<?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-16821179</id><updated>2011-07-08T04:22:41.793+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Lady28</title><subtitle type='html'>Time..
I've been passing time
Watching trains go by..
All of my life..</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://twenty28eight.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16821179/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://twenty28eight.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><link rel='next' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16821179/posts/default?start-index=101&amp;max-results=100'/><author><name>twenty28eight</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17757364471096294480</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3026/1607/1600/IMG_39841.JPG'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>157</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16821179.post-3660545276403524878</id><published>2010-01-01T23:00:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2010-01-01T23:17:24.194+08:00</updated><title type='text'>2010</title><content type='html'>First day of 2010.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Was unwell a few days ago. Started off with a sore throat which developed into a terrible cough and fever. Much better today. I'm looking forward to school on Monday.  I guess I'm quite excited with the responsibilities given to me. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Woke up pretty early today. Told GB that I'm gonna be more healthy this year so I ran 2.4km on my treadmill. But at a very slow pace. Wouldn't want to exert my 32-year-old body yet. Lol. Hopefully I can sustain this. Can't afford to fall sick on New Year's eve again!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think I truly maximise my holidays this year. Did the things I've been procrastinating which also means spending money. Lol. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Had a family BBQ during Xmas. It was great to see everyone; my family used to have BBQ when we were staying  at Bishan but as we grow older, we don't meet one another often. Should make this a yearly ritual; just like when my grandma was still alive. As I grow older, I miss the time we used to gather together as a family. So next year, we're going to have a BBQ as well as a chalet. Wohoo..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Recently, I found out that there is person in the world who dislikes me - for reasons which I can't fanthom. I don't know whether I should be amused or angry when Zah showed me the SMS. Hmm.. But then again, she's not important in my life so I shouldn't be bothered at all. But then, blogging about it.. Lol.. I'm full of contradictions. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Alright, back to cleaning my wardrobe and watching Lord of the Rings. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2010, here I come! Azza.. Azza.. Fighting!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16821179-3660545276403524878?l=twenty28eight.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://twenty28eight.blogspot.com/feeds/3660545276403524878/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16821179&amp;postID=3660545276403524878' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16821179/posts/default/3660545276403524878'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16821179/posts/default/3660545276403524878'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://twenty28eight.blogspot.com/2010/01/2010.html' title='2010'/><author><name>twenty28eight</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17757364471096294480</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3026/1607/1600/IMG_39841.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16821179.post-1851905415210081520</id><published>2009-12-30T16:35:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2009-12-30T16:36:52.381+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Ill..</title><content type='html'>One day before New Year and I'm on two days MC. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Will blog more when I'm better. Fighting!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16821179-1851905415210081520?l=twenty28eight.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://twenty28eight.blogspot.com/feeds/1851905415210081520/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16821179&amp;postID=1851905415210081520' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16821179/posts/default/1851905415210081520'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16821179/posts/default/1851905415210081520'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://twenty28eight.blogspot.com/2009/12/ill.html' title='Ill..'/><author><name>twenty28eight</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17757364471096294480</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3026/1607/1600/IMG_39841.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16821179.post-241223944510666991</id><published>2009-09-22T21:12:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2009-09-22T21:15:50.443+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Ogling@Crushes</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_SbTM1KolYXQ/SrjNe533qUI/AAAAAAAAARw/8PStQiQ4LuM/s1600-h/Leonardo_DiCaprio_030.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 200px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 150px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5384279285336353090" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_SbTM1KolYXQ/SrjNe533qUI/AAAAAAAAARw/8PStQiQ4LuM/s200/Leonardo_DiCaprio_030.