<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38287712</id><updated>2011-04-22T04:43:07.829+08:00</updated><title type='text'>ariel t !</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://27435.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38287712/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://27435.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><link rel='next' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38287712/posts/default?start-index=101&amp;max-results=100'/><author><name>pastelstargirl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03752400369575078219</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>151</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38287712.post-8369088337941897769</id><published>2007-11-09T00:10:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-11-09T00:16:08.388+08:00</updated><title type='text'>The bed is full of memories...</title><content type='html'>&lt;em&gt;If you think you're getting away&lt;br /&gt;I will prove you wrong&lt;br /&gt;I'll take you all the way&lt;br /&gt;Boy, &lt;u&gt;just come along&lt;/u&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hear me when I say&lt;br /&gt;Hey!&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;- Murder On the Dancefloor by Sophie Ellis-Bextor&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Time to say &lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Goodbye&lt;/span&gt;!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Relink or visit &lt;a href="http://27435.livejournal.com/"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;http://27435.livejournal.com&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/a&gt; :D&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/38287712-8369088337941897769?l=27435.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://27435.blogspot.com/feeds/8369088337941897769/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=38287712&amp;postID=8369088337941897769' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38287712/posts/default/8369088337941897769'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38287712/posts/default/8369088337941897769'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://27435.blogspot.com/2007/11/bed-is-full-of-memories.html' title='The bed is full of memories...'/><author><name>pastelstargirl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03752400369575078219</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38287712.post-6792219385372484539</id><published>2007-11-01T22:31:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-11-01T23:07:38.098+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Irony</title><content type='html'>&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5127886994965381922" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_hJeZsDi0Nw4/RynqDZ9BwyI/AAAAAAAAATQ/lU8Wbfljuhg/s200/gavel.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;[That's not a mallot or a stick. Haha, it's a &lt;em&gt;gavel&lt;/em&gt;]&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I don't understand - well I don't understand a lot of things, but I seek to find the answers to them - why every one is so quick to judge.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know I shouldn't be the one stating this question since I often judge people from my very first impressions of them. Well I have realised that it's important to get to know people first before coming to a conclusion about them. And, I have got to add, I'm saying this with lots of experience and honesty - cross my heart, no doubts about it.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;The thing is, we can never come to a conclusive conclusion about someone unless we are &lt;em&gt;that&lt;/em&gt; &lt;em&gt;someone&lt;/em&gt;. Even so, some people take their whole life times just to find out who they really are on the inside. So effectively, it's difficult to come to a conclusion about a person. We can only &lt;em&gt;learn&lt;/em&gt; about that person through that person's behaviour. That is what we call "judge". Though I personally think "judge" is much too serious a word to be used. Highly inappropriate. Hmmm... Its used too loosely. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I am not &lt;em&gt;disturbed&lt;/em&gt; by any incidents through the past week or perhaps even the past year.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Look at it this way - I can't really change what I speak at home (English &amp;amp; Canto) and try as I might to accomodate, things are not going my way. Of course I don't mind getting to know all of you better and I am perfectly fine if I have to accomodate all of you, but as I said, things are not going my way. I don't want to have any hostilities between us and hence I am maintaining my polite behaviour towards &lt;em&gt;everyone&lt;/em&gt;. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;My results aren't fantastic and I know a large majority of you are quick to judge and hence condescend, but "experience" tells me that I should just ignore what's happening. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;After all, we've got to &lt;em&gt;live and let live&lt;/em&gt;. There's nothing which I have to prove to anyone except myself.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I suppose that neatly sums up what I've been thinking these few days. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/38287712-6792219385372484539?l=27435.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://27435.blogspot.com/feeds/6792219385372484539/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=38287712&amp;postID=6792219385372484539' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38287712/posts/default/6792219385372484539'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38287712/posts/default/6792219385372484539'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://27435.blogspot.com/2007/11/irony.html' title='Irony'/><author><name>pastelstargirl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03752400369575078219</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp1.blogger.com/_hJeZsDi0Nw4/RynqDZ9BwyI/AAAAAAAAATQ/lU8Wbfljuhg/s72-c/gavel.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38287712.post-3838735250908673100</id><published>2007-11-01T20:50:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2007-11-01T20:52:14.909+08:00</updated><title type='text'>A mid-summer night's horror</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_hJeZsDi0Nw4/RynL7p9BwxI/AAAAAAAAATI/gYmp6ZjjUhk/s1600-h/Photo-0287.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5127853876472562450" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_hJeZsDi0Nw4/RynL7p9BwxI/AAAAAAAAATI/gYmp6ZjjUhk/s200/Photo-0287.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Tsk.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I have to do 2 chinese essays by tonight. What a bother. Thank goodness I've finished my Physics assignment already. I guess I shan't be sleeping tonight since I'd like to complete my 2 essays plus finish up 2 or 3 more cmaps.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Till tomorrow I guess. Haha.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/38287712-3838735250908673100?l=27435.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://27435.blogspot.com/feeds/3838735250908673100/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=38287712&amp;postID=3838735250908673100' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38287712/posts/default/3838735250908673100'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38287712/posts/default/3838735250908673100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://27435.blogspot.com/2007/11/mid-summer-nights-horror.html' title='A mid-summer night&apos;s horror'/><author><name>pastelstargirl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03752400369575078219</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp2.blogger.com/_hJeZsDi0Nw4/RynL7p9BwxI/AAAAAAAAATI/gYmp6ZjjUhk/s72-c/Photo-0287.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38287712.post-3703936813272070562</id><published>2007-10-27T21:27:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-10-28T16:44:00.598+08:00</updated><title type='text'>No penny for my thoughts...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_hJeZsDi0Nw4/RyNiCJ9BwwI/AAAAAAAAATA/2_9WyfxLAvw/s1600-h/Photo-0284.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5126048590048903938" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_hJeZsDi0Nw4/RyNiCJ9BwwI/AAAAAAAAATA/2_9WyfxLAvw/s200/Photo-0284.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;People often say that it's useless to study History because you can't really do much in life with History. It's not like Physics, which can help you gain admission into many university courses or jobs.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well but is it really so?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;People often ask me why I chose to study History instead of something more practical, say Geography (it's just an example). Besides liking History better, I realised that more importantly, History gives me a sense of humanity and teaches me how to empathise.&lt;br /&gt;You know, that's not a quality which everyone has or has the ability to display.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Some people just don't have it (even if they do study history).&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thinking about what I've done this school year, I realised what a doofus I have been. Throughout the year, I've never failed to think that things will work themselves out in the end. For much too long, I have been taking my grades for granted and realisations come much too late. Certainly, there are people who are naturally intelligent and need not study much in order to get good grades. But my circumstances work against me in that aspect and so, I've got to work hard. I made so many silly decisions this year and many regrettable ones as well. I suppose they accelerated my maturity in a way or another. Still, I AM a doofus.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here are my grades on display:&lt;br /&gt;Biomedical Science - 64 (B4)&lt;br /&gt;Chemistry - 66 (B3)&lt;br /&gt;CID - 86 (A1)&lt;br /&gt;HCL - 61 (B4)&lt;br /&gt;History - 73 (A2)&lt;br /&gt;Language Arts - 74 (A2) &lt;div&gt;-&gt; This completely embarrasses me. I speak English (and Canto) at home since young!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;Mathematics - 44 (E8)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;-&gt; This completely embarrasses my dad since he was a math pro at school during his days.&lt;br /&gt;Physics - 48 (D7)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Singapore Studies - 65 (B3)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;G.P.A = 2.6 &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;-&gt; To which my dad commented, "Chey! Just pass only!"&lt;br /&gt;-&gt; To which Peeko replied, "Okay already lah. Try harder!"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;-&gt; To which I continued eating my dinner.&lt;br /&gt;Overall Average = 64.6%&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, I can foresee that I shall have to be extremely hardworking in order to fulfill my goal/s next year. I suppose I shall work towards 7 As and 2 Bs. I would like to get into a Humanities programme, get a G.P.A of 3.5 and &lt;em&gt;fly away&lt;/em&gt; ;)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;There's no point in being sad, speaking of which I hardly brood over my results. Results will always be results.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/38287712-3703936813272070562?l=27435.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://27435.blogspot.com/feeds/3703936813272070562/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=38287712&amp;postID=3703936813272070562' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38287712/posts/default/3703936813272070562'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38287712/posts/default/3703936813272070562'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://27435.blogspot.com/2007/10/penny-for-my-thoughts.html' title='No penny for my thoughts...'/><author><name>pastelstargirl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03752400369575078219</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp2.blogger.com/_hJeZsDi0Nw4/RyNiCJ9BwwI/AAAAAAAAATA/2_9WyfxLAvw/s72-c/Photo-0284.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38287712.post-7200210715364456172</id><published>2007-10-25T21:49:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-10-25T22:16:24.607+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Peeko's Tales</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_hJeZsDi0Nw4/RyCfc59BwuI/AAAAAAAAASs/Nx9X1lLfbPw/s1600-h/Photo-0317.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5125271694889566946" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_hJeZsDi0Nw4/RyCfc59BwuI/AAAAAAAAASs/Nx9X1lLfbPw/s200/Photo-0317.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;I live a really boring life. I can guarantee you that my ma lives a much more interesting life than me. Her days are filled with plenty of mishaps &lt;em&gt;waiting&lt;/em&gt; to happen.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Before I begin, let us now refer to my mother or my ma, as Peeko.&lt;br /&gt;Why Peeko, you might ask due to your inquisitive nature.&lt;br /&gt;Well well, my ma, no, Peeko, likes to peek at me when I'm doing my work. Also, Peeko [in every sense of the word], glances at me furtively every second or so. AND, Peeko has BIONIC EARS. Damn it, she can repeat the conversation I had whispering to my friend on my handphone in my room when she's sitting outside...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So now, guess what happened today?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was using my computer, busy uploading songs into my ipod (yay I won it ;) when... PEEKO rushed into the room with handphone in hand, exclaiming out loud, "I CAN'T TYPE MY FRIEND'S NAME INTO MY HANDPHONE. WHY AH? HELP ME!".&lt;br /&gt;Being a kind person (okay, I'm not exactly very kind, it's more of a I'm-her-daughter-and-I-forgot-to-pretend-to-be-asleep-so-I-gotta-help-her-kind-of-thing), I said, rather irritably, "What?".&lt;br /&gt;After analysing her phone, I decided that her "problem" was nothing more than a case of bad english. Well, I mean her handphone's dictionary didn't have her friend's name so obviously it didn't appear.&lt;br /&gt;Being the old nooblet that Peeko is, Peeko gave an extremely confused look when I handed her back the phone and explained the cause of her concern.&lt;br /&gt;"What can I do?" Peeko asked. I told Peeko that she should try spelling out the word.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now... Guess what Peeko did???&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Peeko look gave me an uncertain look, then peered at her phone, and then - She did it!&lt;br /&gt;SHE BEGAN TO SPEAK TO HER PHONE AND SPELL OUT HER FRIEND'S NAME...&lt;br /&gt;"D-O-R..."&lt;br /&gt;"What are you doing? Why are you spelling your friend's name out loud?!" I swear at this point in time I was extremely exasperated with her. I felt like bursting into laughter cos she was being a complete doofus! [HAHA]&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, Peeko looked considerably confused and asked me what she should have done instead. I told her to type out the word and save it - finally the day was saved, thanks to me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Peeko is extremely silly.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/38287712-7200210715364456172?l=27435.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://27435.blogspot.com/feeds/7200210715364456172/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=38287712&amp;postID=7200210715364456172' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38287712/posts/default/7200210715364456172'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38287712/posts/default/7200210715364456172'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://27435.blogspot.com/2007/10/peekos-tales.html' title='Peeko&apos;s Tales'/><author><name>pastelstargirl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03752400369575078219</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp2.blogger.com/_hJeZsDi0Nw4/RyCfc59BwuI/AAAAAAAAASs/Nx9X1lLfbPw/s72-c/Photo-0317.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38287712.post-1664127175605751868</id><published>2007-10-21T22:04:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-10-21T22:41:16.411+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Kids These Days</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_hJeZsDi0Nw4/Rxtk9zU0-fI/AAAAAAAAASk/xQo1gPQY0MY/s1600-h/Photo-0285.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5123800013976435186" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_hJeZsDi0Nw4/Rxtk9zU0-fI/AAAAAAAAASk/xQo1gPQY0MY/s200/Photo-0285.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Kids these days sure seem to grow up fast. Well, I've got to make this clear - grow up fast &lt;em&gt;in their own world&lt;/em&gt; that's constantly under influences from the media and such.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To say that they grow up fast would mean that they mature at a young age. Which is true to a certain extent because many young people seem to be involved in relationships (which of course require a certain level of maturity altogether). Then again, you think about it and you realise that these young people hardly have a clue as to what they're doing. To your horror, okay to &lt;em&gt;MY&lt;/em&gt; horror, I realise that Hey! These kids don't know what's going on in the world. They don't read, they're not knowledgable, they're... &lt;em&gt;GASP&lt;/em&gt;. Bimbos &amp;amp; Himbos! Mind you, even my usually retarded ma agreed with me when I said that most teenagers don't know what's going on. And my still retarded ma reads the papers even though she is thoroughly capable of mixing countries up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pardon me, I am just being reflective. I do have my bimbotic moments as well, but that's rare, like really. And I'm just being Miss Smarty-Pantsy-Anal because I CANNOT STAND IT WHEN PEOPLE ARE SO IGNORANT ABOUT CURRENT AFFAIRS.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't know what teenagers nowadays are doing. I've been blog surfing and I've read a few blogs which seemed to have piqued my enthusiasm - that's why I'm actually staying up at 10:15pm typing this entry when I should be better off enjoying my beauty sleep which I so rightly deserve since I have so many pimples on my face and I have a long school day ahead of me tomorrow.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;[That's besides the point, and that sentence was extremely run-on]&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Moving onto what I was typing just so, after blog surfing, I realise that... Okay, I observed and concluded that many teenagers are turning into bimbos and himbos. &lt;em&gt;Not that they have the looks nor the goods of one.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's like the world revolves around them. It's shocking how they know about the latest trends yet have no clue whatsoever about what's happening around the world.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I bet what they do know is the cliched stereotypes which we have become so familiar with. Example: People in Africa are very poor. They are ALL poor and have NOTHING to eat, so we cannot waste our food.&lt;br /&gt;Which is true to a certain extent but hello, South Africa is a rich country (diamonds, DIAMONDS!). So, take that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In their beloved blogs, we read about their &lt;em&gt;oohing&lt;/em&gt; and &lt;em&gt;ahhings&lt;/em&gt; about skinny jeans; their rants about the boyfriend/girlfriend; their loves or about how emo they are; their classmates... The list just goes on. They seem to use lots of swear words and I'm damned right by saying that so many of them are emo kids. Lol, the way they write, it's like their lives are one huge melodramatic soap series. Oh gosh, &lt;em&gt;EMO&lt;/em&gt;! [In one of the blogs I came across, one of them wrote "to be happy" under a wishlist.]&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well well, won't deny I was once an emo kid but I realised that life's not that bad. It's pretty good. I mean the fact that they have access to a computer is good news indeed. The fact that they could actually rant about their food tasting horrible is proof that they're living perfectly well lives because the aforementioned people in Africa are, once again, poor and have nothing to eat. I'm simply grateful I discovered strank-y and I am absolutely thankful for having read that book.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wouldn't deny that my entries aren't exactly intelligent and that I'm nowhere near any standards. But I do feel a certain sense of responsibility to advocate the importance of reading the newspapers. Or at least, watch.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Come, let us engage ourselves in more worthwhile activities. Life has so much more to offer than just skinny jeans or "baby".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Kids these days... Really!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/38287712-1664127175605751868?l=27435.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://27435.blogspot.com/feeds/1664127175605751868/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=38287712&amp;postID=1664127175605751868' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38287712/posts/default/1664127175605751868'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38287712/posts/default/1664127175605751868'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://27435.blogspot.com/2007/10/kids-these-days.html' title='Kids These Days'/><author><name>pastelstargirl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03752400369575078219</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp0.blogger.com/_hJeZsDi0Nw4/Rxtk9zU0-fI/AAAAAAAAASk/xQo1gPQY0MY/s72-c/Photo-0285.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38287712.post-3355823290143419047</id><published>2007-10-21T13:25:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-10-21T13:48:21.570+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Red Cheeks</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_hJeZsDi0Nw4/Rxrm0TU0-eI/AAAAAAAAASc/ssW-RYq5McM/s1600-h/Photo-0310.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5123661312302578146" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_hJeZsDi0Nw4/Rxrm0TU0-eI/AAAAAAAAASc/ssW-RYq5McM/s200/Photo-0310.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Went to Sentosa with some people from 3A.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Okay, I didn't wanna go at first cos I'd rather sleep in.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Still, I woke up at about 8am and I called Grace for about 4 times. &lt;em&gt;Someone&lt;/em&gt; was still sleeping like a &lt;em&gt;pig&lt;/em&gt; until her ma picked up her house phone... I think I'd have to start calling her like 30 minutes before the time she's supposed to wake up. [DAMN YOU]&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyhow, it threatened to rain when we got there but it turned real sunny later. We played some ball games with the $3.90 ball that Grace bought. I think we spent a lot of time in the water playing ball games. I've got to admit it was quite fun. I spent some time lying on the sand, which made me happy. [I'm a very easily contented girl &lt;em&gt;okayyy&lt;/em&gt;]&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Except that some people were really being a huge disgrace. And some retarded people forgot to bring their towel and extra clothes AND STILL WANTED TO BATHE...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I turned really red (rather, slightly burnt) and now I'm slighter darker than I used to be. I'm not supposed to let my parents know I went to Sentosa cos they'd kick up a fuss. My ma didn't find out but my dad suspected that I spent some time in the sun.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;During lunch today, ma said, "Wah, now your face got rosy cheeks. Very nice. Makes you look healthy. Suddenly got rosy cheeks". She proceeded to look at me while I was uncomfortably eating my porridge. Then my dad said, "she went out in the sun, that's why". After my dad said that, I didn't say anything. My ma continued to watch me while she ate and completely thought nothing of my dad's words. Following which, my dad left the table and my ma said, "Did any of your friends say that you've got rosy cheeks now? So nice". I ignored her and I was thinking how my ma could be such a silly woman.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Though I've got to agree with her that my rosy cheeks are nice :P&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/38287712-3355823290143419047?l=27435.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://27435.blogspot.com/feeds/3355823290143419047/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=38287712&amp;postID=3355823290143419047' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38287712/posts/default/3355823290143419047'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38287712/posts/default/3355823290143419047'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://27435.blogspot.com/2007/10/red-cheeks.html' title='Red Cheeks'/><author><name>pastelstargirl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03752400369575078219</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp1.blogger.com/_hJeZsDi0Nw4/Rxrm0TU0-eI/AAAAAAAAASc/ssW-RYq5McM/s72-c/Photo-0310.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38287712.post-3772268166308496543</id><published>2007-10-19T10:27:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-10-19T10:39:01.474+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Retarded Mothers</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_hJeZsDi0Nw4/RxgXDzU0-ZI/AAAAAAAAAR0/S1gMD1mLH24/s1600-h/DSCN0780.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5122869930218551698" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_hJeZsDi0Nw4/RxgXDzU0-ZI/AAAAAAAAAR0/S1gMD1mLH24/s200/DSCN0780.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; LOL. I think my MA looks retarded here. &lt;em&gt;Whatever&lt;/em&gt;. HAHAHA.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, this is how our phone conversation went a few days ago...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ma: Got back any results? Fail anything?&lt;br /&gt;Me: &lt;strong&gt;I failed maths.&lt;/strong&gt; I told you already.&lt;br /&gt;Ma: *giggles* Maths ah? Fail ah? *giggles*&lt;br /&gt;Me: Ya, why are you laughing?&lt;br /&gt;Ma: *ignores question and continues to giggle* You're the only who failed in class? *giggles somemore*&lt;br /&gt;Me: Yes.&lt;br /&gt;Ma: *giggles* &lt;strong&gt;SO CUTE!&lt;/strong&gt; *giggles* Only one who failed in class. *giggles somemore*&lt;br /&gt;Me: *&lt;em&gt;exasperated&lt;/em&gt;* What's so cute about that?!&lt;br /&gt;Ma: *giggles again* &lt;strong&gt;No lah, just very cute. Failed maths.&lt;/strong&gt; *giggles*&lt;br /&gt;Me: *&lt;em&gt;annoyed&lt;/em&gt;* Okay, bye.&lt;br /&gt;Ma: *giggles* Byebye.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/38287712-3772268166308496543?l=27435.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://27435.blogspot.com/feeds/3772268166308496543/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=38287712&amp;postID=3772268166308496543' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38287712/posts/default/3772268166308496543'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38287712/posts/default/3772268166308496543'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://27435.blogspot.com/2007/10/retarded-mothers.html' title='Retarded Mothers'/><author><name>pastelstargirl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03752400369575078219</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp1.blogger.com/_hJeZsDi0Nw4/RxgXDzU0-ZI/AAAAAAAAAR0/S1gMD1mLH24/s72-c/DSCN0780.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38287712.post-7834348115981897770</id><published>2007-10-18T20:45:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-10-18T20:56:48.863+08:00</updated><title type='text'>My Dog Growls When I Blow at Her</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_hJeZsDi0Nw4/RxdXrjU0-YI/AAAAAAAAARs/SClZ0SIIpQk/s1600-h/DSC00289.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5122659506885818754" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_hJeZsDi0Nw4/RxdXrjU0-YI/AAAAAAAAARs/SClZ0SIIpQk/s200/DSC00289.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Amber growls when I blow at her. I think it's so cute that I just wanna disturb her repeatedly.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I feel happy - I've been getting my beauty sleep! Feels great. My complexion is improving already! Sleep is really essential for good, clear skin. For 3 damned years, I've been plagued with evil red dots or lumps all over my face. Can't stand it.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;HOW WOULD YOU FEEL WHEN YOU SEE YOUR FACE FILLED WITH PIMPLES AND SCARS, WHILE ALL OF YOUR FRIENDS HAVE NICE CLEAR SKIN? HMM? FOR 3 YEARS YOU'RE TORTURED BY ANGRY LITTLE RED MEN!?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;For those of you who have no idea why I'm so agitated about my skin, I guess you just won't ever understand the pain of having acne. It's useless saying that it'll be gone someday because we all live for the moment. