If it is the holidays, sleeping at 3 and waking up at 6 might sound very much ludicrous.

But a good brother is someone who wakes up no matter what the clock says and follows his dad to the airport to pick a sister who's fresh from lounging about at Changi Lounge for 7 hours since arriving from NZ.

Okay, that whole load up there was crap. I wanted to follow dad to the airport because i just wanna follow dad to the airport. Dont worry, i took some time out to question myself what the hell i was doing with only 3 hours of sleep and a pounding migraine. From what i could tell myself, it was much better than waking up at 8 and snoozing till 12 which i'm very much sick of it already. In the end, i still got to see scores of hot european women swaying out of the arrival hall, which in my shoes, would be well worth it.

Well, christmas to me has never been a BIG issue year after year. It might probably be because my family and i are rather staunch buddhists or maybe its just that we've been thought to save our money to save our asses one fine day ever since we were little gullible children. Although christmas was never in our calendars, i still find that most of the years, christmas has always been one of those special days where we get to go out and play or just a simple family gathering kinda thing. Considering dad still gets holidays during christmas and boxing day, we're always at plan during this time of the year. Bumming in Fraser's Hill this coming christmas is our plan by the way.

Being a little child, i was always afraid of Santa. I couldnt tell whether it was his beard or just that impregnated beer belly. I used to think santa had his little elves cleverly tucked behind one of his bushy eyebrows and one under his red hat, in position to hop and cling onto naughty children's faces like Gremlins. And i used to thank god my house didnt have one of those wide chimneys until one day i saw dad climbing onto the roof through a detachable asbestos tile on the ceiling. I nearly soiled myself there and then.

Maybe thats the reason santa never gave me anything and for some bloody reason, every little obesed santa in every freaking shopping mall would notice every kuchibrat but me. Yea, all but me! My hate for santa works both ways.

Enough of santa and his miniature elf minions. I sleep under the detachable asbestos tile every night and wouldn't want santa to read my blog and finally decide to throw in a holy grenade. Besides, his elves have never looked pleasant to me.

So to everyone out there who has a christmas tree and celebrates christmas, and also to everyone out there who DOESNT celebrate christmas, like me, and to everyone else who thinks christmas is edible, no matter if you're black or white or yellow or just plain silly, I bid you all a Merry Christmas and a erm, memorable holiday.

And to santa dear, i've still not recieved any santarinas and i still think you need a treadmill for yourself. You know i never really liked you. :)

Jinny