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_SbTM1KolYXQ/SrjNecTGajI/AAAAAAAAARo/Th-Gx6iBUUE/s1600-h/EdwardFurlong2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 142px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 200px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5384279277397502514" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_SbTM1KolYXQ/SrjNecTGajI/AAAAAAAAARo/Th-Gx6iBUUE/s200/EdwardFurlong2.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; The people whom I used to ogle and had a crush on.  For a simple fact that they look like someone whom I knew.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;:)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16821179-241223944510666991?l=twenty28eight.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://twenty28eight.blogspot.com/feeds/241223944510666991/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16821179&amp;postID=241223944510666991' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16821179/posts/default/241223944510666991'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16821179/posts/default/241223944510666991'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://twenty28eight.blogspot.com/2009/09/oglingcrushes.html' title='Ogling@Crushes'/><author><name>twenty28eight</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17757364471096294480</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3026/1607/1600/IMG_39841.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_SbTM1KolYXQ/SrjNe533qUI/AAAAAAAAARw/8PStQiQ4LuM/s72-c/Leonardo_DiCaprio_030.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16821179.post-8124730839704679101</id><published>2009-09-20T08:19:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2009-09-20T08:33:06.994+08:00</updated><title type='text'>SelamatHariRayaAidilfitri</title><content type='html'>I'm at the mosque now, the Aidilfitri prayer had just ended. Now is the Aidilfitri sermon. Can't help feeling melancholic. I used to do the Aidilfitri prayer with a good friend. But now I'm doing it alone. You see, she has gotten herself married. That's why she's with her husband now, not with me. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I used to pray terawih with some good friends too. Unfortunately, once they got hitched, I'm praying alone. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nothing personal but on  reflection, I've always known that I'm not an advocator of change. I like my comfort zone. When I changed my work place a year ago, I actually missed my kids so much that sometimes I cried to sleep because I miss their company. I missed my friends from the old work place so much that I met them almost everyday for dinner. Thankfully, I have gotten over that 'depression' period.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So you can imagine when my friends move on, how affected I was. My friends whom I've known since I was young. But as I aged (yup.. 32 and wiser.. Lol), I learn to accept changes. There're still hiccups along the way. But I'm proud that I can be independent and not to wallow in self-pity. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To these friends of mine, thank you for being there for me in the past. I'm happy for you. And I love you all very much. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Selamat Hari Raya Aidilfitri! :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16821179-8124730839704679101?l=twenty28eight.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://twenty28eight.blogspot.com/feeds/8124730839704679101/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16821179&amp;postID=8124730839704679101' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16821179/posts/default/8124730839704679101'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16821179/posts/default/8124730839704679101'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://twenty28eight.blogspot.com/2009/09/selamatharirayaaidilfitri.html' title='SelamatHariRayaAidilfitri'/><author><name>twenty28eight</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17757364471096294480</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3026/1607/1600/IMG_39841.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16821179.post-8669164166507236832</id><published>2009-09-19T11:36:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2009-09-19T12:09:06.361+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Fighting!</title><content type='html'>About three more weeks to go before I can sheath away my mighty and trustworthy red pen.  Wait.. then again.. there will still be that rigorous marking of free writing, situational writing, cloze passages, comprehensions and summaries.  To choose this path as my career, one  has to expect this; endlessness.. infinity.. of markings.  But then again, I don't regret all that.  Well.. slightly.  :) But this career certainly has taught me many things - lessons that I won't get to learn if I were not a Chang Cheng Nihm (is that how you spell it)?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have, over the years of residng at the GOG (make a guess!), make many good friends - friends whom I went holidays with, friends whom I bitch around with, friends whom I always have supper with.  I am thankful that I have them because over the years, as one grows older, one tends to lose one's friends.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am experiencing that now.  Initially, it's heart-wrenching but I learn to accept that.  In fact, because of that (but not mainly because of that), I am more independent than ever.  When things seem to be bleak, I try to find the brighter side of things.  Wallowing in my self-pity certainly sap my energy.  At 32, you wouldn't want your energy to be sapped.  You are at the prime of your life - move on.  Life's more blissful and blessful that way.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Having goals also help me a lot.  I can see at the end of the day, what I can achieve.  I plan to move on after my kids sit for their 'O' Levels.  I cannot stay where I am now - I believe I will get burnt out.  