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;People (especially those skincare promoters in the beauty stores) always naturally assume that I don't take care of my skin and that I often sleep without washing my face. Fact is, I keep it as clean as I can - washing it twice a day and cleaning it with toner while applying pimple cream before I sleep. Hello, I do that religiously every day and every night. Much better than people who don't wash their face with facial foams at all right?!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I just can't do anything since these little communists like my face so much. PFF.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/38287712-7834348115981897770?l=27435.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://27435.blogspot.com/feeds/7834348115981897770/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=38287712&amp;postID=7834348115981897770' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38287712/posts/default/7834348115981897770'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38287712/posts/default/7834348115981897770'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://27435.blogspot.com/2007/10/my-dog-growls-when-i-blow-at-her.html' title='My Dog Growls When I Blow at Her'/><author><name>pastelstargirl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03752400369575078219</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp3.blogger.com/_hJeZsDi0Nw4/RxdXrjU0-YI/AAAAAAAAARs/SClZ0SIIpQk/s72-c/DSC00289.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38287712.post-7035825451519223657</id><published>2007-10-15T22:52:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-10-15T23:11:20.666+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Do Not Press the Panic Button</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_hJeZsDi0Nw4/RxOBhDU0-XI/AAAAAAAAARk/Y8-H0KacSxU/s1600-h/DSCN0323.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5121579606078716274" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_hJeZsDi0Nw4/RxOBhDU0-XI/AAAAAAAAARk/Y8-H0KacSxU/s200/DSCN0323.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;[Irrelevant photo I know. I just couldn't resist not posting this dumb photo. Why? 'Cos I need to remind all of you that I'm a retarded girl.]&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;My panic button just went on and it keeps &lt;em&gt;ringing&lt;/em&gt; I tell you.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;DAMN IT. I'm seriously freeeeaking out.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;The dumb cmap's taking a horrendous time to load and damn it, I need to submit my cmap assignment and it's already 10:55pm when I'm supposed to finish it by 11:59pm tonight.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;DAMN IT.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;URGH!&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Okay, so while I'm waiting&lt;em&gt; PATIENTLY&lt;/em&gt; for the damned thing to be done (mind you, I've waited for &lt;strong&gt;an hour&lt;/strong&gt; and it's only &lt;strong&gt;67% done&lt;/strong&gt;), I hear Rihanna asking me to &lt;em&gt;shut up and drive&lt;/em&gt;. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Okay, I lied. Wasn't 1 hour. Whatever. Blame my mum for my tendency to exaggerate sometimes. Well I got my most un-necessary genes from her. Pfffffffft.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Well, why don't you DRIVE MY DAMNED COM QUICKLY.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;URGH. URGH!&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;OKAY. RELAX. I can feel the fingers slowly releasing my button already. On a lighter note, I'm gonna get back my beloved FoOF tomorrow and whee comes my picture. Okay, I've got loads of stuff to be glad about (not my results though). Okay, I gotta stay cool. 77%.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Good.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/38287712-7035825451519223657?l=27435.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://27435.blogspot.com/feeds/7035825451519223657/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=38287712&amp;postID=7035825451519223657' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38287712/posts/default/7035825451519223657'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38287712/posts/default/7035825451519223657'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://27435.blogspot.com/2007/10/do-not-press-panic-button.html' title='Do Not Press the Panic Button'/><author><name>pastelstargirl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03752400369575078219</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp1.blogger.com/_hJeZsDi0Nw4/RxOBhDU0-XI/AAAAAAAAARk/Y8-H0KacSxU/s72-c/DSCN0323.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38287712.post-2348028466221424591</id><published>2007-10-07T22:40:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-10-07T22:55:21.525+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Weighty Issues</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_hJeZsDi0Nw4/RwjwrzU0-WI/AAAAAAAAARc/0EH6pU4mhqg/s1600-h/bath+scale.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5118605611809175906" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_hJeZsDi0Nw4/RwjwrzU0-WI/AAAAAAAAARc/0EH6pU4mhqg/s200/bath+scale.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;I say I weigh 54kg. And I'm not joking. For a girl standing at 1.62m, 54kg is normal - NOT. Unless you call normal having a belly that's about a month preggers.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well well, here's Ariel saying "Byebye" to Tummy. You're out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, our youth is supposedly the best times of our life. Obviously I wanna look youthful and vibrant during this wonderful time of giggles, shopping and just girly girl stuff. I AM SO NOT GONNA LET MY DAMNED TUMMY GET HOLD OF MY FASHION CHOICES.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hell, no.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/38287712-2348028466221424591?l=27435.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://27435.blogspot.com/feeds/2348028466221424591/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=38287712&amp;postID=2348028466221424591' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38287712/posts/default/2348028466221424591'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38287712/posts/default/2348028466221424591'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://27435.blogspot.com/2007/10/weighty-issues.html' title='Weighty Issues'/><author><name>pastelstargirl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03752400369575078219</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp1.blogger.com/_hJeZsDi0Nw4/RwjwrzU0-WI/AAAAAAAAARc/0EH6pU4mhqg/s72-c/bath+scale.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38287712.post-798920510193934620</id><published>2007-10-06T21:47:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-10-06T22:17:32.886+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Don't Look At Me!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_hJeZsDi0Nw4/RweX7jU0-VI/AAAAAAAAARU/lyfU9ORn4VU/s1600-h/MICHAEL.gif"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5118226550880532818" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_hJeZsDi0Nw4/RweX7jU0-VI/AAAAAAAAARU/lyfU9ORn4VU/s200/MICHAEL.gif" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Don't you think he screams "Don't Look At Me", or I'll shoot?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Hoohoo. Love the picture!  *hearts*&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Anyway, dickhead and I are gonna LOOK at him tomorrow and there's no way he could shoot. Yay ;)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/38287712-798920510193934620?l=27435.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://27435.blogspot.com/feeds/798920510193934620/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=38287712&amp;postID=798920510193934620' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38287712/posts/default/798920510193934620'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38287712/posts/default/798920510193934620'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://27435.blogspot.com/2007/10/dont-look-at-me.html' title='Don&apos;t Look At Me!'/><author><name>pastelstargirl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03752400369575078219</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp3.blogger.com/_hJeZsDi0Nw4/RweX7jU0-VI/AAAAAAAAARU/lyfU9ORn4VU/s72-c/MICHAEL.gif' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38287712.post-6089142393363215495</id><published>2007-10-06T14:05:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-10-06T21:48:47.677+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Tummy Talks</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_hJeZsDi0Nw4/Rwcn3jU0-UI/AAAAAAAAARM/yemQVVRNUXM/s1600-h/tummytube.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5118103336858745154" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_hJeZsDi0Nw4/Rwcn3jU0-UI/AAAAAAAAARM/yemQVVRNUXM/s200/tummytube.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Hi! I'm Ariel's Tummy. Not just any other tummy, but Tummy! With a T.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyhow, I felt greatly disappointed when Ariel decided that she didn't want a cute, lovable and round little pot-belly tummy like me, Tummy! Apparently, it was no thanks to that stupid article on "Bigger waists = Higher Risk of Heart Disease" which she read during her CID 3 Paper [What the hell's CID anyway, for aspiring policewomen or policemen? Well that sure explains it - policewomen and policemen have no need for tummies like me. We are the products of over-indulgence :]&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That article mentioned that my flatter cousins are better than large ones like me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hmppf. What do &lt;em&gt;they&lt;/em&gt; know? As far as I'm concerned, Ariel likes pinching the many layers of me :D&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then again, not anymore.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well well, since there's nothing I can do AGAINST my owner, I suppose I should just relish the few moments left with her.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Parting is such &lt;em&gt;sorrow&lt;/em&gt;...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/38287712-6089142393363215495?l=27435.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://27435.blogspot.com/feeds/6089142393363215495/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=38287712&amp;postID=6089142393363215495' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38287712/posts/default/6089142393363215495'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38287712/posts/default/6089142393363215495'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://27435.blogspot.com/2007/10/tummy-talks.html' title='Tummy Talks'/><author><name>pastelstargirl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03752400369575078219</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp3.blogger.com/_hJeZsDi0Nw4/Rwcn3jU0-UI/AAAAAAAAARM/yemQVVRNUXM/s72-c/tummytube.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38287712.post-2949579264568820825</id><published>2007-09-30T19:11:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-09-30T19:17:58.824+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Teeheehee ;)</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_hJeZsDi0Nw4/Rv-FlDU0-TI/AAAAAAAAARE/3yNgJNZqhXU/s1600-h/Photo-0084.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5115954573310490930" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_hJeZsDi0Nw4/Rv-FlDU0-TI/AAAAAAAAARE/3yNgJNZqhXU/s200/Photo-0084.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Tee Hee Hee ;)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I can't wait for the exams to be over. Dickhead will come to my house on Friday and we'll watch &lt;strong&gt;Flags of Our Fathers&lt;/strong&gt; together! Whee! And we can go crazy over the movie... Tee Hee Hee! After that, we'll meet EL for lunch/dinner at Din Tai Fung.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/38287712-2949579264568820825?l=27435.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://27435.blogspot.com/feeds/2949579264568820825/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=38287712&amp;postID=2949579264568820825' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38287712/posts/default/2949579264568820825'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38287712/posts/default/2949579264568820825'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://27435.blogspot.com/2007/09/teeheehee.html' title='Teeheehee ;)'/><author><name>pastelstargirl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03752400369575078219</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp1.blogger.com/_hJeZsDi0Nw4/Rv-FlDU0-TI/AAAAAAAAARE/3yNgJNZqhXU/s72-c/Photo-0084.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38287712.post-6089855823294513171</id><published>2007-09-25T18:56:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-10-06T21:29:30.057+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Matching Pipes</title><content type='html'>Click &lt;a href="http://www.podcast.sg/specials/mocca/01_Mocca_Bodybuilder.mp4"&gt;here&lt;/a&gt; to buy pipes ;)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hi! Im selling my house.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You like it? Its clean and green with three huge rooms.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The bedroom's over there.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The kitchen's over there.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is my beautiful bathroom. Check out my matching pipes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Want to see more? Call this number:63503373&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/38287712-6089855823294513171?l=27435.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://27435.blogspot.com/feeds/6089855823294513171/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=38287712&amp;postID=6089855823294513171' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38287712/posts/default/6089855823294513171'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38287712/posts/default/6089855823294513171'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://27435.blogspot.com/2007/09/matching-pipes.html' title='Matching Pipes'/><author><name>pastelstargirl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03752400369575078219</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38287712.post-6525040165253851318</id><published>2007-09-22T08:56:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-09-22T09:06:17.336+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Grey Sky Morning</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_hJeZsDi0Nw4/RvRpfJlMKNI/AAAAAAAAAQ8/fHxwK8MYS7g/s1600-h/wm19.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5112827460841122002" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_hJeZsDi0Nw4/RvRpfJlMKNI/AAAAAAAAAQ8/fHxwK8MYS7g/s200/wm19.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Today's a grey sky morning. But not me. Hehe.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I feel quite guilty because everyone (at this point of time - it's 9am by the way) is either sleeping or STUDYING. Hurhur.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;While I'm sitting in front of my computer and smiling. Lol. Will study later of course.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Take a look at that photo will you? Look at the &lt;em&gt;flasher&lt;/em&gt; behind me, in her younger days when she didn't start &lt;em&gt;flashing full-time&lt;/em&gt; yet... Those were &lt;em&gt;really&lt;/em&gt; the days...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/38287712-6525040165253851318?l=27435.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://27435.blogspot.com/feeds/6525040165253851318/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=38287712&amp;postID=6525040165253851318' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38287712/posts/default/6525040165253851318'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38287712/posts/default/6525040165253851318'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://27435.blogspot.com/2007/09/grey-sky-morning.html' title='Grey Sky Morning'/><author><name>pastelstargirl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03752400369575078219</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp2.blogger.com/_hJeZsDi0Nw4/RvRpfJlMKNI/AAAAAAAAAQ8/fHxwK8MYS7g/s72-c/wm19.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38287712.post-6705702535375015613</id><published>2007-09-20T20:53:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-09-20T21:13:10.800+08:00</updated><title type='text'>A Business Deal... Clinched!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_hJeZsDi0Nw4/RvJuKDz4XvI/AAAAAAAAAQ0/110nGBxhUww/s1600-h/Toilet.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5112269646119591666" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_hJeZsDi0Nw4/RvJuKDz4XvI/AAAAAAAAAQ0/110nGBxhUww/s200/Toilet.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Today, I had the most important meeting of the week. It went something like this...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me: Hi, good afternoon/evening. It's a fantastic day, wouldn't you agree? Now regarding my proposal, what do you think of it?&lt;br /&gt;Business partner: I've read through your proposal and I think we seem to be having some &lt;em&gt;communication problems&lt;/em&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;Me: Oh dear, that's not too good. What can I do to make our deal successful?&lt;br /&gt;Business partner: I would suggest somewhere quiet, peaceful, preferably air-conditioned and most of all, &lt;em&gt;CLEAN&lt;/em&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;Me: Do you have any place in mind? Hmm wait, I think a shopping centre, or a hotel, or even my home would do fine :)&lt;br /&gt;Business partner: Alright, let's go have our meeting at one of these places then. We must go to the &lt;em&gt;nearest&lt;/em&gt; place which you suggested. I cannot &lt;em&gt;bear&lt;/em&gt; with it anymore, and I need to be &lt;em&gt;comfortable&lt;/em&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We reach the venue. We start our discussions. Me and my business partner have a few disagreements here and there but everything turned out okay eventually.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In the end, my business partner thought the meeting was absolutely successful and so I managed to clinch a business deal (yet again!). We solved our &lt;em&gt;communication problems&lt;/em&gt; smoothly and everything was &lt;em&gt;excreted out&lt;/em&gt; well enough for my partner to be satisfied. My business partner was happy and declared that the venue was well chosen and of course, &lt;em&gt;CLEAN&lt;/em&gt;. Whee!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm a successful business person and even dickhead would be proud of me. Haha :D&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/38287712-6705702535375015613?l=27435.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://27435.blogspot.com/feeds/6705702535375015613/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=38287712&amp;postID=6705702535375015613' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38287712/posts/default/6705702535375015613'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38287712/posts/default/6705702535375015613'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://27435.blogspot.com/2007/09/business-deal-clinched.html' title='A Business Deal... Clinched!'/><author><name>pastelstargirl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03752400369575078219</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp0.blogger.com/_hJeZsDi0Nw4/RvJuKDz4XvI/AAAAAAAAAQ0/110nGBxhUww/s72-c/Toilet.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38287712.post-1227966787122836444</id><published>2007-09-18T20:08:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-09-18T21:02:27.964+08:00</updated><title type='text'>I Wanna Hold Your Hand</title><content type='html'>&lt;u&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_hJeZsDi0Nw4/Ru_LAIhRdaI/AAAAAAAAAQs/Nm1wYH6gyWA/s1600-h/Hold+Your+Hand.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5111527305236280738" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_hJeZsDi0Nw4/Ru_LAIhRdaI/AAAAAAAAAQs/Nm1wYH6gyWA/s200/Hold+Your+Hand.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;u&gt;Scene 1&lt;/u&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A really cute guy: Let me see your hand.&lt;br /&gt;You: Why?&lt;br /&gt;Cute guy: Just let me take a look.&lt;br /&gt;*You give your hand and throw him a look of suspicion. You're thinking - &lt;em&gt;just what is this guy up to&lt;/em&gt;?*&lt;br /&gt;Cute guy: Okay, now (takes your hand into his and holds it) there's this duck &lt;em&gt;here&lt;/em&gt; (brings your hand forward) and a lake &lt;em&gt;here&lt;/em&gt; (extends your hand even more) and how's the duck going to cross it?&lt;br /&gt;*Your heart &lt;em&gt;skips&lt;/em&gt; a beat*&lt;br /&gt;You: Hmm (takes a wild guess and moves hands in an awkward manner), I don't know.&lt;br /&gt;*&lt;em&gt;OMG. Did _________ (insert cute guy's name) just hold my hand?! OMG?!&lt;/em&gt;*&lt;br /&gt;Cute guy: Want the answer?&lt;br /&gt;You: Yeah, okay.&lt;br /&gt;*&lt;em&gt;OMG. He's holding my hand! And what's the damned answer, really!&lt;/em&gt;*&lt;br /&gt;Cute guy: Oh, actually I don't know the answer as well. I just wanted to hold your hand.&lt;br /&gt;You: *&lt;em&gt;OMG! OMG! OMG!*&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The cute guy's now replaced by a hideous looking fellow.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;u&gt;Scene 2&lt;/u&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A hideous guy: Let me see your hand.&lt;br /&gt;You: Why?&lt;br /&gt;*&lt;em&gt;I hope nothing icky's gonna happen to me. ________&lt;/em&gt; (insert Hideous guy's name)&lt;em&gt; is quite, erm...*&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hideous guy: Just let me take a look.&lt;br /&gt;*He grins like an idiot*&lt;br /&gt;*You give your hand and throw him a look of suspicion. You're thinking - &lt;em&gt;just what is this weirdo up to&lt;/em&gt;?!*&lt;br /&gt;Hideous guy: Okay, now (takes your hand into his and holds it) there's this duck &lt;em&gt;here&lt;/em&gt; (brings your hand forward) and a lake &lt;em&gt;here&lt;/em&gt; (extends your hand even more) and how's the duck going to cross it?&lt;br /&gt;*&lt;em&gt;OMG. Did he just hold my hand? EWW! Now I've gotta wash it real clean later&lt;/em&gt;.*&lt;br /&gt;You: Hmm (takes a wild guess and moves hands in an awkward manner), I don't know.&lt;br /&gt;*&lt;em&gt;I hope he can let go of my hand right now and tell me the answer.............&lt;/em&gt;*&lt;br /&gt;Hideous guy: Want the answer?&lt;br /&gt;You: Yeah, okay.&lt;br /&gt;*&lt;em&gt;OMG. Just tell me the answer and let go of my hand. I'm impure now because you held my hand! URGH.&lt;/em&gt;*&lt;br /&gt;Hideous guy: Oh, actually I don't know the answer as well. I just wanted to hold your hand.&lt;br /&gt;You: *You're speechless&lt;em&gt;.......... OMG... EWW!!!!!&lt;/em&gt;*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Usually, it's not &lt;em&gt;what&lt;/em&gt; that is being said or done, but rather &lt;em&gt;who&lt;/em&gt; says it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Looks don't matter? It does, to a certain extent and unless we're saints, we can't say for sure that looks don't matter.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well don't get me wrong - I don't think ugly people should commit suicide or wallow in self-pity. Everyone has their own perception of beauty, so there will be someone who takes a liking to those people whom we find undesirable. Anyway, with the world being so advanced and all, everyone and anyone can give themselves a makeover.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well well, I'm not saying that we should judge others based on the way they look. Given our intelligence, we're not as dumb or superficial as to judge our pals by the way they look, unless we're called Paris Hilton.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's just that there's just nothing such as "looks don't matter"; we all know that it does and we better stop acting the saint and denying that. Haha, because deep down inside us, we know it does (even if we REFUSE to acknowledge that ;) I bet most girls fantasize about ending up with some cute or hot guy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Everyone has the right to choose. So there, this isn't about being shallow or superficial.&lt;br /&gt;[You choose someone based on their qualities as well what! Unless you're some bimbo or himbo]&lt;br /&gt;Unfortunately, it's just -to put it euphemistically, as some would say- part of &lt;em&gt;nature&lt;/em&gt; and of course,&lt;em&gt; natural selection&lt;/em&gt;. Can't help it, can't stop it but don't condemn it.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/38287712-1227966787122836444?l=27435.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://27435.blogspot.com/feeds/1227966787122836444/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=38287712&amp;postID=1227966787122836444' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38287712/posts/default/1227966787122836444'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38287712/posts/default/1227966787122836444'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://27435.blogspot.com/2007/09/i-wanna-hold-your-hand.html' title='I Wanna Hold Your Hand'/><author><name>pastelstargirl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03752400369575078219</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp2.blogger.com/_hJeZsDi0Nw4/Ru_LAIhRdaI/AAAAAAAAAQs/Nm1wYH6gyWA/s72-c/Hold+Your+Hand.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38287712.post-1881101798669954531</id><published>2007-09-16T21:23:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2007-09-16T21:30:30.093+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Water</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_hJeZsDi0Nw4/Ru0uYIhRdZI/AAAAAAAAAQk/DyO4862UfSs/s1600-h/glass_of_water.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5110792144274158994" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_hJeZsDi0Nw4/Ru0uYIhRdZI/AAAAAAAAAQk/DyO4862UfSs/s200/glass_of_water.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Everyone thinks that I drink lots of water. Well that's true, but only in school. I hardly ever drink water at home nowadays. Usually I'm just cooped up in my own room without a single glass of water. When I finally do, I jug a few glasses down and I go back into my room. Or, my mum will bring a glass of water for me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And I keep peeing! In school, at home, it doesn't matter! I keep peeing. And I hate flushing the toilets I tell you. Such a waste of water. I flush school toilets though, only because it's not my own toilet.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I suppose if we all don't flush toilets after we pee, we could save a little money (and a considerable amount of water for me, since I pee very often)...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yes, that's my own warped theory there. Anyhow, if you do come to house, it's okay if you don't flush. If I used the toilet before you (which I probably did and you probably won't know), it's very likely I didn't flush either, and you won't know :D&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/38287712-1881101798669954531?l=27435.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://27435.blogspot.com/feeds/1881101798669954531/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=38287712&amp;postID=1881101798669954531' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38287712/posts/default/1881101798669954531'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38287712/posts/default/1881101798669954531'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://27435.blogspot.com/2007/09/water.html' title='Water'/><author><name>pastelstargirl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03752400369575078219</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp0.blogger.com/_hJeZsDi0Nw4/Ru0uYIhRdZI/AAAAAAAAAQk/DyO4862UfSs/s72-c/glass_of_water.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38287712.post-907167835881222538</id><published>2007-09-15T21:34:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-09-15T21:39:08.962+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Examinations</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_hJeZsDi0Nw4/RuvgWYhRdYI/AAAAAAAAAQc/fWoauhP6LzA/s1600-h/Photo-0221.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5110424877325710722" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_hJeZsDi0Nw4/RuvgWYhRdYI/AAAAAAAAAQc/fWoauhP6LzA/s200/Photo-0221.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;The End of the Year Exams are coming, so I guess everyone is studying hard. G'luck then :) Cross our fingers for luck.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/38287712-907167835881222538?l=27435.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://27435.blogspot.com/feeds/907167835881222538/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=38287712&amp;postID=907167835881222538' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38287712/posts/default/907167835881222538'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38287712/posts/default/907167835881222538'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://27435.blogspot.com/2007/09/examinations.html' title='Examinations'/><author><name>pastelstargirl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03752400369575078219</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp3.blogger.com/_hJeZsDi0Nw4/RuvgWYhRdYI/AAAAAAAAAQc/fWoauhP6LzA/s72-c/Photo-0221.