to Jakarta to visit the sister before my grandma loses her memory. My grandmother has officially lost her ability to write. She used to write to my mum every month, but now her letters are incoherent and senseless: "Dear Sue. Buy take 3pm Panadol cake. Raining I for. Love. Mum"

It breaks my heart to read that particular letter, because I LOVE my Indonesian grandmother. She used to send us parcels of English treats that can't be found in Singapore, as well as these nightgowns - as hedious as they may be - to me which I always wear every night when she visits and she lights up. I liked hearing her read me stories to sleep and giving her lottery ticket numbers that she got at "the store near the tube(train)". Once when she came here, she got lost at the market and ended up walking around the Serangoon North Ave 1 for 3 hours. And we live at Avenue 4 - just 20 minutes away. And my mother and I seriously contemplated calling the police, because we were unable to fathom why my grandmother didn't call us on the handphone that my mother gave her before she left the house. Plus, there's this one particular conversation my mum and grandma had that totally stuck with me:

Mum: " Mee (short for Mummy), you've been coughing for quite a while huh?
Grandma: "Yeah. Think the food here is too spicy!"
Mum: "Are you having a flu? Do you feel giddy, or nauseous?
Grandma: "No."

(then leans in subtly)

Grandma :"But I'm really late."

My grandma is the best. I think my mother wet her pants laughing and was bent on calling Drew Carey to have that conversation featured on "Who's Line Is It Anyway" - that her menopausal mother was knocked up.

My grandmother's really a strong woman. Growing up in war torn Singapore in the 50s and 60s, leaving my Granddad who cheated on her, flying back to Singapore and raising her 2 babies alone in Singapore with 2 jobs. And now her back and bone will be lost to what I suspect to be ALzheimer's. So now she wants to visit her home before she might be too old to fly, and my mother will be going with her in case she forgets what flight she's on or where her passport is or what her name is. And she's leaving without me.

I mean seriously this is complete suicide. This means my DAD is in charge of all of us and bossing us around during the holidays. Last year when my mum was away for a day visiting her friends, his stupid traditional cheena relatives cames and he started bossing us around, telling us what to to, and how to put the cups, how to pour the stupid tea, where to put the biscuits. Like hello. He didn't even know where the stupid plates and cups are. Let alone turning on the microwave and the DVD player.

How can my mother do this to me?!?!?!?!?!?!? She's going to need to prepare funeral arrangements for her family when she gets back bcause I might just stab my sorry flaccid body and rot and decompose and my useless siblings won't even bother to clean the mess up. My dad would just look down at my body and hurl angry words and eventually walk away and call 911, to which by the time my heart might have stopped. My dog wouldn't even know what to do.

I've watched countless selfless animals on Animal Planet whose owners met with accidents at home, like slipping on that puddle of water and cracking their cranium, or drowning in their bathtubs and their dog or cat would howl or meow at the window for help until the neighbour would come to try and shut them up and find their neighbours' flaccid bodies on the ground. My dog? Yeah my dog stared then walked away to his bed when I slammed my head against the kitchen cabinet and sprawled on the floor for 5 minutes, whining and moaning in pain. My dog can be such a failure.

That's not the point. The point is. My dad is, what my mum calls "stuck up" She says its because he think he's all that because he went to Raffles Institution and has suffered a delusion of grandiosity and superiority from the years of high end academic drilling. Plus, my mum says he can be a pig. Which is somewhat true. He tried to teach me a lesson in swimming by attempting to drown me (in a "friendly harmless way - or so he says) in a public pool, and called me names that may have attributed to my disordered eating phase and low self esteem and distorted body image.

I can't be here with him for the festivities! He makes me talk to his cheena relatives who think I'm stupid because I'm not full Chinese. Apparently they think my siblings and I are "unclean" because their Chinese blood has been tainted when my father married into a Eurasian heritage.

Whatever. I'm part English. English people are posh because whatever they say, they sound like Shakspeare. I'm part Indonesian. I've naturally wavy hair and the whole bunch of you have fake fake fake unnatural wavy hair. Suck on that. Half bloods are cool. Harry Potter is half blood and he saves the world from Voldermort's domination and his forces of evil.

Maybe they've suffered radiation poisoning from the radioactive waves from the perming machine that have cooked their brains to bits. If not, why are they acting like a complete Malfoy?

PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE let me be able to bring Bobby over to my granddad (the Chinese one)'s house so at least I can amuse myself and play with my sweet little pet who unwittingly hates my relatives too because they chase him around with the leash and when they manage to hook the leash onto him, they walk around the house, holding the leash and unrelenlessly tugging at him when he doesn't want to move along with them. This completly makes my mother, sister and I mad. How dare they do that to my boogah? Bobby is known by several names, either "Bobsie", "Bobsie Wobsie", "Pudding", "Puds", "Monkey Butt", or "Boogah" (: Terms of endearment.

Aaaargh I'm dreading the festivities. I hate Chinese holidays. I want to go tour Europe and America.