Not to say that it is a killer place, but if I were to continue working like this for the next 10 years, you would sure see an emanciated me.  Plus the bloody pimples.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've actually learnt a lot in this current place.  To my bewilderment, I actually work very well under pressure.  The last time I did that was when I was doing my 'A' Levels.  Years of hibernation didn't help that much.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tomorow's Hari Raya.  Time to meet my family again.  Hopefully, my parents would slack at home first before we go out.  Two days of 0800 - 2100 workshop plus fasting had tremendously exhausted me.  Think I'm more gifted now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Fighting!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16821179-8669164166507236832?l=twenty28eight.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://twenty28eight.blogspot.com/feeds/8669164166507236832/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16821179&amp;postID=8669164166507236832' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16821179/posts/default/8669164166507236832'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16821179/posts/default/8669164166507236832'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://twenty28eight.blogspot.com/2009/09/fighting.html' title='Fighting!'/><author><name>twenty28eight</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17757364471096294480</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3026/1607/1600/IMG_39841.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16821179.post-5132050536207712721</id><published>2009-07-26T19:51:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2009-07-26T19:57:38.275+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Guess what?!?!</title><content type='html'>I puke at Ang Mo Kio Hub. Again. This is the second time I had to crouched against the toilet bowl, noticing things that, of course, didn't ease my queasiness. But on retrospect, this toilet was relatively cleaner since it's situated in the cinema. I had to miss a good 5 to 10 minutes of my Johnny Depp, while I was retching alone. Such misery. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On a lighter note, I feel slightly better now. At BK now, must at least eat my dinner. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Till then, pray that I remain healthy. For my sec 5's sake. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Azza.. Azza.. Fighting!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16821179-5132050536207712721?l=twenty28eight.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://twenty28eight.blogspot.com/feeds/5132050536207712721/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16821179&amp;postID=5132050536207712721' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16821179/posts/default/5132050536207712721'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16821179/posts/default/5132050536207712721'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://twenty28eight.blogspot.com/2009/07/guess-what.html' title='Guess what?!?!'/><author><name>twenty28eight</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17757364471096294480</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3026/1607/1600/IMG_39841.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16821179.post-5102869654854241172</id><published>2009-05-09T11:11:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2009-05-09T11:14:54.269+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Ponder</title><content type='html'>Sometimes..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;you just ponder&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;if your presence in other people's lives&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;is as important&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;as their presence in your life.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16821179-5102869654854241172?l=twenty28eight.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://twenty28eight.blogspot.com/feeds/5102869654854241172/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16821179&amp;postID=5102869654854241172' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16821179/posts/default/5102869654854241172'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16821179/posts/default/5102869654854241172'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://twenty28eight.blogspot.com/2009/05/ponder.html' title='Ponder'/><author><name>twenty28eight</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17757364471096294480</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3026/1607/1600/IMG_39841.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16821179.post-1530495253904864212</id><published>2009-05-06T19:43:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2009-05-06T19:47:47.967+08:00</updated><title type='text'>사랑해</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_SbTM1KolYXQ/SgF40GY0UwI/AAAAAAAAARg/7QqkacB-5JA/s1600-h/P4280050.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5332676270246613762" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 150px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 200px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_SbTM1KolYXQ/SgF40GY0UwI/AAAAAAAAARg/7QqkacB-5JA/s200/P4280050.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; I have made my decision.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And I am going to stick to it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;사랑해.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16821179-1530495253904864212?l=twenty28eight.