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38287712.post-3451413280888305808</id><published>2007-09-10T19:21:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-09-10T19:35:04.169+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Delirious!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_hJeZsDi0Nw4/RuUrP0uqswI/AAAAAAAAAQU/kPGTMHnM61E/s1600-h/DSCN1023.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5108536903174107906" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_hJeZsDi0Nw4/RuUrP0uqswI/AAAAAAAAAQU/kPGTMHnM61E/s200/DSCN1023.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Grace and Veron are pitiful for having to tolerate my sudden outburst of giggles and grins in class.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Then again, they are lucky because I think they enjoy the free entertainment they get. They get to watch comedy without switching on their TV set and wasting electricity bills. (If the &lt;em&gt;flasher&lt;/em&gt; or &lt;em&gt;dick leejz &lt;/em&gt;is reading, kindly&lt;em&gt; expose&lt;/em&gt; your thoughts in a constructive manner at my tagboard, or &lt;em&gt;secrete&lt;/em&gt; some &lt;em&gt;"wise"&lt;/em&gt; juices at my tagboard respectively :)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Haha, I'm delirious ;)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Yay!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/38287712-3451413280888305808?l=27435.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://27435.blogspot.com/feeds/3451413280888305808/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=38287712&amp;postID=3451413280888305808' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38287712/posts/default/3451413280888305808'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38287712/posts/default/3451413280888305808'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://27435.blogspot.com/2007/09/delirious.html' title='Delirious!'/><author><name>pastelstargirl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03752400369575078219</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp0.blogger.com/_hJeZsDi0Nw4/RuUrP0uqswI/AAAAAAAAAQU/kPGTMHnM61E/s72-c/DSCN1023.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38287712.post-732413860335433386</id><published>2007-09-09T12:14:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-09-09T12:21:22.858+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Change of Job</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_hJeZsDi0Nw4/RuN0pkuqstI/AAAAAAAAAP8/mZeDisYnN1k/s1600-h/Photo-0260.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5108054659951145682" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_hJeZsDi0Nw4/RuN0pkuqstI/AAAAAAAAAP8/mZeDisYnN1k/s200/Photo-0260.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Today's the last day of the September holidays. The holidays felt longer than they really were. Probably because I've staying at home most of the time doing nothing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, I suppose I have been slacking too much for my own good. My days as a full-time slacker, part-time student is over. I shall start serious, full-time studying today.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Okay, I hardly convince myself. But &lt;em&gt;my future's waiting for me out there&lt;/em&gt; :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Okay, I think I'm more convinced. Haha. I am funny. Okay, I honestly shall start to treat my studies seriously.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/38287712-732413860335433386?l=27435.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://27435.blogspot.com/feeds/732413860335433386/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=38287712&amp;postID=732413860335433386' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38287712/posts/default/732413860335433386'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38287712/posts/default/732413860335433386'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://27435.blogspot.com/2007/09/change-of-job.html' title='Change of Job'/><author><name>pastelstargirl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03752400369575078219</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp1.blogger.com/_hJeZsDi0Nw4/RuN0pkuqstI/AAAAAAAAAP8/mZeDisYnN1k/s72-c/Photo-0260.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38287712.post-4865656118309050474</id><published>2007-09-08T18:31:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-09-09T12:39:22.487+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Flags of Our Fathers</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://www.iwojima.com/"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5108056287743750882" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_hJeZsDi0Nw4/RuN2IUuqsuI/AAAAAAAAAQE/DPc5xstixNI/s320/Flagraising+(Iwo+Jima).gif" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;As a history student, I learnt about the Battle of Iwo Jima, and the number of casualties and deaths that it caused.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But when death is simply replaced by numbers, with no memory attached to it, or the slightest mention of who the deceased is and what kind of a person the deceased is, death is yet again, something &lt;em&gt;normal&lt;/em&gt;; something which will happen to every one of us at a certain point in our lives. The death tolls don't strike us badly. At most, we'll just think "oh, so many people died" and feel sorry for these people for a moment or two.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yes, just like that. I guess the phrase "comfort in numbers" does apply in a way or two here.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As I read the book, Flags of Our Fathers, I supposedly went through what these Marines endured. Of course, neither the physical treatment nor the emotional depth nor the brutality of it all. It was just the process. I teared when someone died, and feared for them as well, wondering what would happen next.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And then there were moments which I laughed, because it was funny. Happy, light-hearted moments.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Reading the last few pages, I began to cry. I sat down in my&lt;em&gt; toilet&lt;/em&gt; (yes I was reading in my toilet because I wanted privacy) and as I moved on from word to word, my tears came - naturally. It just came and before long, I was crying.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The emotional impact which the author meant to create in the reader hit me. I was utterly touched by the story, and saddened by the massive impact on normal lives world war two caused. These effects affect people tremendously, and it's not a matter of adjusting to their new lives. Some people never manage to adjust to their new lives and they die in the process without achieving anything; dying with so much hurt and emotion trapped in their souls. It's a sad, bleak life and it makes you understand that there are some things in life we just cannot control - like the occurrence of events such as war which change your life completely.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;These stories never fail to make me think that there's a limit to what we can do and what we can exert control over, despite being given our powers as intelligent beings at the top of Darwin's evolutionary ladder. And this very realisation makes me accept the small role that we play in life's great drama.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am amazed by books and the effects which they cause. Despite talks about e-books and all, I still think the book will still exist in many many years to come. Flipping the pages of a book, bending it when you're worried for the character, hugging it when you need comfort - these are actions which cannot be repeated with an e-book.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I really love Flags of Our Fathers. It honestly blew me away.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/38287712-4865656118309050474?l=27435.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://27435.blogspot.com/feeds/4865656118309050474/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=38287712&amp;postID=4865656118309050474' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38287712/posts/default/4865656118309050474'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38287712/posts/default/4865656118309050474'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://27435.blogspot.com/2007/09/flags-of-our-fathers.html' title='Flags of Our Fathers'/><author><name>pastelstargirl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03752400369575078219</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp0.blogger.com/_hJeZsDi0Nw4/RuN2IUuqsuI/AAAAAAAAAQE/DPc5xstixNI/s72-c/Flagraising+(Iwo+Jima).gif' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38287712.post-3018506148977172162</id><published>2007-09-07T20:43:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-09-07T20:49:29.291+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Bored.</title><content type='html'>I'm really really bored to tears. And I'm listening to Paris Hilton's song right now. LOL.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/38287712-3018506148977172162?l=27435.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://27435.blogspot.com/feeds/3018506148977172162/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=38287712&amp;postID=3018506148977172162' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38287712/posts/default/3018506148977172162'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38287712/posts/default/3018506148977172162'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://27435.blogspot.com/2007/09/bored.html' title='Bored.'/><author><name>pastelstargirl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03752400369575078219</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38287712.post-5007714255711268253</id><published>2007-09-05T22:31:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-09-05T22:50:29.601+08:00</updated><title type='text'>My happy dose of drug</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_hJeZsDi0Nw4/Rt6_UEuqssI/AAAAAAAAAP0/4NwRrFRHKWc/s1600-h/Crime+Prevention+1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5106729379072488130" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_hJeZsDi0Nw4/Rt6_UEuqssI/AAAAAAAAAP0/4NwRrFRHKWc/s200/Crime+Prevention+1.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;The session on Monday was the last el session before the exams. Tell me how to survive Tuesdays &amp;amp; Fridays and the monotony of lessons day in day out WITHOUT el!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;EL has seriously become my life.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/38287712-5007714255711268253?l=27435.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://27435.blogspot.com/feeds/5007714255711268253/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=38287712&amp;postID=5007714255711268253' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38287712/posts/default/5007714255711268253'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38287712/posts/default/5007714255711268253'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://27435.blogspot.com/2007/09/session-on-monday-was-last-el-session.html' title='My happy dose of drug'/><author><name>pastelstargirl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03752400369575078219</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp2.blogger.com/_hJeZsDi0Nw4/Rt6_UEuqssI/AAAAAAAAAP0/4NwRrFRHKWc/s72-c/Crime+Prevention+1.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38287712.post-6907000067492890830</id><published>2007-09-04T23:29:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-09-04T23:56:54.256+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Doughnuts</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_hJeZsDi0Nw4/Rt1_4kuqsrI/AAAAAAAAAPs/yZDoa0YzY-4/s1600-h/Doughnuts.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5106378162416825010" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_hJeZsDi0Nw4/Rt1_4kuqsrI/AAAAAAAAAPs/yZDoa0YzY-4/s200/Doughnuts.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Absolutely in love with doughnuts right now. Maybe the doughnut craze in Singapore right now has gripped me too. Munchy Donut's doughnuts are really tasty. I tried their peanut butter-chocolate doughnut today and I seriously loved the subtle taste of peanut butter with the luscious melted chocolate.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I like breadtalk's chocolate coated doughnut as well.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Actually, I just like doughnuts that are moist and chewy, not dry. I don't like it to be overly sweet so the chocolate must be bittersweet chocolate. The last time I ate one Krispy Kreme, I found it to be overly sweet and hence I got sick of it after a few bites. Not nice.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Shall try The Donut Factory's doughnuts during the next holiday break. Heehee.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Dough't (don't)  you say you love me too?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/38287712-6907000067492890830?l=27435.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://27435.blogspot.com/feeds/6907000067492890830/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=38287712&amp;postID=6907000067492890830' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38287712/posts/default/6907000067492890830'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38287712/posts/default/6907000067492890830'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://27435.blogspot.com/2007/09/doughnuts.html' title='Doughnuts'/><author><name>pastelstargirl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03752400369575078219</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp3.blogger.com/_hJeZsDi0Nw4/Rt1_4kuqsrI/AAAAAAAAAPs/yZDoa0YzY-4/s72-c/Doughnuts.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38287712.post-645293462722169026</id><published>2007-09-02T23:12:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-09-03T00:03:06.419+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Breezy Monsoon Winds</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_hJeZsDi0Nw4/RtremEuqsqI/AAAAAAAAAPk/-y0jLc2_sf4/s1600-h/Photo-0258.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5105637873263751842" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_hJeZsDi0Nw4/RtremEuqsqI/AAAAAAAAAPk/-y0jLc2_sf4/s200/Photo-0258.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;The weather's awfully nice now. The wind is breezy and the night air is really cool. I've left my window slightly open but the room feels really cool, as though I've switched on the air conditioner.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What a better way to spend the beautiful night than to... do physics corrections. Honestly, ten years down the road, when I do encounter another lovely evening like this, I can foresee the future me laughing at the current me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I do wish I could sleep early (sleep's absolutely important to maintain healthy, supple and youthful skin, lol :) but the physics corrections are staring at me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I suppose I'm finishing them up already. I can't wait to sleep :D&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/38287712-645293462722169026?l=27435.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://27435.blogspot.com/feeds/645293462722169026/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=38287712&amp;postID=645293462722169026' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38287712/posts/default/645293462722169026'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38287712/posts/default/645293462722169026'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://27435.blogspot.com/2007/09/breezy-monsoon-winds.html' title='Breezy Monsoon Winds'/><author><name>pastelstargirl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03752400369575078219</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp2.blogger.com/_hJeZsDi0Nw4/RtremEuqsqI/AAAAAAAAAPk/-y0jLc2_sf4/s72-c/Photo-0258.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38287712.post-6104210160101093752</id><published>2007-09-02T01:16:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-09-02T02:17:46.725+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Ironically, I'm a trendy girl.</title><content type='html'>I'm getting psyched up at the idea of going to National Library later to do research and leaf through the pages of thick, thick books.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I honestly have no idea why.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm getting excited at the prospect of wearing a pullover and doing some reading and writing in my notebook.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;WHEE! My inner nerd is like finally showing itself!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's normal how people often have many different sides to their personality which we don't see. Presumably, this is why we naturally assume that the side that's shown to us is the real one. We stick to our preconceived notions without a regard for the idea of "spilt personalities". When we do see the "other side", we're often shocked and surprised.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And then there are people who defy people's conventions about them. We stereotype others really often, the same way we judge books by their covers. That skinny girl with the black cardigan, rebonded hair, small handbag? She must be a lian. Or that guy with the long sleeved shirt, skinny jeans and really styled up dyed hair that's slightly long? He must be the lian's boyfriend - the beng.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't know how many times I've had people telling me I look pissed off or arrogant. In any case, I'm hardly angry or angsty.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well well, there's more.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If there's anything that freaks me out nowadays, it's seeing multiple girls who have long rebonded hair or bob a la Rihanna wearing either: skinny jeans with a spaghetti top, or skinny jeans with a cardigan, or cardigans with shorts, or tunics with tights, or any random top that has "TOPSHOP" or "FOREVER 21" or "HULA &amp; CO" splashed all over it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Worse still, I see many girls wearing retro printed dresses/mini dresses/tops from presumably online blog-shops or Hula &amp; Co. It's scary how multitudes of girls visit Topshop/Forever 21 and buy whatever clothes that is the current "in" or trend.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Even worse-r still, I see girls attempting to mix &amp; match trends with most unfortunate results. Then when I leaf through Seventeen mag, I realise that the girls I am irked by don't exactly dress like the models. Somehow, everyone seems to be copying the styles they see on the streets. Cardigan? Check. Skinny jeans? Check. Skinny, emanciated look? Check.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh well, I would admit to buying magazines to gain a rough idea of how to mix &amp;amp; match. But that's how the world works doesn't it? Someone sets a trend and the others follow - usually blindly. In any case, the teenager years are when one is impressionable and susceptible to their surroundings.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Don't think otherwise, I think it's perfectly alright if you wish to own some current "it" items, like flats, skinny jeans etc. I have nothing against skinny jeans, or cardigans for that matter. Even I am considering buying a pair, when I lose a little weight from my thighs &amp; hips.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;However, nothing can annoy me more than seeing people dressed almost like. These people are simply like walking mannequins of the so-called trend they follow. It's okay to gain ideas, not okay to copy &amp;amp; paste. I mean, our teenage years are supposed to be when we're dying to be original, to find a little piece of our identity. The way we dress is a reflection of how we are. People should dress up more often, but in a uniquely-me way. It's healthy fun and maybe then we'll stop complaining about how emo are lives are.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It is bad enough that we all wear similar looking outfits 5 days a week.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Come on, let's all boycott trends!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/38287712-6104210160101093752?l=27435.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://27435.blogspot.com/feeds/6104210160101093752/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=38287712&amp;postID=6104210160101093752' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38287712/posts/default/6104210160101093752'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38287712/posts/default/6104210160101093752'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://27435.blogspot.com/2007/09/ironically-im-trendy-girl.html' title='Ironically, I&apos;m a trendy girl.'/><author><name>pastelstargirl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03752400369575078219</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38287712.post-5526720746422026157</id><published>2007-08-31T20:06:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-08-31T20:15:15.505+08:00</updated><title type='text'>All things that start with "D"</title><content type='html'>Went out with Andrea today after Teachers' Day Celebrations. [Before meeting Andrea, I went to HarbourFront with Winata and guess what happened when we &lt;em&gt;attempted&lt;/em&gt; to take the bus back to Commonwealth?? We alighted at Queenstown MRT station bus stop, &lt;em&gt;thinking&lt;/em&gt; it was Commonwealth cos it said "Commonwealth Avenue". Haha!] Didn't buy a tennis racket and spent the money on tees instead.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I bought a green vintage tee (online), a tee that says "Friday" and another vintage tee.&lt;br /&gt;Omg. I love vintage tees :) Haha, I'm gonna make sure that I have so many tees that Grace will be jealous :P&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;I think people who have&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;em&gt;dicks&lt;/em&gt;&lt;strong&gt; as &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;heads&lt;/em&gt;&lt;strong&gt; should wear beanies. Grace, go get a beanie right away!&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Shall save for a tennis racket asap. I think I've been meaning to get it since last year, but I just didn't have the motivation to save.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think my blog posts are absolutely boring. Then again, I never meant for it to be entertaining. Lol.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/38287712-5526720746422026157?l=27435.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://27435.blogspot.com/feeds/5526720746422026157/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=38287712&amp;postID=5526720746422026157' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38287712/posts/default/5526720746422026157'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38287712/posts/default/5526720746422026157'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://27435.blogspot.com/2007/08/mondaytuesdaywednesdaythursdayfridaysat.html' title='All things that start with &quot;D&quot;'/><author><name>pastelstargirl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03752400369575078219</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38287712.post-2866863418669185998</id><published>2007-08-27T20:42:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-08-27T20:48:58.631+08:00</updated><title type='text'>September holidays!</title><content type='html'>I know the September holidays will be really short and jam-packed with mugging sessions. I've already made plans to study every single day of the September holiday, including weekends.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yes, I've suddenly transformed&lt;em&gt;,&lt;/em&gt; or rather, &lt;em&gt;transforming&lt;/em&gt; into this &lt;em&gt;paranoid-hardcore-mugger&lt;/em&gt;. Haha. &lt;em&gt;Who am I kidding, blogger?!&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyhoo, I'm damn excited to go out with Andrea this Friday to get my tennis racket! I've set my goals aright - hope to start tennis lessons after EOYs. And I'm seriously looking forward to 8th September - I'd be going out with Grace &amp; Veron for a full day. Yay!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Meanwhile, it's studying and studying and studying for a better report slip...&lt;br /&gt;I'd be looking forward to the day when I can smile at my books.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/38287712-2866863418669185998?l=27435.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://27435.blogspot.com/feeds/2866863418669185998/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=38287712&amp;postID=2866863418669185998' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38287712/posts/default/2866863418669185998'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38287712/posts/default/2866863418669185998'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://27435.blogspot.com/2007/08/september-holidays.html' title='September holidays!'/><author><name>pastelstargirl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03752400369575078219</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38287712.post-2319739850696030762</id><published>2007-08-23T22:45:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2007-08-23T22:46:06.425+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Left.</title><content type='html'>A part of me felt as though it has left and died, and gone to ground zero.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/38287712-2319739850696030762?l=27435.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://27435.blogspot.com/feeds/2319739850696030762/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=38287712&amp;postID=2319739850696030762' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38287712/posts/default/2319739850696030762'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38287712/posts/default/2319739850696030762'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://27435.blogspot.com/2007/08/left.html' title='Left.'/><author><name>pastelstargirl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03752400369575078219</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38287712.post-8231143365653906603</id><published>2007-08-22T19:04:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-08-22T19:20:07.548+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Apples have no effect on Ariel.</title><content type='html'>Oranges have been my best friend for the past week. There'll be one at my table every day. Day in, day out, there'll be an orange. Then my dad didn't bother to buy more oranges for me. Now, I have utterly no oranges to speak of.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I NEED ORANGES! URGH.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Without an orange a day, I keep eating. WHENEVER I CAN. My eating habits are turning like that of a starving African child who has never seen proper food for his whole life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Apples have absolutely no effect whatsoever on me, even though apples supposedly help to control one's appetite.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think I should just bring my moriji (read: ORANGE. Toy.) to school everyday.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/38287712-8231143365653906603?l=27435.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://27435.blogspot.com/feeds/8231143365653906603/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=38287712&amp;postID=8231143365653906603' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38287712/posts/default/8231143365653906603'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38287712/posts/default/8231143365653906603'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://27435.blogspot.com/2007/08/apples-have-no-effect-on-ariel.html' title='Apples have no effect on Ariel.'/><author><name>pastelstargirl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03752400369575078219</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38287712.post-427623986029275917</id><published>2007-08-20T19:41:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-08-20T19:48:22.979+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Utterly disdained</title><content type='html'>I am most disturbed by the existence of some people who enjoy wallowing in self pity. I utterly disdain people who cry after getting what appears to be relatively &lt;em&gt;good&lt;/em&gt; results.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Do they need a reality check, attention or a &lt;em&gt;slap&lt;/em&gt; in the face?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's not okay to be lazy, but if you've put in your best efforts - and you, most unfortunately cannot get an A, then that's the results you deserve. Period.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Such people should be shot. They lack a sense of social awareness.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Shameful&lt;/em&gt;.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/38287712-427623986029275917?l=27435.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://27435.blogspot.com/feeds/427623986029275917/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=38287712&amp;postID=427623986029275917' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38287712/posts/default/427623986029275917'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38287712/posts/default/427623986029275917'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://27435.blogspot.com/2007/08/utterly-disdained.html' title='Utterly disdained'/><author><name>pastelstargirl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03752400369575078219</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38287712.post-2885446236153222309</id><published>2007-08-19T22:11:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-08-19T22:58:09.677+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Agamemnon</title><content type='html'>I went to watch Agamemnon with eL on Saturday! And we took pictures in Clarke Quay :D&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_hJeZsDi0Nw4/RshQF52WTAI/AAAAAAAAAPM/l6yQ6IGjvHo/s1600-h/Agamemnon+(toilet).jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5100414640355429378" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_hJeZsDi0Nw4/RshQF52WTAI/AAAAAAAAAPM/l6yQ6IGjvHo/s200/Agamemnon+(toilet).jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_hJeZsDi0Nw4/RshQGJ2WTBI/AAAAAAAAAPU/vSJV5GF_aY8/s1600-h/Agamemnon+(clarke+quay).jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5100414644650396690" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_hJeZsDi0Nw4/RshQGJ2WTBI/AAAAAAAAAPU/vSJV5GF_aY8/s200/Agamemnon+(clarke+quay).jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_hJeZsDi0Nw4/RshQGJ2WTCI/AAAAAAAAAPc/7U34dLLhh2I/s1600-h/Agamemnon+(candid).jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5100414644650396706" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_hJeZsDi0Nw4/RshQGJ2WTCI/AAAAAAAAAPc/7U34dLLhh2I/s200/Agamemnon+(candid).jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;I ♥ eL!&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/38287712-2885446236153222309?l=27435.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://27435.blogspot.com/feeds/2885446236153222309/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=38287712&amp;postID=2885446236153222309' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38287712/posts/default/2885446236153222309'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38287712/posts/default/2885446236153222309'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://27435.blogspot.com/2007/08/agamemnon.html' title='Agamemnon'/><author><name>pastelstargirl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03752400369575078219</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp3.blogger.com/_hJeZsDi0Nw4/RshQF52WTAI/AAAAAAAAAPM/l6yQ6IGjvHo/s72-c/Agamemnon+(toilet).jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38287712.post-5029051611828789864</id><published>2007-08-19T14:33:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-08-19T15:02:12.625+08:00</updated><title type='text'>When everything fails...</title><content type='html'>Sometimes it's fantastic to have technology. You can tell someone something within seconds, just by pressing your handphone keys or the keyboard.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And honestly speaking, my handphone's been real handy during times when I'm bored. I always feel hopeful after looking at the "wishlist" which I've saved in my handphone.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then again, there are just times when you've done something which offended someone. Or perhaps you need to wish someone "Happy Birthday".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Maybe it's just me, but I often feel that a texted "sorry" isn't really sincere, so is a texted "happy birthday". All well, that's the way we live isn't it? Not that I am against it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't really mind it if you do send me "sorry"s and "happy birthday"s through sms. Sms-ing is really convenient and I do acknowledge the fact that we live in a busy world.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's occasionally disappointing that technology fails what it promises to do and that we take certain things for granted.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/38287712-5029051611828789864?l=27435.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://27435.blogspot.com/feeds/5029051611828789864/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=38287712&amp;postID=5029051611828789864' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38287712/posts/default/5029051611828789864'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38287712/posts/default/5029051611828789864'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://27435.blogspot.com/2007/08/when-everything-fails.html' title='When everything fails...'/><author><name>pastelstargirl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03752400369575078219</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38287712.post-518720220957414719</id><published>2007-08-18T23:18:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-08-18T23:21:34.676+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Frustration</title><content type='html'>Grace,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In any case, I did not try or attempt to leave you out of conversations today.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know you had to ensure that everyone was fine on our way to the DBS Arts Centre and hence you had to walk behind. I hope you understand I was walking in front because I wanted to ensure that everyone walked quickly and followed quickly.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can't help it if someone enjoys clinging to you. I can only say I will try to get you more involved in conversations so as to prevent you from feeling left out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I tell you I think this whole issue is so screwed up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm feeling very fk-ed up now.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/38287712-518720220957414719?l=27435.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://27435.blogspot.com/feeds/518720220957414719/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=38287712&amp;postID=518720220957414719' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38287712/posts/default/518720220957414719'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38287712/posts/default/518720220957414719'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://27435.blogspot.com/2007/08/frustration.html' title='Frustration'/><author><name>pastelstargirl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03752400369575078219</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38287712.post-6511337096016408322</id><published>2007-08-15T23:24:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-08-15T23:26:02.829+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Jesslyn Winata</title><content type='html'>&lt;u&gt;HAPPY BIRTHDAY JESSLYN! &lt;/u&gt;:)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You are 15, "pregnant" and loved!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/38287712-6511337096016408322?l=27435.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://27435.blogspot.com/feeds/6511337096016408322/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=38287712&amp;postID=6511337096016408322' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38287712/posts/default/6511337096016408322'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38287712/posts/default/6511337096016408322'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://27435.blogspot.com/2007/08/jesslyn-winata.html' title='Jesslyn Winata'/><author><name>pastelstargirl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03752400369575078219</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38287712.post-8268597490585622034</id><published>2007-08-15T20:08:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-08-15T20:20:46.101+08:00</updated><title type='text'>The strength to make it through the day...</title><content type='html'>When you come undone...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Everyday's been alright, as it should be. I'm glad I'm beginning to gain some &lt;em&gt;confidence&lt;/em&gt; while doing maths. I've failed my chinese test, my math test &amp; my physics test as well. What else is there left for me fail?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;None.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wonder how I am able to take it all in my stride; to think positively even when I've failed. Most of the time, I see people bawling and crying yet I am able to stop myself from crying.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Have I gotten used to failing subjects? Maybe. But to put it euphemistically, I just have a strong character.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then again, am I deluding myself? I don't know. Sometimes, it's so tiring to keep looking for answers when the answers aren't even there in the first place.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have a little fear that I'll fail everything in the end.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Those once-in-a-blue-moon moments occur and take us by surprise. Sometimes, things work themselves out and everything will be fine in the end.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Is this going to be true this time round? I don't think so.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But I won't give up. Even if I were to fail, I know I had tried my best at that point in time, and I would try even harder the next time round.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/38287712-8268597490585622034?l=27435.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://27435.blogspot.com/feeds/8268597490585622034/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=38287712&amp;postID=8268597490585622034' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38287712/posts/default/8268597490585622034'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38287712/posts/default/8268597490585622034'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://27435.blogspot.com/2007/08/strength-to-make-it-through-day.html' title='The strength to make it through the day...'/><author><name>pastelstargirl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03752400369575078219</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38287712.post-1862632065782513834</id><published>2007-08-12T12:40:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-08-12T13:39:20.067+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Really Short Hair</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_hJeZsDi0Nw4/Rr6SvAXLdQI/AAAAAAAAAO8/HtkxKdlAeqA/s1600-h/Photo-0233+(1).jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5097673164478706946" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_hJeZsDi0Nw4/Rr6SvAXLdQI/AAAAAAAAAO8/HtkxKdlAeqA/s200/Photo-0233+(1).jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have Really Short Hair right now. Chopped them all off yesterday.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;As the years go by, I seem to prefer short hair. It's either my preferences that are changing, or I've always liked short hair (but I never really realised it).&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I think it'll take some time before anyone gets used to my new hair (yes, including myself). Meanwhile, you can laugh your guts out over my Really Short Hair.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Anyway, I shall post some pictures of myself BEFORE I snipped off my locks.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5097673164478706962" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_hJeZsDi0Nw4/Rr6SvAXLdRI/AAAAAAAAAPE/my2vKn9c-No/s200/Photo-0235.jpg" border="0" /&gt;Never mind, I can't find any decent pictures of my hair let down in all its worth. Hence I posted pictures of myself playing "gypsy girl". Haha.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's gonna be a &lt;em&gt;long&lt;/em&gt; week ahead.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/38287712-1862632065782513834?l=27435.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://27435.blogspot.com/feeds/1862632065782513834/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=38287712&amp;postID=1862632065782513834' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38287712/posts/default/1862632065782513834'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38287712/posts/default/1862632065782513834'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://27435.blogspot.com/2007/08/really-short-hair.html' title='Really Short Hair'/><author><name>pastelstargirl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03752400369575078219</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp3.blogger.com/_hJeZsDi0Nw4/Rr6SvAXLdQI/AAAAAAAAAO8/HtkxKdlAeqA/s72-c/Photo-0233+(1).jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38287712.post-6011458685012843557</id><published>2007-08-11T23:21:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-08-11T23:31:54.978+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Undone</title><content type='html'>&lt;u&gt;Undone - Lifehouse&lt;/u&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(Because this song is loved :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can see it your eyes you're hurting&lt;br /&gt;But pain is part of learning who you are&lt;br /&gt;All these truths can sometimes be deceiving&lt;br /&gt;When your whole world comes crashing to the ground&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tell me everything you need now anything at all&lt;br /&gt;And I will be the one who's waiting anytime you fall&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yeah, When you come undone&lt;br /&gt;When you come undone&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You know I can't be like everybody&lt;br /&gt;Cause I can't tell you what you want to hear&lt;br /&gt;I don't know if I can make it better&lt;br /&gt;All I know is I will be around&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tell me everything you need now anything at all&lt;br /&gt;And I will be the one who's waiting anytime you fall&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yeah, When you come undone&lt;br /&gt;When you come undone&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When all your plans are made out lying on the floor&lt;br /&gt;And all your dreams are turning into nothing more&lt;br /&gt;When all your hope has left you know you're not alone&lt;br /&gt;Just hold on&lt;br /&gt;Hold on&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tell me everything you need now anything at all&lt;br /&gt;And I will be the one who's waiting anytime you fall&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yeah, When you come undone&lt;br /&gt;When you come undone&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/38287712-6011458685012843557?l=27435.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://27435.blogspot.com/feeds/6011458685012843557/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=38287712&amp;postID=6011458685012843557' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38287712/posts/default/6011458685012843557'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38287712/posts/default/6011458685012843557'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://27435.blogspot.com/2007/08/undone.html' title='Undone'/><author><name>pastelstargirl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03752400369575078219</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38287712.post-4150308821880695397</id><published>2007-08-11T01:07:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-08-11T01:54:33.672+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Epiphany</title><content type='html'>Usually you go through life routinely. Once in a while, you experience something new and the memory stays there with you. After that, it's back to the same old routine.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You get sick of such a routine because you don't learn anything at all. Nevertheless you keep telling yourself "I'll break away from this cycle after the exams, or when I'm older. After all, I'm still young...".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Everyday will be a new day with new opportunities.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Has it ever occurred to us that, if we don't start believing that we can break away from our habits and the routine that we have got so used to now, we never will?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Time is a god-given gift that we have taken for granted; a gift which we often misuse, much to our own regrets. For now, youth does look like an eternal fountain but ina few years time it'll be gone, never to return again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And then I had this sudden realisation that it's time I choose to live life happily. Happiness does seem to have a lot of psychological and physiological benefits which enhance a person's life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Doesn't every adult say that youth is the best time of their lives?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's really time I stopped being such an &lt;em&gt;emo&lt;/em&gt;-kid (having disdain and discontentment for everything). It's natural to feel unhappiness but surely, feeling unhappy/miffed about every single detail in life every single day is way overboard. It just screams "emo, angsty teenager" all the way.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Don't you think that happy teenagers lead very fulfilling lives? Happy people inspire you to want to live better.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I'm an adult, I do not wish to look back on my youth regretting about past moments and identifying opportunities to be happy which I have missed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Perhaps the whole idea of associating "happiness" and "teenage years" appears to be a huge irony. I do seem, to a certain extent, to be psyching myself to be happy. But when you think again, you're the one who loses out when you choose to live miserably and see yourself in the lowliest manner.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't want to be an angsty teenager. It's not a right [to be one], it's a choice of how I perceive life to be. It is rather depressing to say that in all these mere 15 years of existence, nothing has caused me to experience true human emotions. I don't want to waste time being unhappy about how much of "a crap my life is". It's not a matter of practicality; rather it's a matter of being mature and wise enough to decide what's best.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As such, I should be happy. I want to be happy. And this, is a sudden epiphany.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And now, everyday is a new day.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/38287712-4150308821880695397?l=27435.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://27435.blogspot.com/feeds/4150308821880695397/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=38287712&amp;postID=4150308821880695397' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38287712/posts/default/4150308821880695397'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38287712/posts/default/4150308821880695397'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://27435.blogspot.com/2007/08/epiphany.html' title='Epiphany'/><author><name>pastelstargirl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03752400369575078219</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38287712.post-8337770948803246860</id><published>2007-08-09T00:11:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-08-09T00:26:15.507+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Take it from the top</title><content type='html'>I just realised that I severely lack plain tees.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have quite a fair number of printed, colourful items but I have absolutely no plain tees or anything.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's time to &lt;em&gt;take it from the top&lt;/em&gt;.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/38287712-8337770948803246860?l=27435.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://27435.blogspot.com/feeds/8337770948803246860/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=38287712&amp;postID=8337770948803246860' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38287712/posts/default/8337770948803246860'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38287712/posts/default/8337770948803246860'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://27435.blogspot.com/2007/08/take-it-from-top.html' title='Take it from the top'/><author><name>pastelstargirl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03752400369575078219</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38287712.post-3447238942969527196</id><published>2007-08-07T23:02:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-08-08T20:00:39.521+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Chapter One</title><content type='html'>&lt;u&gt;Lifehouse - Chapter One Lyrics&lt;/u&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All the stars are out tonight it feels as though I might&lt;br /&gt;Make some sense out of this madness will it turn out right&lt;br /&gt;Who's to say where the wind will blow&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Time will tell us if we're out of answers when it stops&lt;br /&gt;Climb back down to the beginning&lt;br /&gt;Take it from the top&lt;br /&gt;Who's to say where the wind will blow&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What happens when all your dreams are lying on the ground&lt;br /&gt;Do you pick up the pieces all around&lt;br /&gt;And if the world should fall apart hold on to what you know&lt;br /&gt;Take your chances turn around and go&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All the leaves are turning and the sky fades to gray&lt;br /&gt;Strange our life coincides with the seasons of today&lt;br /&gt;Who's to say where the wind will blow&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What happens when everything is lying on the ground&lt;br /&gt;Do you pick up the pieces all around&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And if the world should fall apart hold on to what you know&lt;br /&gt;Take your chances turn around and go&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Carry on you say&lt;br /&gt;Bring the best of today&lt;br /&gt;All I see is struggling on the way&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Maybe when the sun crashes through the gray&lt;br /&gt;I can find the strength to make it through the day&lt;br /&gt;Through the day&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What happens when all your dreams are lying on the ground&lt;br /&gt;Do you pick up the pieces all around&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And if the world should fall apart hold on to what you know&lt;br /&gt;Take your chances turn around and go&lt;br /&gt;Take your chances turn around and go&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;* I'm IN LOVE with this song!!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/38287712-3447238942969527196?l=27435.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://27435.blogspot.com/feeds/3447238942969527196/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=38287712&amp;postID=3447238942969527196' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38287712/posts/default/3447238942969527196'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38287712/posts/default/3447238942969527196'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://27435.blogspot.com/2007/08/chapter-one.html' title='Chapter One'/><author><name>pastelstargirl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03752400369575078219</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38287712.post-6426870092549424137</id><published>2007-08-05T21:42:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-08-05T21:50:35.673+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Happy Day!</title><content type='html'>These few days have been so fun!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I ♥ eating seafood :)&lt;br /&gt;I ♥ Grace :)&lt;br /&gt;I ♥ Veron :)&lt;br /&gt;I ♥ Lifehouse (baldie and all :)&lt;br /&gt;I ♥ dressing-up :)&lt;br /&gt;I ♥ Crystal Jade's wanton mee :)&lt;br /&gt;I ♥ EL &amp; debates :)&lt;br /&gt;I ♥ everything right now ;)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/38287712-6426870092549424137?l=27435.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://27435.blogspot.com/feeds/6426870092549424137/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=38287712&amp;postID=6426870092549424137' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38287712/posts/default/6426870092549424137'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38287712/posts/default/6426870092549424137'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://27435.blogspot.com/2007/08/happy-day.html' title='Happy Day!'/><author><name>pastelstargirl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03752400369575078219</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38287712.post-6396699133454127014</id><published>2007-08-02T20:11:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-08-02T20:14:25.219+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Hairhair</title><content type='html'>It's been such a long time since I felt happy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For once,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm happy :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Hairhair.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/38287712-6396699133454127014?l=27435.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://27435.blogspot.com/feeds/6396699133454127014/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=38287712&amp;postID=6396699133454127014' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38287712/posts/default/6396699133454127014'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38287712/posts/default/6396699133454127014'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://27435.blogspot.com/2007/08/hairhair.html' title='Hairhair'/><author><name>pastelstargirl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03752400369575078219</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38287712.post-95634359556051693</id><published>2007-07-30T19:44:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2007-07-30T19:45:17.029+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Water</title><content type='html'>At last!&lt;br /&gt;An everlasting source of water is mine.&lt;br /&gt;And mine alone.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No more disowning of any bottles.&lt;br /&gt;This one's mine :D&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/38287712-95634359556051693?l=27435.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://27435.blogspot.com/feeds/95634359556051693/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=38287712&amp;postID=95634359556051693' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38287712/posts/default/95634359556051693'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38287712/posts/default/95634359556051693'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://27435.blogspot.com/2007/07/water.html' title='Water'/><author><name>pastelstargirl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03752400369575078219</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38287712.post-4402909062065860516</id><published>2007-07-25T19:15:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-07-25T19:18:35.922+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Piggy Bankrupt</title><content type='html'>I've gone piggy-bankrupt!&lt;br /&gt;I've spent every single cent in my piggy bank, right down to the smallest, dirtiest 5 cent coin - I've spent it all.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Urgh. No thanks to Heritage Day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm broke!&lt;br /&gt;And I'm going crazy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have so many assignments and tests to study for and...&lt;br /&gt;URGH!&lt;br /&gt;URGH!&lt;br /&gt;URGH!!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/38287712-4402909062065860516?l=27435.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://27435.blogspot.com/feeds/4402909062065860516/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=38287712&amp;postID=4402909062065860516' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38287712/posts/default/4402909062065860516'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38287712/posts/default/4402909062065860516'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://27435.blogspot.com/2007/07/piggy-bankrupt.html' title='Piggy Bankrupt'/><author><name>pastelstargirl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03752400369575078219</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38287712.post-8155506774791907289</id><published>2007-07-24T21:31:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-07-24T21:34:30.508+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Crazy Week</title><content type='html'>This week is &lt;s&gt;gonna be so&lt;/s&gt; darn crazy for me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tests!&lt;br /&gt;Othello!&lt;br /&gt;Studying!&lt;br /&gt;Taking long clean baths!&lt;br /&gt;Writing in my journal/s!&lt;br /&gt;My cute lamp :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can't imagine surviving a week or two without my precioussss pocket money, which has been used for paying tickets (Heritage Day by RV, no less).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;URGH.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Money money money.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;It's so funny.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;In a rich man's world.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/38287712-8155506774791907289?l=27435.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://27435.blogspot.com/feeds/8155506774791907289/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=38287712&amp;postID=8155506774791907289' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38287712/posts/default/8155506774791907289'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38287712/posts/default/8155506774791907289'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://27435.blogspot.com/2007/07/crazy-week.html' title='Crazy Week'/><author><name>pastelstargirl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03752400369575078219</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38287712.post-178880416177412381</id><published>2007-07-23T20:20:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-07-23T20:22:17.469+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Fallen</title><content type='html'>Fallen - Lauren Wood&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can't believe it,&lt;br /&gt;you're a dream coming true.&lt;br /&gt;I can't believe how&lt;br /&gt;I have fallen for you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And I was not looking,&lt;br /&gt;was content to remain.&lt;br /&gt;And it's ironic&lt;br /&gt;to be back in the game.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You are the one&lt;br /&gt;who's led me to the sun.&lt;br /&gt;How could I know&lt;br /&gt;that I was lost without you...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And I want to tell you,&lt;br /&gt;you control my brain..&lt;br /&gt;And you should know&lt;br /&gt;that you are life in my veins.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You are the one&lt;br /&gt;who's led me to the sun.&lt;br /&gt;How could I know that&lt;br /&gt;I was lost without you...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can't believe it,&lt;br /&gt;you're a dream coming true.&lt;br /&gt;I can't believe how&lt;br /&gt;I have fallen for you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And I was not looking,&lt;br /&gt;was content to remain.&lt;br /&gt;And it's erotic&lt;br /&gt;to be back in the game.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*It's a 1980s song. The lyrics are sweet! I've added it to my playlist ;) Though I have "no dream coming true"...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Haha.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/38287712-178880416177412381?l=27435.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://27435.blogspot.com/feeds/178880416177412381/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=38287712&amp;postID=178880416177412381' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38287712/posts/default/178880416177412381'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38287712/posts/default/178880416177412381'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://27435.blogspot.com/2007/07/fallen.html' title='Fallen'/><author><name>pastelstargirl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03752400369575078219</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38287712.post-5301329389568888799</id><published>2007-07-21T13:17:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-07-21T13:55:33.983+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Cook was Crazy Love</title><content type='html'>Just got home from OBS yesterday. OBS was:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;100% tiring&lt;br /&gt;30% enjoyable&lt;br /&gt;100% sore muscles&lt;br /&gt;50% life lessons&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It wasn't exactly enjoyable at the very least, in my opinion, but you learn about yourself. Every day, you had to pitch your tents and unpitch them. There was no electricity and you survived on bread and biscuits every single day. You might not be able to bathe or brush your teeth for days and you're subjected to the "harsh" conditions of nature. Mind you, I didn't brush my teeth for two days.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If I ever have to eat another biscuit for the next few weeks, I think I'd rather starve. When I got back yesterday, I ate sushi as though there was no tomorrow. I was freaking deprived of proper food...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Despite all, OBS did achieve its goal of having everyone learn an important value. I managed to learn about perseverance and relying on oneself. Especially so, when you have some retarded classmate/s in your watch (aka group). Those who are perpetually hungry or can only talk about HL milk...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh, my watch was named Cook. As in Mount Cook, not cooking. There was me, Emily, Veron, *ahem*, *ahem* and a few other people from 3A and 3G. Cook was crazy love. We helped each other, and it was 12 against 2 most of the time. The two are the ones who either ate non-stop or were crazy about HL milk...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyhow, my greatest moment was when I trudged along with the others during the trekking. I walked for about 10-odd km carrying a bloody heavy 15kg+ backpack filled with food items, a big silver cooking pot and utensils. At the same time, I helped to carry someone's tent, 2 lifejackets and 3 2-litre water bottles filled with water. That was about another 18kg+ or so.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Haha. I'm so darn proud of myself for trekking and carrying the whole way!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Everyone (with the exception of the two retarded classmates who couldn't carry their own tent and kept complaining or sighing; HL milk anyone?) did a fantastic job as well! The ever-nooby Grace managed to carry her backpack which I presume was equally heavy. Veron who is damn weak managed to carry her backpack which contained our clothes and belongings, plus a few empty jerry cans.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;See! OBS is a camp where you grow stronger. Hehe. I lost about 2kg but my muscles developed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Besides muscles, we have tons of battle scars. We battled the damn mosquitoes day and night - somehow they just keep coming back for more blood. Ants in Pulau Ubin seem to be of a different breed as well. They don't drown. Those blasted little idiots bite you too.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Come to think of those nights I spent in the dark &amp;amp; wild, I really appreciate the electricity I have at home. And not to mention clean water and an almost ever-lasting supply of fruits and hot food (which thankfully, aren't biscuits or cheese buns).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You don't feel that hungry during the whole 5 days in OBS. I hardly feel hungry nowadays but still, I'm very grateful that hot meals exist.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You know what? OBS made me feel so very motivated to get moving. I'm gonna exercise and I shall pick up a new sport! I can feel it in my bones...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I feel fitter already.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Haha. Another 10km of walking? Bring it on!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/38287712-5301329389568888799?l=27435.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://27435.blogspot.com/feeds/5301329389568888799/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=38287712&amp;postID=5301329389568888799' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38287712/posts/default/5301329389568888799'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38287712/posts/default/5301329389568888799'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://27435.blogspot.com/2007/07/little-sore-sick.html' title='Cook was Crazy Love'/><author><name>pastelstargirl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03752400369575078219</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38287712.post-71513493215200711</id><published>2007-07-15T12:29:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2007-07-15T12:31:33.236+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Tomorrow - OBS. OMG. Panic. Faint.</title><content type='html'>Tomorrow - OBS.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;OMG.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Panic.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Faint.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/38287712-71513493215200711?l=27435.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://27435.blogspot.com/feeds/71513493215200711/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=38287712&amp;postID=71513493215200711' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38287712/posts/default/71513493215200711'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38287712/posts/default/71513493215200711'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://27435.blogspot.com/2007/07/tomorrow-obs-omg-panic-faint.html' title='Tomorrow - OBS. OMG. Panic. Faint.'/><author><name>pastelstargirl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03752400369575078219</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38287712.post-7042473414871542607</id><published>2007-07-13T22:38:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-07-13T22:39:37.145+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Populus vult decipi, decipiatur</title><content type='html'>Populus vult decipi, decipiatur.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One day they'll realise how stupid they are. Haha.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/38287712-7042473414871542607?l=27435.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://27435.blogspot.com/feeds/7042473414871542607/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=38287712&amp;postID=7042473414871542607' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38287712/posts/default/7042473414871542607'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38287712/posts/default/7042473414871542607'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://27435.blogspot.com/2007/07/populus-vult-decipi-decipiatur.html' title='Populus vult decipi, decipiatur'/><author><name>pastelstargirl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03752400369575078219</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38287712.post-848485872742605462</id><published>2007-07-12T20:46:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-07-12T20:52:13.362+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Don't Love You Like Yesterday</title><content type='html'>I used to think that you were alright.&lt;br /&gt;I was proud of you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Whenever people asked me, I would proudly say your name.&lt;br /&gt;Happily.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Words aren't enough to describe the way I felt about you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But a few months could do so much.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Things have changed.&lt;br /&gt;You're not the same.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You're lousy and pathetic.&lt;br /&gt;I hate you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't love you like yesterday.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm referring to my school. Rofl :D Tricked you, didn't I?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/38287712-848485872742605462?l=27435.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://27435.blogspot.com/feeds/848485872742605462/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=38287712&amp;postID=848485872742605462' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38287712/posts/default/848485872742605462'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38287712/posts/default/848485872742605462'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://27435.blogspot.com/2007/07/dont-love-you-like-yesterday.html' title='Don&apos;t Love You Like Yesterday'/><author><name>pastelstargirl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03752400369575078219</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38287712.post-5874075396437245733</id><published>2007-07-11T18:26:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-07-11T18:45:50.952+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Arty-Farty Ariel T</title><content type='html'>I wanna take Art classes!&lt;br /&gt;Or take up dance!&lt;br /&gt;Or music lessons!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wanna be more involved in the arts. I do Science &amp; Math in school. Except for drama, there's nothing arty about me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;An art snob! Haha. I &lt;em&gt;aspire&lt;/em&gt; to be an art snob (those people you will probably meet when you visit art galleries or museums - those who are able to give proper comments on a piece of work, instead of gushing or gawking like &lt;em&gt;the rest of us)&lt;/em&gt;. Then, I'd be able to laugh at those juvenile pieces of drawings done by BALIAs which sometimes make you exclaim "nice". Urgh.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Drawing dresses or pieces of clothing on models would be really cool :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyhow, I'm searching for places to take up art classes. Either drawing or designing, but no anime drawing... I appreciate Japanese culture, but I guess I have seen enough to associate teenage anime drawings with BALIAs.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm tired of spending my Sundays and Saturdays slacking at home/going out with no particular purpose :(&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/38287712-5874075396437245733?l=27435.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://27435.blogspot.com/feeds/5874075396437245733/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=38287712&amp;postID=5874075396437245733' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38287712/posts/default/5874075396437245733'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38287712/posts/default/5874075396437245733'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://27435.blogspot.com/2007/07/arty-farty-ariel-t.html' title='Arty-Farty Ariel T'/><author><name>pastelstargirl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03752400369575078219</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38287712.post-5363541442274338967</id><published>2007-07-11T18:07:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-07-11T18:11:56.815+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Crazy Shit</title><content type='html'>We have so many assignments! And right before OBS too.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm not looking forward to OBS. I'd love to fall sick the day before, so I needn't go.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I hate camps (except el camp of course).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pure torture.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/38287712-5363541442274338967?l=27435.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://27435.blogspot.com/feeds/5363541442274338967/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=38287712&amp;postID=5363541442274338967' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38287712/posts/default/5363541442274338967'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38287712/posts/default/5363541442274338967'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://27435.blogspot.com/2007/07/crazy-shit.html' title='Crazy Shit'/><author><name>pastelstargirl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03752400369575078219</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38287712.post-6121714311259381740</id><published>2007-07-10T20:59:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-07-10T21:01:07.891+08:00</updated><title type='text'>FootBall Thailand shorts</title><content type='html'>Wow.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I seriously never knew that FBT stood for FootBall Thailand. When I read Ning Qian's blog a long time ago, the phrase "FootBall Thailand" pants appeared in her entry. I read it, laughed it off and assumed that Ning Qian made it up herself.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think I'm a noob. Haha.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/38287712-6121714311259381740?l=27435.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://27435.blogspot.com/feeds/6121714311259381740/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=38287712&amp;postID=6121714311259381740' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38287712/posts/default/6121714311259381740'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38287712/posts/default/6121714311259381740'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://27435.blogspot.com/2007/07/football-thailand-shorts.html' title='FootBall Thailand shorts'/><author><name>pastelstargirl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03752400369575078219</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38287712.post-4227749337386923080</id><published>2007-07-09T19:00:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-07-09T19:29:20.489+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Resigned to discontentment</title><content type='html'>I'm so discontented with school right now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Firstly, it was council.&lt;br /&gt;Then, the school system.&lt;br /&gt;Now, IP.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh by the way, I have always been disgusted at the way eldds is being treated. Don't even get me started about the puny amount of funding we receive (second thoughts: I doubt we have funding at all); the pathetic number of people who are posted to eldds; the lousy and dirty drama studio which is very much in need of $10000 renovations; the ridiculous expectations of the school when at the very start, we are neglected, ignored and looked down upon; our ever-changing status from a performing arts cca to a club&amp;society... There's more.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If they can afford to pay $10000 for the upgraded chapel-turned-dance studio, why can't they even pay their electricity bills ($20000 / 2 = $10000, in case you couldn't count)? Or at least use some of their money wisely (even 1% would be good) to help the poor-and-lacking-badly-in-funds eldds? Like hello, you're not gonna get "sustained achievement awards" for performing arts if you continue to ignore the drama people. We may be small and insignificant, but oh, when you fail to get your "sustained achievement awards" perhaps it's all thanks to us.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now seriously, who's the pot calling the kettle black?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Honestly, I'm just dying to transfer. I sound terrifically desperate. Guess what?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I AM DESPERATE!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now, IP. I don't get the rationale behind us doing certain things. Neither am I sure of how things are going. It really makes me wonder if they themselves are sure of the direction they are heading to.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Determination's one thing. Foresight's another.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Language lessons are extremely boring.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Example:&lt;br /&gt;Year 1 (or Sec 1 as it was then called): We learn about speeches.&lt;br /&gt;Year 2: We learn about speeches.&lt;br /&gt;Year 3: We learn about speeches (again!).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And it's the same with every other subject - topics making their appearance into our notes every year.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Are we seriously running out of topics that we have to "recycle" them?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If IP is meant to "open your mind" and enable you - the young and naive student, to develop a mind of your own plus gain a global outlook on issues, why do we - perhaps the not-so-naive-anymore-students, feel - ironically, and very much [not] suprisingly - suppressed and bounded by restrictions?!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We think, we suggest, we get... Rejected. Our egos are crushed. But never mind, we solder on. We complain, we are discontented. And we think again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why can't we have a more "broad-based" education?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm sure a broad-based education does not necessarily imply taking up many different kinds of subjects. Rather, we probably mean activities (Watching plays! Discussing novels! Having active discussions!).  For goodness' sake, activities do not always mean learning journeys (oh, please! That's so passe).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyhow, I feel so darn resigned to discontentment. People can get it, I can't get out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh I want leave this dreaded place so badly! If  it was not for el, I don't know what else.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/38287712-4227749337386923080?l=27435.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://27435.blogspot.com/feeds/4227749337386923080/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=38287712&amp;postID=4227749337386923080' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38287712/posts/default/4227749337386923080'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38287712/posts/default/4227749337386923080'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://27435.blogspot.com/2007/07/resigned-to-discontentment.html' title='Resigned to discontentment'/><author><name>pastelstargirl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03752400369575078219</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38287712.post-710451063262045503</id><published>2007-07-09T18:47:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-07-09T18:58:27.584+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Pig Hearts &amp; Blood Clots</title><content type='html'>For Bio practical today, we had a "once-in-a-lifetime" experience to feel the insides of a pig. We caressed the organ and stroked it gently.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Alright, we had to take a closer look at pig hearts for our bio lesson. It was fascinating - all that arteries and veins and pulmonary whats-not. Our teacher even sliced up the heart with glee, and with bare hands - yes, bare hands.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyhow, we squirmed and "eww"-ed and finally we got down and dirty with the hearts. I'd admit that I was a bit hesitant to poke my finger into the pulmonary artery. Never mind, I still poked my finger into the artery in the end.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There were blood clots all around. Thick and sticky. Like those that emerge and appear on your sanitary pads every month.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You were imagining that, weren't you?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Haha.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/38287712-710451063262045503?l=27435.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://27435.blogspot.com/feeds/710451063262045503/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=38287712&amp;postID=710451063262045503' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38287712/posts/default/710451063262045503'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38287712/posts/default/710451063262045503'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://27435.blogspot.com/2007/07/pig-hearts-blood-clots.html' title='Pig Hearts &amp; Blood Clots'/><author><name>pastelstargirl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03752400369575078219</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38287712.post-8466441541288137972</id><published>2007-07-02T20:27:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-07-02T20:30:14.614+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Nothing Lasts Forever</title><content type='html'>&lt;u&gt;Nothing Lasts Forever - Maroon 5&lt;/u&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It is so easy to see&lt;br /&gt;Dysfunction between you and me&lt;br /&gt;We must free up these tired souls&lt;br /&gt;Before the sadness kills us both&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I tried and tried to let you know&lt;br /&gt;I love you but I'm letting go&lt;br /&gt;It may not last but I don't know&lt;br /&gt;Just don't know&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you don't know&lt;br /&gt;Then you can't care&lt;br /&gt;And you show up&lt;br /&gt;But you're not there&lt;br /&gt;But I'm waiting&lt;br /&gt;And you want to&lt;br /&gt;Still afraid that I will desert you&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Everyday&lt;br /&gt;With every worthless word we get more far away&lt;br /&gt;The distance between us makes it so hard to stay&lt;br /&gt;But &lt;strong&gt;nothing lasts forever&lt;/strong&gt;, but be honest babe&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;It hurts but it may be the only way&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A bed that's warm with memories&lt;br /&gt;Can heal us temporarily&lt;br /&gt;The misbehaving only makes&lt;br /&gt;The ditch between us so damn deep&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Built a wall around my heart&lt;br /&gt;I’ll never let it fall apart&lt;br /&gt;But strangely I wish secretly&lt;br /&gt;It would fall down while I'm asleep&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you don't know&lt;br /&gt;Then you can't care&lt;br /&gt;And you show up&lt;br /&gt;But you're not there&lt;br /&gt;But I'm waiting&lt;br /&gt;And you want to&lt;br /&gt;Still afraid that I will desert you, babe&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Everyday&lt;br /&gt;With every worthless word we get more far away&lt;br /&gt;The distance between us makes it so hard to stay&lt;br /&gt;But nothing lasts forever, but be honest babe&lt;br /&gt;It hurts but it may be the only way&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tough we have not hit the ground&lt;br /&gt;It doesn't mean we're not still falling,&lt;br /&gt;Oh I want so bad to pick you up&lt;br /&gt;But you're still too reluctant to accept my help&lt;br /&gt;What a shame, I hope you find somewhere to place the blame&lt;br /&gt;But until then the fact remains&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Everyday&lt;br /&gt;With every worthless word we get more far away&lt;br /&gt;The distance between us makes you so hard to stay&lt;br /&gt;Nothing lasts forever, but be honest babe&lt;br /&gt;It hurts but it may be the only way&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Everyday&lt;br /&gt;With every worthless word we get more far away&lt;br /&gt;The distance between us makes it so hard to stay&lt;br /&gt;But nothing lasts forever, but be honest babe&lt;br /&gt;It hurts but it may be the only way&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/38287712-8466441541288137972?l=27435.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://27435.blogspot.com/feeds/8466441541288137972/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=38287712&amp;postID=8466441541288137972' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38287712/posts/default/8466441541288137972'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38287712/posts/default/8466441541288137972'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://27435.blogspot.com/2007/07/nothing-lasts-forever.html' title='Nothing Lasts Forever'/><author><name>pastelstargirl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03752400369575078219</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38287712.post-3003613288241428541</id><published>2007-07-02T20:06:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-07-02T20:26:04.416+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Spoilt Little Girl</title><content type='html'>Sometimes I wish I could be a really spoilt little girl. Like those you see in american cartoons, or read in books. It feels as though these spoilt girls get everything and anything.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They want clothes.&lt;br /&gt;They get it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They want more money from their parents.&lt;br /&gt;They get it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They want to go out with their friends, and they demand it.&lt;br /&gt;They get it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If I was a spoilt little girl, I had better things to ask for...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wish I wouldn't need to see them. I wish I could kick them out. Pheeeeeeeeeeeww! Or I could make everyone real smart and they wouldn't have a chance at all.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wish for things which are either non-existent or very much impossible to get.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So many wishes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If only things like magic really did exist.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/38287712-3003613288241428541?l=27435.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://27435.blogspot.com/feeds/3003613288241428541/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=38287712&amp;postID=3003613288241428541' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38287712/posts/default/3003613288241428541'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38287712/posts/default/3003613288241428541'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://27435.blogspot.com/2007/07/spoilt-little-girl.html' title='Spoilt Little Girl'/><author><name>pastelstargirl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03752400369575078219</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38287712.post-4919871632726074041</id><published>2007-06-29T22:57:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-07-02T20:27:19.352+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Momentaneous</title><content type='html'>Momentaneous.&lt;br /&gt;Short but sweet.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I guess I'm alright.&lt;br /&gt;I hope I'm alright.&lt;br /&gt;I know I'll be alright soon enough.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Whatever it is, and how ever I feel, I'll take things in my stride. I'll have to grow. Grow up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I hope you'll watch and wait until you come around.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Around.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/38287712-4919871632726074041?l=27435.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://27435.blogspot.com/feeds/4919871632726074041/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=38287712&amp;postID=4919871632726074041' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38287712/posts/default/4919871632726074041'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38287712/posts/default/4919871632726074041'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://27435.blogspot.com/2007/06/momentaneous.html' title='Momentaneous'/><author><name>pastelstargirl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03752400369575078219</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38287712.post-888336333659590464</id><published>2007-06-29T22:45:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-06-29T22:56:01.394+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Annoying Little Bugger/s + School = Sigh</title><content type='html'>There's this annoying little bugger who keeps irritating me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How I wish that person would just disappear from the face of my earth!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tsk.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Alright, make that two nasty little buggers.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tsk. Tsk.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If only I would pick them up with my fingers, squash them, squeeze them and then flick them away, like one does with boogers... Haha. That was quite disturbing wasn't it?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can't believe that the first week of term 3 has passed. It was a long week, rushing out my holiday homework and staying back in school. Have to go for Physics remedial tomorrow. Honestly, I'm looking forward. I really wanna catch up on my Physics. I'd better do some self-revision as well. Revise! Revise! Revised!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Haha. I'm laughing at my own retardedness. Can't believe it. &lt;em&gt;Bladder-head&lt;/em&gt;. Haha.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/38287712-888336333659590464?l=27435.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://27435.blogspot.com/feeds/888336333659590464/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=38287712&amp;postID=888336333659590464' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38287712/posts/default/888336333659590464'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38287712/posts/default/888336333659590464'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://27435.blogspot.com/2007/06/annoying-little-buggers-school-sigh.html' title='Annoying Little Bugger/s + School = Sigh'/><author><name>pastelstargirl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03752400369575078219</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38287712.post-8649717712198473663</id><published>2007-06-20T21:40:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-06-24T13:40:08.145+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Homework...</title><content type='html'>You know RV holidays mean lots of homework. This holiday, we haven't got much homework but we've got 3 projects. Since it's the June holidays, nearly everyone's going abroad and that makes project meetings complete failures.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Sigh.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm still left with quite a lot of homework. Look at this:&lt;br /&gt;- &lt;s&gt;Maths worksheet&lt;/s&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- &lt;s&gt;Chemistry project&lt;/s&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- &lt;s&gt;SS assignment&lt;/s&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- &lt;s&gt;Physics mid-year paper&lt;/s&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- &lt;s&gt;Hcl blog entry&lt;/s&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- Hcl project&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mind you, I haven't touched the projects. At all.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I feel so &lt;em&gt;dead&lt;/em&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I need help with the Maths worksheet &amp;amp; Physics mid-year paper. These two pieces of homework seem to be mocking me. It's as though they're laughing at me for not paying attention during lessons. Every word, every line just seems to insult me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I feel like a complete idiot.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Better Luck Next Time... It's as though the song is mocking me too.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/38287712-8649717712198473663?l=27435.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://27435.blogspot.com/feeds/8649717712198473663/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=38287712&amp;postID=8649717712198473663' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38287712/posts/default/8649717712198473663'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38287712/posts/default/8649717712198473663'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://27435.blogspot.com/2007/06/homework.html' title='Homework...'/><author><name>pastelstargirl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03752400369575078219</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38287712.post-7134019934838914455</id><published>2007-06-18T20:32:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-06-18T20:39:05.170+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Better Luck Next Time</title><content type='html'>GO WATCH: &lt;a href="http://youtube.com/watch?v=ul-L1JR2p0g"&gt;http://youtube.com/watch?v=ul-L1JR2p0g&lt;/a&gt;!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Better Luck Next Time by Lifehouse&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sometimes we fall&lt;br /&gt;Ain't nothing new to me&lt;br /&gt;Don't care move on&lt;br /&gt;I'm a son you gave up for this child, now&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Stop tell me where you going&lt;br /&gt;Maybe the one you love isn't there&lt;br /&gt;You're going under&lt;br /&gt;But you're over it all so you don't care about all that I had to see&lt;br /&gt;Watch you wait until you come around&lt;br /&gt;Around&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Don't close your eyes&lt;br /&gt;You need to see it all&lt;br /&gt;It's no surprise&lt;br /&gt;That they break you down&lt;br /&gt;Least they won't give you up&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Stop tell me where you going&lt;br /&gt;Maybe the one you love isn't there&lt;br /&gt;You're going under&lt;br /&gt;But you're over it all so you don't care about all that I had to see&lt;br /&gt;Watch you wait until you come around&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's all wonderful&lt;br /&gt;Living happily&lt;br /&gt;Till you lose it all&lt;br /&gt;Think you have everything&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Stop tell me where you going&lt;br /&gt;Maybe the one you love isn't there&lt;br /&gt;You're going under&lt;br /&gt;But you're over it all so you don't care about all that I had to see&lt;br /&gt;Watch you wait until you come around&lt;br /&gt;Around&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Stop tell me where you going&lt;br /&gt;Maybe the one you love isn't there&lt;br /&gt;You're going under&lt;br /&gt;But you're over it all so you don't care about all that I had to see&lt;br /&gt;Watch you wait until you come around&lt;br /&gt;Around&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's a really &lt;strong&gt;fantastic&lt;/strong&gt; song. I love the sounds made by the guitar. I'm like &lt;em&gt;falling in love&lt;/em&gt; with this song :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/38287712-7134019934838914455?l=27435.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://27435.blogspot.com/feeds/7134019934838914455/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=38287712&amp;postID=7134019934838914455' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38287712/posts/default/7134019934838914455'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38287712/posts/default/7134019934838914455'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://27435.blogspot.com/2007/06/better-luck-next-time.html' title='Better Luck Next Time'/><author><name>pastelstargirl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03752400369575078219</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38287712.post-1392792890448294441</id><published>2007-06-01T17:34:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-06-01T17:53:51.515+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Ariel says See You Soon!</title><content type='html'>&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5071031012421087730" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_hJeZsDi0Nw4/Rl_r1pxZMfI/AAAAAAAAACI/GVn04NtH7KY/s200/DSCN0790.JPG" border="0" /&gt;Ariel says Hi :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Ariel wishes to state that:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She will be in Japan from 1st to 7th June. Close friends who miss her, kindly wait for her call. She assures you that she will DEFINITELY call you, if you're THE ONE.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Calls aside, Ariel would like people from 3A and eldds to know that:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;She will buy souvenirs for you.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Lastly, Ariel seeks the understanding of those who miss her. She would like to clarify that:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She cannot be contacted in Japan.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;She has no scanner and is unable to scan her face to you.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Ariel would like to emphasize that:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Yes, she misses you (all) a hell lot too.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Ariel wishes everyone a pleasant and delightful holiday without her! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Though she doesn't see how you can enjoy yourself without missing a banana like her :P&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/38287712-1392792890448294441?l=27435.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://27435.blogspot.com/feeds/1392792890448294441/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=38287712&amp;postID=1392792890448294441' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38287712/posts/default/1392792890448294441'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38287712/posts/default/1392792890448294441'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://27435.blogspot.com/2007/06/ariel-says-see-you-soon.html' title='Ariel says See You Soon!'/><author><name>pastelstargirl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03752400369575078219</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp0.blogger.com/_hJeZsDi0Nw4/Rl_r1pxZMfI/AAAAAAAAACI/GVn04NtH7KY/s72-c/DSCN0790.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38287712.post-6142341762504995244</id><published>2007-05-27T19:45:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-05-27T20:06:37.044+08:00</updated><title type='text'>3 mere years</title><content type='html'>I can't believe time has passed by so quickly. It's kinda hard to believe that I'm in secondary 3 now...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hand-over.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's gonna come really soon. During open house, I was reflecting. I realised that I have 3 years, just 3 short years to make a change, or make a difference. As a senior member of el, I really hope that before I leave rv, eldds will become like what it used to be. At least, I hope that we excel in everything we do.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There's so much I would like to accomplish, but I'm just afraid there isn't enough time.&lt;br /&gt;There's so much which I think I could and would do for el.&lt;br /&gt;But there is never enough time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I would really want to see every performance a success.&lt;br /&gt;I would like to see us winning competitions.&lt;br /&gt;I would like to have a really bonded cca.&lt;br /&gt;I would really want to see us excelling in drama, debates &amp; backstage.&lt;br /&gt;I wish to see everyone being happy in el.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I seriously hope that el will become the "cream of the crop" in rv, despite the severe lack of "appropriate" school culture &amp; support. I hope for more funding as well... There's so much more I think we can achieve with extra funding.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In 3 years, I hope we can make these dreams turn into reality.&lt;br /&gt;We'll show them that we have all it takes to get there.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/38287712-6142341762504995244?l=27435.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://27435.blogspot.com/feeds/6142341762504995244/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=38287712&amp;postID=6142341762504995244' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38287712/posts/default/6142341762504995244'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38287712/posts/default/6142341762504995244'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://27435.blogspot.com/2007/05/3-mere-years.html' title='3 mere years'/><author><name>pastelstargirl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03752400369575078219</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38287712.post-5498844666666305774</id><published>2007-05-26T22:44:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2007-05-26T22:55:27.779+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Insinuations</title><content type='html'>I hate people who make insinuations.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What do they expect you to do when they make insinuations?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nod your head and go, "oh yes, I agree". Or, smile and accept the "joke".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you often makes derogatory remarks without realizing it, then you're probably the one. You're the tactless person who states whatever that comes to your mind at that point of time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Your insinuations don't really bother me. Girl, it's time to check your attitude and mind. Really dear, you try too hard to make people laugh.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The most entertaining thing? To see you try with everyone around you giving an awkward smile in return. You accept happily, assuming that you've succeeded.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You know I really hate you, when I smile along with you when you insinuate me.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/38287712-5498844666666305774?l=27435.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://27435.blogspot.com/feeds/5498844666666305774/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=38287712&amp;postID=5498844666666305774' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38287712/posts/default/5498844666666305774'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38287712/posts/default/5498844666666305774'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://27435.blogspot.com/2007/05/insinuations.html' title='Insinuations'/><author><name>pastelstargirl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03752400369575078219</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38287712.post-2609262555435525399</id><published>2007-05-26T22:39:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-05-26T22:41:54.884+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Little House</title><content type='html'>&lt;u&gt;Little House - The Fray&lt;/u&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She doesn't look, she doesn't see&lt;br /&gt;Opens up for nobody&lt;br /&gt;Figures out, she figures out&lt;br /&gt;Narrow line, she can't decide&lt;br /&gt;Everything short of suicide&lt;br /&gt;Never hurts, nearly works&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Something is scratching&lt;br /&gt;Its way out&lt;br /&gt;Something you want&lt;br /&gt;To forget about&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;A part of you that'll never show&lt;br /&gt;You're the only one that'll ever know&lt;br /&gt;Take it back when it all began&lt;br /&gt;Take your time, would you understand&lt;br /&gt;What it's all about?&lt;br /&gt;What it's all about?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Something is scratching&lt;br /&gt;Its way out&lt;br /&gt;Something you want&lt;br /&gt;To forget about&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No one expects&lt;br /&gt;You get up&lt;br /&gt;All on your own with&lt;br /&gt;No one around&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Something is scratching&lt;br /&gt;Its way out&lt;br /&gt;Something you want&lt;br /&gt;To forget about&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No one expects&lt;br /&gt;You get up&lt;br /&gt;All on your own with&lt;br /&gt;No one around&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/38287712-2609262555435525399?l=27435.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://27435.blogspot.com/feeds/2609262555435525399/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=38287712&amp;postID=2609262555435525399' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38287712/posts/default/2609262555435525399'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38287712/posts/default/2609262555435525399'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://27435.blogspot.com/2007/05/little-house.html' title='Little House'/><author><name>pastelstargirl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03752400369575078219</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38287712.post-6029910964509802571</id><published>2007-05-22T21:37:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2007-05-22T21:37:32.102+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Trying too hard...</title><content type='html'>And I absolutely detest people who try too hard.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/38287712-6029910964509802571?l=27435.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://27435.blogspot.com/feeds/6029910964509802571/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=38287712&amp;postID=6029910964509802571' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38287712/posts/default/6029910964509802571'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38287712/posts/default/6029910964509802571'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://27435.blogspot.com/2007/05/trying-too-hard.html' title='Trying too hard...'/><author><name>pastelstargirl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03752400369575078219</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38287712.post-6535289955834803347</id><published>2007-05-22T21:05:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-05-22T21:35:44.061+08:00</updated><title type='text'>3 more days to freedom!</title><content type='html'>I'm counting down... It's just 3 more days to "freedom". Not total freedom, but who cares? I needn't go for lessons for 1 month. Whee :) And it's hmm... about 9 more days before I go to Nagasaki. Once again, I'm doing my countdown. Haha.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The days are getting longer though. I practically slept my way through math lesson...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm definitely not looking forward to getting back my papers. Sigh. So disappointing, yet somewhat expected. I feel somewhat hopeless.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tsk.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Left with 49 more books to go. Lol. I guess I could cross out 1 soon. I'm planning to finish "The Remains of the Day" as soon as possible, and start on "Kite Runner".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Okay... This is such a disorganised post.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;#$%$^&amp;amp;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now, moving on to my day at school...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I feel utterly amazed at how limited our vocabulary is. I sat through assembly today, listening to the campaign speeches. I noticed that nearly every candidate was saying "and I am a proud member of (name of cca)" OR "vote wisely" OR "I will do my best". Does anyone know how boring that gets? Or should we have vocabulary lessons? Because I think we seriously need to expand our vocabulary. Inject some interesting words or phrases. Maybe that'll set your speech apart from the rest.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I hate politcally correct speeches.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nothing, NOTHING, irritates me more than hypocrites, politcally correct people who say/do politcally correct things just to be politically correct. When you say you have a right to speak freely, &lt;em&gt;someone&lt;/em&gt; will probably tell you that you need to exercise respect while speaking, and of course, speak with a motive in mind. Like "selling yourself".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I'm for sale. Not only can I cook, clean and be a good slave, I can entertain you as well. So yes, vote for me. I'm the best person for it."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yeah. Like that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why do people who don't believe in whatever they're saying, find it alright to betray yourself in order to gain the likes of others? Isn't it more important to live for yourself, literally? For your own thoughts, beliefs and rights? I think it's fine to say what you want, but you just have to be polite. Well if you are tactful and mindful, then you'd have no problem at all.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When does anyone ever stop once, or twice to think about the issue we're concerned with? Can't we see from another perspective? Or is everyone simply too preoccupied with their own ideas and beliefs?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Open-mindedness... Haha. Practise what you preach. You're our "role models".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sometimes humans can be so screwed up.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/38287712-6535289955834803347?l=27435.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://27435.blogspot.com/feeds/6535289955834803347/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=38287712&amp;postID=6535289955834803347' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38287712/posts/default/6535289955834803347'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38287712/posts/default/6535289955834803347'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://27435.blogspot.com/2007/05/3-more-days-to-freedom.html' title='3 more days to freedom!'/><author><name>pastelstargirl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03752400369575078219</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38287712.post-8637042622019683597</id><published>2007-05-15T21:54:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-05-15T22:12:04.077+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Reading!</title><content type='html'>I've doing quite a bit of reading lately. Finished reading a few of Kazuo Ishiguro's books. I wanna finish reading the "night" novels.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wish I had some discount voucher or something...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, I have been visiting the online news websites to read the headlines and articles. Since nearly everyone says that rv students hardly know any current affairs, I shall &lt;em&gt;attempt&lt;/em&gt; to prove these people wrong. Hahaha.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I shall also read more. Shall set a target of 50 books by end of this year. Seems possible.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/38287712-8637042622019683597?l=27435.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://27435.blogspot.com/feeds/8637042622019683597/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=38287712&amp;postID=8637042622019683597' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38287712/posts/default/8637042622019683597'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38287712/posts/default/8637042622019683597'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://27435.blogspot.com/2007/05/reading.html' title='Reading!'/><author><name>pastelstargirl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03752400369575078219</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38287712.post-546354270755098677</id><published>2007-05-07T19:25:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-05-07T19:34:56.075+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Maths &amp; Physics</title><content type='html'>Okay when I typed the title of this post I swear I could hear CBH's voice and LLM's voice reading the respective subjects. Haha. So funny!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I need to practise maths! Came online to download the practice paper and blog a little.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;SS Paper was alright. Didn't finish my cheesy speech though. As for Bio, darn wasted. Didn't study the last chapter and questions with regard to nutrition came out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;$%@#*&amp;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sigh. Never mind, at least I know I could do it. That makes a difference to me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm seriously crossing my fingers (and heart). I hope I did alright for History &amp; English. Chemistry and HCL was better than expected. But somehow I don't think I did my best.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2 more days to freedom, anyway! Can't wait to buy the &lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;peach pink esprit jacket&lt;/span&gt; :D&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Which reminds me... I gained so much weight. Tsk.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/38287712-546354270755098677?l=27435.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://27435.blogspot.com/feeds/546354270755098677/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=38287712&amp;postID=546354270755098677' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38287712/posts/default/546354270755098677'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38287712/posts/default/546354270755098677'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://27435.blogspot.com/2007/05/maths-physics.html' title='Maths &amp; Physics'/><author><name>pastelstargirl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03752400369575078219</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38287712.post-4700550122207985413</id><published>2007-05-02T21:35:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-05-02T21:51:52.776+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Smash all the phones...</title><content type='html'>There's so much I wanna do after the exams, or at least by this year.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So much!&lt;br /&gt;So much!&lt;br /&gt;So much!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It doesn't seem very likely that I'll be able to do anything that I want to. But then again, I could try.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sigh.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Okay, life looks bleak and completely meaningless right now. Stupid people, stupid commitments. Yet it is worse knowing that some stupid people never fail to reject your plans and give you stupid excuses.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You can never accomplish what you want to.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Bloody hell. I hate phone calls. I absolutely hate it when the bloody house phone rings when I'm doing something. When I have a house next time, I'm not going to buy any bloody phones. A bloody nuisance. Then my irritating mother can't bug me. I hate picking up phone calls.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yeah, life just sucks right now. I'm not contented with anything that I have. To put it plainly, I have nothing at all.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My heart feels dead inside&lt;br /&gt;It's cold and hard and petrified&lt;br /&gt;Lock the doors and close the blinds&lt;br /&gt;We're going for a ride&lt;br /&gt;- I Can't Decide, Scissor Sisters&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How apposite.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/38287712-4700550122207985413?l=27435.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://27435.blogspot.com/feeds/4700550122207985413/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=38287712&amp;postID=4700550122207985413' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38287712/posts/default/4700550122207985413'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38287712/posts/default/4700550122207985413'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://27435.blogspot.com/2007/05/smash-all-phones.html' title='Smash all the phones...'/><author><name>pastelstargirl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03752400369575078219</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38287712.post-4732050953765205660</id><published>2007-05-02T21:23:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-05-02T21:35:10.011+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Hairy Mouse Tails</title><content type='html'>Today's the first day of the IMCB attachment. 1 day down, 2 days to go. There were plenty of tales (tails).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lab coats tails. Anyway, it's kinda fun to wear the white lab coats. Novel experience.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hairy mouse tails. We used a small portion of a mouse's tail to test for TAZ. The tail was hairy and the hairs were spiked  (doesn't that remind you of someone? Haha). I was quite fascinated with the tiny bits of hair and the cross-section of the tails... I guess I am kinda sadistic to a certain extent. Too bad the tails were considered biohazardous.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Will be taking my Chemistry paper &amp; HCL paper on Saturday; followed by biology supplementary class...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;History paper was tough. T-O-U-G-H. Sigh. That's an A gone.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/38287712-4732050953765205660?l=27435.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://27435.blogspot.com/feeds/4732050953765205660/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=38287712&amp;postID=4732050953765205660' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38287712/posts/default/4732050953765205660'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38287712/posts/default/4732050953765205660'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://27435.blogspot.com/2007/05/hairy-mouse-tails.html' title='Hairy Mouse Tails'/><author><name>pastelstargirl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03752400369575078219</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38287712.post-674417496023570790</id><published>2007-04-29T22:10:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-04-29T22:19:42.660+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Accquired Taste</title><content type='html'>I'm looking forward to tomorrow's History paper. Anticipating it, yet worrying about it. I have no idea what to expect, so I just revised all that I could. Hopefully, I'll be able to do well tomorrow.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I never fully experienced the joys of studying until... now? I think studying is quite fun, but only when you study the subjects you enjoy. Studying chinese used to be such pain for me in primary school. Not that I like it now, of course, but it's less painful because I needn't hit the books at all. I wish I only took one subject - History. That'll be damn nice cos I would only need to study History. Haha.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Alright, "nerd" me thinks it's fun to study because that's the only time I enjoy uninterrupted hours of reading &amp; learning. No pesky mother to nag at you, no grandmother to yak beside your ear, no dog to irritate you, no father to make dumb comments and no sister to barge into your room. All I have to do is say "Tsk! My exams are coming." and they'd leave me alone. Finally - yay!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Taken a fancy to bossa nova music. Listen to the second song on my playlist. You may not like it since most people really prefer mainstream pop. Anyhow, it's my "it" song at the moment. Lol.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/38287712-674417496023570790?l=27435.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://27435.blogspot.com/feeds/674417496023570790/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=38287712&amp;postID=674417496023570790' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38287712/posts/default/674417496023570790'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38287712/posts/default/674417496023570790'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://27435.blogspot.com/2007/04/accquired-taste.html' title='Accquired Taste'/><author><name>pastelstargirl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03752400369575078219</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38287712.post-805185740997324646</id><published>2007-04-27T20:06:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-04-27T20:08:08.162+08:00</updated><title type='text'>I don't feel like dancing...</title><content type='html'>I don't feel like &lt;s&gt;dancing&lt;/s&gt; studying.&lt;br /&gt;I suppose it's just a week or two to freedom.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've taken a liking to Scissor Sisters' "I don't feel like dancing" :D Play it!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/38287712-805185740997324646?l=27435.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://27435.blogspot.com/feeds/805185740997324646/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=38287712&amp;postID=805185740997324646' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38287712/posts/default/805185740997324646'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38287712/posts/default/805185740997324646'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://27435.blogspot.com/2007/04/i-dont-feel-like-dancing.html' title='I don&apos;t feel like dancing...'/><author><name>pastelstargirl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03752400369575078219</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38287712.post-5112224952790631268</id><published>2007-04-27T20:02:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-04-27T20:06:29.306+08:00</updated><title type='text'>SYF 2007</title><content type='html'>We managed a Bronze. But that's alright.&lt;br /&gt;I've learnt a lot through this experience &amp;amp; I'm sure the others did too.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can safely say that this whole journey made me &lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;love eldds&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt; all over again :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;I ♥ eL!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/38287712-5112224952790631268?l=27435.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://27435.blogspot.com/feeds/5112224952790631268/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=38287712&amp;postID=5112224952790631268' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38287712/posts/default/5112224952790631268'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38287712/posts/default/5112224952790631268'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://27435.blogspot.com/2007/04/syf-2007.html' title='SYF 2007'/><author><name>pastelstargirl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03752400369575078219</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38287712.post-821928657923988531</id><published>2007-04-15T22:05:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-04-15T22:06:48.216+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Passiveness gets the worse of me</title><content type='html'>I hate it when people are passive.&lt;br /&gt;I hate passive people.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/38287712-821928657923988531?l=27435.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://27435.blogspot.com/feeds/821928657923988531/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=38287712&amp;postID=821928657923988531' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38287712/posts/default/821928657923988531'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38287712/posts/default/821928657923988531'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://27435.blogspot.com/2007/04/passiveness-gets-worse-of-me.html' title='Passiveness gets the worse of me'/><author><name>pastelstargirl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03752400369575078219</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38287712.post-3983306660587166446</id><published>2007-04-14T23:45:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-04-14T23:54:40.048+08:00</updated><title type='text'>菊花台</title><content type='html'>菊花台 - 周杰伦&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;你的泪光柔弱中带伤&lt;br /&gt;惨白的月儿弯弯固住过往&lt;br /&gt;夜太漫长凝结成了霜&lt;br /&gt;是谁在阁楼上冰冷地绝望&lt;br /&gt;雨轻轻叹朱红色的窗&lt;br /&gt;我依身在纸上被风吹乱&lt;br /&gt;梦在远方化成一缕香&lt;br /&gt;随风飘散你的模样&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;菊花灿烂地烧&lt;br /&gt;你的笑容已泛黄&lt;br /&gt;花落人断肠&lt;br /&gt;我心事静静躺&lt;br /&gt;被风乱也微摇&lt;br /&gt;你的影子剪不断&lt;br /&gt;独留我孤单在湖面神伤&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;花已伤完&lt;br /&gt;飘落了灿烂&lt;br /&gt;凋谢的市道上冥冥不堪&lt;br /&gt;手摸独樵愁心拆两半&lt;br /&gt;他已上不了爱一辈子摇晃&lt;br /&gt;谁的江山马蹄声慌乱&lt;br /&gt;我一身的戎装呼啸沧桑&lt;br /&gt;天微微亮你轻声的叹&lt;br /&gt;一夜惆怅如此委婉&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;菊花灿烂地烧&lt;br /&gt;你的笑容已泛黄&lt;br /&gt;花落人断肠&lt;br /&gt;我心事静静躺&lt;br /&gt;被风乱也微摇&lt;br /&gt;你的影子剪不断&lt;br /&gt;独留我孤单在湖面神伤&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;菊花灿烂地烧&lt;br /&gt;你的笑容已泛黄&lt;br /&gt;花落人断肠&lt;br /&gt;我心事静静躺&lt;br /&gt;被风乱也微摇&lt;br /&gt;你的影子剪不断&lt;br /&gt;独留我孤单在湖面神伤&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/38287712-3983306660587166446?l=27435.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://27435.blogspot.com/feeds/3983306660587166446/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=38287712&amp;postID=3983306660587166446' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38287712/posts/default/3983306660587166446'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38287712/posts/default/3983306660587166446'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://27435.blogspot.com/2007/04/blog-post.html' title='菊花台'/><author><name>pastelstargirl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03752400369575078219</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38287712.post-1187197898202938507</id><published>2007-04-14T22:55:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-04-14T23:11:37.532+08:00</updated><title type='text'>SYF '07: 11 April 2007</title><content type='html'>This is a belated SYF post which I had intended to type it out on Wednesday, right after SYF. I didn't type this out because I knew I would be crying while I typed. It took me quite a few days to control my emotions and today I've finally got the courage to type this post.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We haven't gotten our results yet, but that's not the issue I'm concerned with.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've been very sentimental lately. Reminisced about the past 2 years I spent in el and did some reflections, of course. Sigh.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't know. I am glad that I managed to regain my passion. But I regret some things I did, some words I said. I feel lost as to what I should do. When the deed is done, there is a price to be paid.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can't accept the fact that SYF is over in a matter of a mere 20 minutes. 5 months of preparations, 20 minutes to perform; 1 moment to shine.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I miss being on stage. I miss acting the scenes over and over again. I miss hanging out with "my gang" and practising our laughs and movements. I miss the whole process. I miss the pains of juggling both drama and debates. I miss the fun I had everytime I put on my costume. I miss that slight fear of Renee everytime she attempts to put makeup on me. I miss poking fun at BO boy. I miss jumping around. I miss LT1. I miss EL. I miss everyone in EL. I miss the cast, the crew. Everyone. Every moment.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Like Grace, I wish I could turn back time. If I had the power to do so, I would turn it back. All the way when I first started. All the way back in sec 1. I would change what I could. Change everything. Change the chain of events. I would.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Waimin is right. When you've lost it before, you'll treasure it even more.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/38287712-1187197898202938507?l=27435.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://27435.blogspot.com/feeds/1187197898202938507/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=38287712&amp;postID=1187197898202938507' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38287712/posts/default/1187197898202938507'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38287712/posts/default/1187197898202938507'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://27435.blogspot.com/2007/04/syf-07-11-april-2007.html' title='SYF &apos;07: 11 April 2007'/><author><name>pastelstargirl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03752400369575078219</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38287712.post-1084274397154737102</id><published>2007-04-09T22:52:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-04-09T23:10:11.029+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Never let it go.</title><content type='html'>SYF judging date is nearing...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;EL's all that's on my mind right now. Maths homework can wait. The itch, well, the itch can just remain itchy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I hate to think about my sec 1 &amp; 2 life in eldds. I can't believe that I ever once thought of quitting eldds.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've lost my passion for eldds so many times before. It's so easy to lose your passion. I don't know what was in my mind then, but it seemed so easy to hate going for cca. I hated the drama games. Hated the people. Hated everything.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I never thought that I could get it back. I always thought I've lost it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've lost it before but now, I've got it back.&lt;br /&gt;I will hold onto it and believe in it and never ever let go of it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Passion is like a never-dying flame.&lt;br /&gt;It burns really brightly sometimes.&lt;br /&gt;And it becomes weak at times.&lt;br /&gt;However, it never goes out.&lt;br /&gt;If it goes out, don't let it remain like that.&lt;br /&gt;The most important thing is to keep it burning again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No matter how far the destination is, no matter how long it will take, we will get there.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/38287712-1084274397154737102?l=27435.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://27435.blogspot.com/feeds/1084274397154737102/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=38287712&amp;postID=1084274397154737102' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38287712/posts/default/1084274397154737102'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38287712/posts/default/1084274397154737102'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://27435.blogspot.com/2007/04/never-let-it-go.html' title='Never let it go.'/><author><name>pastelstargirl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03752400369575078219</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38287712.post-3042614918159583229</id><published>2007-04-08T16:30:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-04-14T23:42:06.009+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Happy Birthday, Wan Jhuen!</title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#ff9900;"&gt;HAPPY BIRTHDAY VERONICA :)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;[My dear B2 is now 15 years old! And yes, I wanna celebrate your birthday after our SYF judging's over :]&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, I slept for 3 hours straight. Feels nice. Now's the time to finish up all the homework and study for Chemistry test.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Wished I had money to buy everything I want. Sigh.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/38287712-3042614918159583229?l=27435.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://27435.blogspot.com/feeds/3042614918159583229/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=38287712&amp;postID=3042614918159583229' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38287712/posts/default/3042614918159583229'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38287712/posts/default/3042614918159583229'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://27435.blogspot.com/2007/04/happy-birthday-veronica-my-dear-b2-is.html' title='Happy Birthday, Wan Jhuen!'/><author><name>pastelstargirl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03752400369575078219</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38287712.post-7509063825340118945</id><published>2007-04-07T23:32:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-04-07T23:44:49.032+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Just A Girl - No Doubt</title><content type='html'>Take this pink ribbon off my eyes&lt;br /&gt;I'm exposed&lt;br /&gt;And its no big surprise&lt;br /&gt;Don't you think I know&lt;br /&gt;Exactly where I stand&lt;br /&gt;This world is forcing me&lt;br /&gt;To hold your hand&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;'Cause I'm just a girl, oh little 'ol me&lt;br /&gt;Well don't let me out of your sight&lt;br /&gt;Oh I'm just a girl, all pretty and petite&lt;br /&gt;So don't let me have any rights&lt;br /&gt;Oh... I've had it up to here!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The moment that I step outside&lt;br /&gt;So many reasons&lt;br /&gt;For me to run and hide&lt;br /&gt;I can't do the little things I hold so dear&lt;br /&gt;'Cause its all those little things&lt;br /&gt;That I fear&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;'Cause I'm just a girl,&lt;br /&gt;I'd rather not be&lt;br /&gt;'Cause they wont let me drive&lt;br /&gt;Late at night&lt;br /&gt;Oh I'm just a girl,&lt;br /&gt;Guess I'm some kind of freak&lt;br /&gt;'Cause they all sit and stare&lt;br /&gt;With their eyes&lt;br /&gt;Oh I'm just a girl,&lt;br /&gt;Take a good look at me&lt;br /&gt;Just your typical prototype&lt;br /&gt;Oh... I've had it up to here!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh... Am I making myself clear?&lt;br /&gt;I'm just a girl&lt;br /&gt;I'm just a girl in the world...&lt;br /&gt;That's all that you'll let me be!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh I'm just a girl, living in captivity&lt;br /&gt;Your rule of thumb&lt;br /&gt;Makes me worrisome&lt;br /&gt;Oh I'm just a girl, what's my destiny?&lt;br /&gt;What I've succumbed to&lt;br /&gt;Is making me numb&lt;br /&gt;Oh I'm just a girl, my apologies&lt;br /&gt;What I've become is so burdensome&lt;br /&gt;Oh I'm just a girl, lucky me&lt;br /&gt;Twiddle-dum there's no comparison&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh... I've had it up to!&lt;br /&gt;Oh... I've had it up to!!&lt;br /&gt;Oh oh oh oh oh ... I've had it up to here.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/38287712-7509063825340118945?l=27435.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://27435.blogspot.com/feeds/7509063825340118945/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=38287712&amp;postID=7509063825340118945' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38287712/posts/default/7509063825340118945'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38287712/posts/default/7509063825340118945'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://27435.blogspot.com/2007/04/just-girl-no-doubt.html' title='Just A Girl - No Doubt'/><author><name>pastelstargirl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03752400369575078219</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38287712.post-8653644190989990849</id><published>2007-04-07T23:24:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-04-07T23:31:55.757+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Hester's Birthday!</title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;HAPPY BIRTHDAY HESTER :)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today's rehearsal was quite good. I can see our progression!&lt;br /&gt;EL can do it!&lt;br /&gt;EL will do it!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;EL is gonna rock ACS Barker's stage on 11 April!&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Whee ;)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Took a few photos today. Save for some horrid ones, the rest were quite nice.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's been a long time since I felt this way.&lt;br /&gt;Perhaps it takes time. Perhaps, perhaps, perhaps...&lt;br /&gt;I will try.&lt;br /&gt;I want to.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;I just have to get it back.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/38287712-8653644190989990849?l=27435.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://27435.blogspot.com/feeds/8653644190989990849/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=38287712&amp;postID=8653644190989990849' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38287712/posts/default/8653644190989990849'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38287712/posts/default/8653644190989990849'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://27435.blogspot.com/2007/04/hesters-birthday.html' title='Hester&apos;s Birthday!'/><author><name>pastelstargirl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03752400369575078219</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38287712.post-2534881066315813826</id><published>2007-04-06T21:40:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-04-06T21:42:29.397+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Miss me? A scanner, please.</title><content type='html'>I should think that a scanner is highly useful.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you miss me, just tell me that you miss me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I would...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1) Turn on my scanner&lt;br /&gt;2) Close my eyes&lt;br /&gt;3) Scan my face&lt;br /&gt;4) Send it to you&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Perhaps after seeing my scanned face, you wouldn't miss me anymore ;)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/38287712-2534881066315813826?l=27435.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://27435.blogspot.com/feeds/2534881066315813826/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=38287712&amp;postID=2534881066315813826' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38287712/posts/default/2534881066315813826'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38287712/posts/default/2534881066315813826'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://27435.blogspot.com/2007/04/miss-me-scanner-please.html' title='Miss me? A scanner, please.'/><author><name>pastelstargirl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03752400369575078219</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38287712.post-2688353801030397590</id><published>2007-04-06T21:31:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-04-06T21:36:21.938+08:00</updated><title type='text'>You've got it all wrong, girl</title><content type='html'>Finally, when I open my eyes to see...&lt;br /&gt;I see your true colours shining through.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Your true colours aren't pretty.&lt;br /&gt;There's a mixture of evil, a solution of jealousy and a compound made of envy, all swirling in a mask known as "your face".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then again, I look back and realise that you were never pretty to begin with.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I could only say to myself, "You've got it all wrong, girl".&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/38287712-2688353801030397590?l=27435.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://27435.blogspot.com/feeds/2688353801030397590/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=38287712&amp;postID=2688353801030397590' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38287712/posts/default/2688353801030397590'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38287712/posts/default/2688353801030397590'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://27435.blogspot.com/2007/04/youve-got-it-all-wrong-girl.html' title='You&apos;ve got it all wrong, girl'/><author><name>pastelstargirl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03752400369575078219</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38287712.post-8583079788325070186</id><published>2007-04-06T21:01:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-04-06T21:16:39.889+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Indecently Decent</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_hJeZsDi0Nw4/RhZHkw0lgdI/AAAAAAAAAB4/rFWwGZTIMPc/s1600-h/Photo-0086.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5050302729048916434" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_hJeZsDi0Nw4/RhZHkw0lgdI/AAAAAAAAAB4/rFWwGZTIMPc/s200/Photo-0086.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5050301217220428178" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_hJeZsDi0Nw4/RhZGMw0lgZI/AAAAAAAAABY/DyujwSBcCCY/s200/Image013.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5050301221515395490" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_hJeZsDi0Nw4/RhZGNA0lgaI/AAAAAAAAABg/bwDoLer5_J4/s200/Image014.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5050301367544283570" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_hJeZsDi0Nw4/RhZGVg0lgbI/AAAAAAAAABo/uFpQxYAtiYI/s200/Photo-0113.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5050303304574534114" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_hJeZsDi0Nw4/RhZIGQ0lgeI/AAAAAAAAACA/RQ1wFYN3K-w/s200/Photo-0118.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/38287712-8583079788325070186?l=27435.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://27435.blogspot.com/feeds/8583079788325070186/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=38287712&amp;postID=8583079788325070186' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38287712/posts/default/8583079788325070186'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38287712/posts/default/8583079788325070186'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://27435.blogspot.com/2007/04/indecently-decent.html' title='Indecently Decent'/><author><name>pastelstargirl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03752400369575078219</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp0.blogger.com/_hJeZsDi0Nw4/RhZHkw0lgdI/AAAAAAAAAB4/rFWwGZTIMPc/s72-c/Photo-0086.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38287712.post-5497170324775860718</id><published>2007-04-05T16:15:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-04-05T16:18:35.017+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Sick Bay</title><content type='html'>I wonder what the others did in school today. I hope the Physics Reading &amp; Writing Test was easy...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sleeping is fun, but when you get enough of it, you get tired of it. I have completely nothing to do right now. Perhaps I'll go study bio later.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sigh. Life at home can be so boring.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/38287712-5497170324775860718?l=27435.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://27435.blogspot.com/feeds/5497170324775860718/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=38287712&amp;postID=5497170324775860718' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38287712/posts/default/5497170324775860718'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38287712/posts/default/5497170324775860718'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://27435.blogspot.com/2007/04/sick-bay.html' title='Sick Bay'/><author><name>pastelstargirl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03752400369575078219</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38287712.post-6445412292045708929</id><published>2007-04-04T22:22:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-04-04T22:29:28.535+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Reality Check</title><content type='html'>Do a reality check.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Illlogical?&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Check.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Irrational?&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Check.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Senseless?&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Check.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Alright baby, you're ready to visit the "criticise-in-silence" theme park! Bring along a friend in tow and experience a thrill ride. Admission is &lt;em&gt;free&lt;/em&gt;!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;WARNING: Consequences and outcomes not predictable.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;u&gt;Oh yes, it is a game.&lt;/u&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/38287712-6445412292045708929?l=27435.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://27435.blogspot.com/feeds/6445412292045708929/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=38287712&amp;postID=6445412292045708929' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38287712/posts/default/6445412292045708929'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38287712/posts/default/6445412292045708929'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://27435.blogspot.com/2007/04/reality-check.html' title='Reality Check'/><author><name>pastelstargirl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03752400369575078219</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38287712.post-8026923276353500094</id><published>2007-04-01T15:33:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-04-01T15:40:01.707+08:00</updated><title type='text'>A worker at the back of a lorry</title><content type='html'>We had syf rehearsal yesterday and Grace &amp; I turned up late. On bus 97, I was feeling &lt;em&gt;bored&lt;/em&gt;. I spotted a worker sitting at the back of a lorry. He was alone and he seemed equally &lt;em&gt;bored&lt;/em&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Deciding to be funny, I pointed at him and told Grace, "Hey Grace! That's your friend!".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Grace promptly turned her head to look at him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The worker saw me pointing at him.&lt;br /&gt;He looked at us.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;He raised his eyebrows.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;He nodded.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He acknowledged our existence.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;And he gave&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;s&gt;us&lt;/s&gt; &lt;strong&gt;Grace a cheeky look!&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wasn't that funny? And I burst in laughter after seeing what the worker did.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was chewing on a piece of haribo at that time. I laughed so hard that tiny bits of haribo flew out and landed on a man's shirt and my face. The innocent victim was sitting in front of Grace.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That was really funny.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And I giggled nearly non stop when we were on our way home. I couldn't stand it, some people are just so &lt;em&gt;urgh&lt;/em&gt;... Haha.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/38287712-8026923276353500094?l=27435.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://27435.blogspot.com/feeds/8026923276353500094/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=38287712&amp;postID=8026923276353500094' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38287712/posts/default/8026923276353500094'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38287712/posts/default/8026923276353500094'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://27435.blogspot.com/2007/04/worker-at-back-of-lorry.html' title='A worker at the back of a lorry'/><author><name>pastelstargirl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03752400369575078219</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38287712.post-6311386096288977118</id><published>2007-03-30T21:50:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-04-01T15:56:23.822+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Red Crumpler</title><content type='html'>Haha. I got a &lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;red &lt;span style="color:#666666;"&gt;barney rustle blanket&lt;/span&gt; crumpler&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt; today ;)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;I ♥ MY BARNEY RUSTLE BLANKET :)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thanks!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/38287712-6311386096288977118?l=27435.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://27435.blogspot.com/feeds/6311386096288977118/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=38287712&amp;postID=6311386096288977118' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38287712/posts/default/6311386096288977118'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38287712/posts/default/6311386096288977118'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://27435.blogspot.com/2007/03/red-crumpler.html' title='Red Crumpler'/><author><name>pastelstargirl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03752400369575078219</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38287712.post-5082868527503064586</id><published>2007-03-26T20:42:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-03-26T21:02:17.526+08:00</updated><title type='text'>You just don't have it.</title><content type='html'>&lt;em&gt;Do I even know you? &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You're different.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They attest to your "talents".&lt;br /&gt;They say you can.&lt;br /&gt;They'd say work hard; try harder.&lt;br /&gt;They say "have faith in yourself".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Do you?&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, you said you tried.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Did you?&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You wanted to show everyone what you are made of. Eager to please, willing to try.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;But was it just an equation of hard work + willingness = success?&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You could never answer that question.&lt;br /&gt;You did try but you said that they could not tell.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Discouraged.&lt;br /&gt;Disappointed.&lt;br /&gt;Tired.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;How long does it take to try?&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Try again?&lt;br /&gt;Try harder?&lt;br /&gt;Try your best?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Sorry, you're not getting a response from the user.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You thought that I would understand you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Perhaps I do.&lt;br /&gt;Perhaps I don't.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Please, try again later?&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Does it matter anymore?&lt;br /&gt;Yes it does.&lt;br /&gt;No it doesn't.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At this point of time, what you say and what you do does not matter anymore.&lt;br /&gt;You live the words of others by the words of others, for others.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Do you still have the determination to carry on?&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Do I still know you?&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have no idea.&lt;br /&gt;"You just don't have it."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/38287712-5082868527503064586?l=27435.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://27435.blogspot.com/feeds/5082868527503064586/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=38287712&amp;postID=5082868527503064586' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38287712/posts/default/5082868527503064586'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38287712/posts/default/5082868527503064586'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://27435.blogspot.com/2007/03/you-just-dont-have-it.html' title='You just don&apos;t have it.'/><author><name>pastelstargirl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03752400369575078219</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38287712.post-9158686783524480145</id><published>2007-03-24T23:14:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-03-24T23:19:01.367+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Situation's Heavy</title><content type='html'>One song says it all.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;u&gt;Situation's Heavy - Sugababes&lt;/u&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Making decisions about my life&lt;br /&gt;It's up to me and I start to try&lt;br /&gt;I can't keep running away&lt;br /&gt;Trust my instincts right or wrong&lt;br /&gt;Refusing help try to be strong&lt;br /&gt;I'll fight this one today&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here's my point of view&lt;br /&gt;Wouldn't wanna offend you&lt;br /&gt;Wanna do the best to prove&lt;br /&gt;Push your face ain't gonna lose&lt;br /&gt;Deep and twisted but I refuse&lt;br /&gt;Don't want advice but help to choose&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'll just walk these tracks alone&lt;br /&gt;Use it as a stepping stone&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Chorus:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Trying to face it all alone&lt;br /&gt;Had to find my own way home&lt;br /&gt;No matter how hard it may be&lt;br /&gt;The situation's heavy&lt;br /&gt;I'm not growing old before my time&lt;br /&gt;Even when there's warning signs&lt;br /&gt;That consequently I can see&lt;br /&gt;The situation's heavy, heavy&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How am I supposed to know&lt;br /&gt;Where I want my life to go&lt;br /&gt;If you always hold the plan&lt;br /&gt;And maybe I will learn to lead&lt;br /&gt;It will be my own mistakes&lt;br /&gt;That I can say that's who I am&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here's my point of view&lt;br /&gt;Wouldn't wanna offend you&lt;br /&gt;Wanna do the best to prove&lt;br /&gt;Push your face ain't gonna lose&lt;br /&gt;Deep and twisted but I refuse&lt;br /&gt;Don't want advice but help to choose&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'll just walk these tracks alone&lt;br /&gt;Use it as a stepping stone&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Chorus:&lt;br /&gt;Trying to face it all alone&lt;br /&gt;Had to find my own way home&lt;br /&gt;No matter how hard it may be&lt;br /&gt;The situation's heavy&lt;br /&gt;I'm not growing old before my time&lt;br /&gt;Even when there's warning signs&lt;br /&gt;That consequently I can see&lt;br /&gt;The situation's heavy, heavy&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;oooh etc&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here's my point of view&lt;br /&gt;Wouldn't wanna offend you&lt;br /&gt;Wanna do the best to prove&lt;br /&gt;Push your face ain't gonna lose&lt;br /&gt;Deep and twisted but I refuse&lt;br /&gt;Don't want advice but help to choose&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'll just walk these tracks alone&lt;br /&gt;Use it as a stepping stone&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Chorus:&lt;br /&gt;Trying to face it all alone&lt;br /&gt;Had to find my own way home&lt;br /&gt;No matter how hard it may be&lt;br /&gt;The situation's heavy&lt;br /&gt;I'm not growing old before my time&lt;br /&gt;Even when there's warning signs&lt;br /&gt;That consequently I can see&lt;br /&gt;The situation's heavy&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Trying to face it all alone&lt;br /&gt;Had to find my own way home&lt;br /&gt;No matter how hard it may be&lt;br /&gt;The situation's heavy&lt;br /&gt;I'm not growing old before my time&lt;br /&gt;Even when there's warning signs&lt;br /&gt;That consequently I can see&lt;br /&gt;The situation's heavy, heavy&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/38287712-9158686783524480145?l=27435.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://27435.blogspot.com/feeds/9158686783524480145/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=38287712&amp;postID=9158686783524480145' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38287712/posts/default/9158686783524480145'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38287712/posts/default/9158686783524480145'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://27435.blogspot.com/2007/03/situations-heavy.html' title='Situation&apos;s Heavy'/><author><name>pastelstargirl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03752400369575078219</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38287712.post-4740147063522821143</id><published>2007-03-18T11:31:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-03-18T16:33:44.573+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Is it really tomorrow?</title><content type='html'>I can hardly believe that the holidays are ending. Back to school life as usual.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Left with &lt;s&gt;physics article&lt;/s&gt;, &lt;s&gt;english speech&lt;/s&gt;, &lt;s&gt;maths constellation assignment&lt;/s&gt;, maths worksheet assignment &amp;amp; &lt;s&gt;summary worksheet&lt;/s&gt;. All to be completed by today.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well I guess I could.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/38287712-4740147063522821143?l=27435.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://27435.blogspot.com/feeds/4740147063522821143/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=38287712&amp;postID=4740147063522821143' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38287712/posts/default/4740147063522821143'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38287712/posts/default/4740147063522821143'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://27435.blogspot.com/2007/03/is-it-really-tomorrow.html' title='Is it really tomorrow?'/><author><name>pastelstargirl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03752400369575078219</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38287712.post-4833750334434068177</id><published>2007-03-17T23:11:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-03-17T23:18:14.334+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Delirium</title><content type='html'>State of delirium = 729% deliriousness&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Just as much as I enjoy it.&lt;br /&gt;Live for the future.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/38287712-4833750334434068177?l=27435.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://27435.blogspot.com/feeds/4833750334434068177/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=38287712&amp;postID=4833750334434068177' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38287712/posts/default/4833750334434068177'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38287712/posts/default/4833750334434068177'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://27435.blogspot.com/2007/03/delirium.html' title='Delirium'/><author><name>pastelstargirl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03752400369575078219</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38287712.post-8987704034831896</id><published>2007-03-16T21:00:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-03-16T21:03:16.994+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Super Retard</title><content type='html'>I seriously live up to my name, Super Retard.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I cannot imagine that I left my swimming costume in a bag for 4 months. And now there's fungus on it. I have no choice but to throw it away. I'm so freaking retarded.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Stupidity aside, I'm honestly happy to buy a new two-piece. And I'll have to keep myself busy by trying to lose weight.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mmm, better days are ahead!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/38287712-8987704034831896?l=27435.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://27435.blogspot.com/feeds/8987704034831896/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=38287712&amp;postID=8987704034831896' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38287712/posts/default/8987704034831896'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38287712/posts/default/8987704034831896'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://27435.blogspot.com/2007/03/super-retard.html' title='Super Retard'/><author><name>pastelstargirl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03752400369575078219</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38287712.post-5272583564409604308</id><published>2007-03-16T01:02:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-03-16T01:07:04.105+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Breathing - Lifehouse</title><content type='html'>I'm finding my way back to sanity again&lt;br /&gt;Though I don't really know what I'm gonna do when I get there&lt;br /&gt;I take a breath and hold on tight&lt;br /&gt;Spin around one more time&lt;br /&gt;And gracefully fall back to the arms of grace&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Cause I am hanging on every word you're saying&lt;br /&gt;Even if you don't wanna speak tonight&lt;br /&gt;That's alright, alright with me&lt;br /&gt;Cause I want nothing more than to sit outside heaven's door&lt;br /&gt;And listen to you breathing&lt;br /&gt;Its where I wanna be, yeah&lt;br /&gt;Where I wanna be&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm looking past the shadows in my mind into the truth&lt;br /&gt;And I'm trying to identify the voices in my head&lt;br /&gt;God wish you won't you&lt;br /&gt;Let me feel one more time what if feels like to feel without&lt;br /&gt;And break these calluses off me one more time&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cause I am hanging on every word you're saying&lt;br /&gt;Even if you don't wanna speak tonight&lt;br /&gt;That's alright, alright with me&lt;br /&gt;Cause I want nothing more than to sit outside of your door&lt;br /&gt;And listen to you breathing&lt;br /&gt;Its where I wanna be, yeah&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh I don't want a thing from you&lt;br /&gt;Bet you're tired of me waiting for&lt;br /&gt;The scraps to fall off of your table to the ground&lt;br /&gt;La la la...&lt;br /&gt;Cause I just wanna be here now&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cause I am hanging on every word you're saying&lt;br /&gt;Even if you don't wanna speak tonight&lt;br /&gt;That's alright, alright with me&lt;br /&gt;Cause I want nothing more than to sit outside heaven's door&lt;br /&gt;And listen to you breathing&lt;br /&gt;Its where I wanna be, yeah&lt;br /&gt;Where I wanna be&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cause I am hanging on every word you're saying&lt;br /&gt;Even if you don't wanna speak tonight&lt;br /&gt;That's alright, alright with me&lt;br /&gt;Cause I want nothing more than to sit outside heaven's door&lt;br /&gt;And listen to you breathing&lt;br /&gt;Its where I wanna be, yeah&lt;br /&gt;Where I wanna be&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/38287712-5272583564409604308?l=27435.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://27435.blogspot.com/feeds/5272583564409604308/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=38287712&amp;postID=5272583564409604308' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38287712/posts/default/5272583564409604308'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38287712/posts/default/5272583564409604308'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://27435.blogspot.com/2007/03/breathing-lifehouse.html' title='Breathing - Lifehouse'/><author><name>pastelstargirl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03752400369575078219</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38287712.post-4489895742361750409</id><published>2007-03-16T00:53:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-03-16T01:15:14.663+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Tom Dick &amp; Harry's Ice Cream Stall</title><content type='html'>In order to protect some inncocent man, a name has been substituted with a *.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;oh the love; says:&lt;br /&gt;ps! i wanna eat ben&amp;jerry's ice cream&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;oh the love; says:&lt;br /&gt;omg i almost typed tom&amp;jerry's&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;oh the love; says:&lt;br /&gt;*beams*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;729% deliriousness ! [disCo:] says:&lt;br /&gt;o.o&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;oh the love; says:&lt;br /&gt;OF COURSE!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;oh the love; says:&lt;br /&gt;i'm cute&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;729% deliriousness ! [disCo:] says:&lt;br /&gt;eyes wide open&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;729% deliriousness ! [disCo:] says:&lt;br /&gt;lol&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;oh the love; says:&lt;br /&gt;lalalalallalala&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;729% deliriousness ! [disCo:] says:&lt;br /&gt;0.0 tom&amp;jerry?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;729% deliriousness ! [disCo:] says:&lt;br /&gt;how about tomdick&amp;amp;harry&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;729% deliriousness ! [disCo:] says:&lt;br /&gt;lol&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;oh the love; says:&lt;br /&gt;omg&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;oh the love; says:&lt;br /&gt;imagine the person asking&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;oh the love; says:&lt;br /&gt;hi welcome to tom dick and harry's ice cream stall&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;oh the love; says:&lt;br /&gt;so which one do you want?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;729% deliriousness ! [disCo:] says:&lt;br /&gt;tom dick or harrry&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;oh the love; says:&lt;br /&gt;tom? dick? Or...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;oh the love; says:&lt;br /&gt;harry's ice cream?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;oh the love; says:&lt;br /&gt;WAHAHAHAHHAHA&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;729% deliriousness ! [disCo:] says:&lt;br /&gt;imagine the names of the ice cream!!!! lol&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;729% deliriousness ! [disCo:] says:&lt;br /&gt;lemme tell you one&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;729% deliriousness ! [disCo:] says:&lt;br /&gt;harry's hairy delight&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;729% deliriousness ! [disCo:] says:&lt;br /&gt;LOL&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;729% deliriousness ! [disCo:] says:&lt;br /&gt;tom's dick flavour&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;729% deliriousness ! [disCo:] says:&lt;br /&gt;retard-haha&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;oh the love; says:&lt;br /&gt;omg.............!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;oh the love; says:&lt;br /&gt;OMG.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;729% deliriousness ! [disCo:] says:&lt;br /&gt;lol&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;oh the love; says:&lt;br /&gt;ewwwwwwwww.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;oh the love; says:&lt;br /&gt;the ice cream willbe full of hairs sticking out&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;oh the love; says:&lt;br /&gt;gawd!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;729% deliriousness ! [disCo:] says:&lt;br /&gt;LOL&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;729% deliriousness ! [disCo:] says:&lt;br /&gt;mm i love retarded convos&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;729% deliriousness ! [disCo:] says:&lt;br /&gt;lol&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;oh the love; says:&lt;br /&gt;saaaaaaaaaaaaaame!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;oh the love; says:&lt;br /&gt;where do we get ben and jerry's ice cream?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;729% deliriousness ! [disCo:] says:&lt;br /&gt;hmm toilet&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;729% deliriousness ! [disCo:] says:&lt;br /&gt;supermarket&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;oh the love; says:&lt;br /&gt;yeah right.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;oh the love; says:&lt;br /&gt;from tom dick and harry&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;729% deliriousness ! [disCo:] says:&lt;br /&gt;LOL&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;729% deliriousness ! [disCo:] says:&lt;br /&gt;o.o"""""&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;729% deliriousness ! [disCo:] says:&lt;br /&gt;that has gotta be the lamest thing i've ever heard&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;729% deliriousness ! [disCo:] says:&lt;br /&gt;i'll add into the entry&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;oh the love; says:&lt;br /&gt;tom dick and harry's supermarket&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;oh the love; says:&lt;br /&gt;specialises in ice cream&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;oh the love; says:&lt;br /&gt;hairy ones&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;oh the love; says:&lt;br /&gt;dicky ones&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;oh the love; says:&lt;br /&gt;tommy ones!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;oh the love; says:&lt;br /&gt;muahahahhaha&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;729% deliriousness ! [disCo:] says:&lt;br /&gt;-.-""""&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;729% deliriousness ! [disCo:] says:&lt;br /&gt;ohmy&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;729% deliriousness ! [disCo:] says:&lt;br /&gt;grace&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;729% deliriousness ! [disCo:] says:&lt;br /&gt;you're seriously gay&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;oh the love; says:&lt;br /&gt;lalala!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;oh the love; says:&lt;br /&gt;ohyes&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;oh the love; says:&lt;br /&gt;and i'm cute too!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;oh the love; says:&lt;br /&gt;I'm a cute gay!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;oh the love; says:&lt;br /&gt;ahh but that does NOT mean i'll hook up with gay *&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;oh the love; says:&lt;br /&gt;i've got better taste!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/38287712-4489895742361750409?l=27435.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://27435.blogspot.com/feeds/4489895742361750409/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=38287712&amp;postID=4489895742361750409' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38287712/posts/default/4489895742361750409'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38287712/posts/default/4489895742361750409'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://27435.blogspot.com/2007/03/tom-dick-harrys-ice-cream-stall.html' title='Tom Dick &amp; Harry&apos;s Ice Cream Stall'/><author><name>pastelstargirl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03752400369575078219</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38287712.post-2204317017618611084</id><published>2007-03-15T23:37:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-03-16T00:56:11.691+08:00</updated><title type='text'>15 years!</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;15 years.&lt;br /&gt;5475 days.&lt;br /&gt;131400 hours.&lt;br /&gt;7884000 minutes.&lt;br /&gt;473040000 seconds.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Finally, another year has passed. I throughly enjoyed my birthday this year ;)&lt;br /&gt;Wheeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/38287712-2204317017618611084?l=27435.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://27435.blogspot.com/feeds/2204317017618611084/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=38287712&amp;postID=2204317017618611084' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38287712/posts/default/2204317017618611084'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38287712/posts/default/2204317017618611084'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://27435.blogspot.com/2007/03/15-years.html' title='15 years!'/><author><name>pastelstargirl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03752400369575078219</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38287712.post-7873591496044228135</id><published>2007-03-14T23:16:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-03-14T23:17:14.870+08:00</updated><title type='text'>It's just 45 minutes away.</title><content type='html'>My birthday's 45 minutes away. 15 March.&lt;br /&gt;14 going onto 15.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Another year has passed.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/38287712-7873591496044228135?l=27435.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://27435.blogspot.com/feeds/7873591496044228135/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=38287712&amp;postID=7873591496044228135' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38287712/posts/default/7873591496044228135'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38287712/posts/default/7873591496044228135'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://27435.blogspot.com/2007/03/its-just-45-minutes-away.html' title='It&apos;s just 45 minutes away.'/><author><name>pastelstargirl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03752400369575078219</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