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://twenty28eight.blogspot.com/feeds/1530495253904864212/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16821179&amp;postID=1530495253904864212' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16821179/posts/default/1530495253904864212'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16821179/posts/default/1530495253904864212'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://twenty28eight.blogspot.com/2009/05/blog-post.html' title='사랑해'/><author><name>twenty28eight</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17757364471096294480</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3026/1607/1600/IMG_39841.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_SbTM1KolYXQ/SgF40GY0UwI/AAAAAAAAARg/7QqkacB-5JA/s72-c/P4280050.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16821179.post-872378129231125207</id><published>2009-04-09T16:44:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2009-04-09T17:00:10.900+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Life..</title><content type='html'>This is the second time I fell ill in 2009. And the second time I cannot wake up from my bed.  I think I really push myself this year; being a Potter to a bunch of graduating Goonies is pretty stressful.  These Goonies are very responsible and diligent lot; I would feel rather bad if I let them down.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Aside from my ill health, I discover something that I didn't know I have.  Hairstyling.  Not styling my own hair (Gosh.. those of you who know me for years; my hair's a mess!!!).  But other people's hair.  I helped a group of Choir girls for our Speech Day and got compliments for it.  Feeling very smug now.  Now I know what I can be if I were to quit being a Potter.  Lol..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Another thing to take note of.. I can meet these two people one week in a row without getting sick of them.  PinkMonkie and GB.  For the whole of last week, I met them for lunch and dinner.  I think I am crazy over you guys because whenever I am hungry, I think of the two of you.  Lol.. Queer, ain't it?  I think the three of us are strange.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm on two-day MC since yesterday.  Came back on Tuesday, feeling very feverish, bones all aching and my throat was sore.  I cancelled my remedial; didn't think I could last for the day.  Reached home about 3 and slept all the way to 9 plus.  Still could force myself to watch 'Boys Over Flower'.  And 'A Love to Kill'.  I knew I couldn't make it the next day; usually, if I am ill, I just need a nap, and voila.. the next day, I will be fit as a fiddle.  But this time round, even after eating medicine, I still feel disoriented.  Bad sign.  Cancelled my appointment with Yobo and the gang today.  But I manage to cajole Zah and Nad to visit me.  Heehee..  Am so bored at home.  I don't dare to go out cos I know I'm still weak.  Thanks, girlfriends.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I guess my melancholic self won't go away, despite me being cheery and all positive.  There are some things I need to sacrifice and in the process, I realise where I stand.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On a positive note, I'll be 32 in 3 weeks' time!  Wohoo.. So many opportunities when you are in your 30s.  My birthday wish.. to look young forever.  Heehee..&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16821179-872378129231125207?l=twenty28eight.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://twenty28eight.blogspot.com/feeds/872378129231125207/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16821179&amp;postID=872378129231125207' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16821179/posts/default/872378129231125207'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16821179/posts/default/872378129231125207'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://twenty28eight.blogspot.com/2009/04/life.html' title='Life..'/><author><name>twenty28eight</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17757364471096294480</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3026/1607/1600/IMG_39841.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16821179.post-5071131717273655455</id><published>2009-03-22T23:36:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2009-03-22T23:49:23.398+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Chase..</title><content type='html'>I've just watched 'Who's the Man, Who's the Woman'. Again. For don't know how many times.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But everytime I watched it, it always leaves me a sense of comfort. And joy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I prefer the first one though; 'He's the Woman, He's the Man' was quirkier and more humorous.  And of course the song 'Zhui' never stops to entice me with its melody and lyrics (I don't know Cantonese but I know the translated version).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In times of confusion and doubt, I always listen to the song. And I try to believe that at the end of the day, it's worth it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Check out on youtube:&lt;br /&gt;http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PqvPZVWU-K0&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16821179-5071131717273655455?l=twenty28eight.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://twenty28eight.blogspot.com/feeds/5071131717273655455/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16821179&amp;postID=5071131717273655455' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16821179/posts/default/5071131717273655455'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16821179/posts/default/5071131717273655455'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://twenty28eight.blogspot.com/2009/03/chase.html' title='Chase..'/><author><name>twenty28eight</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17757364471096294480</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3026/1607/1600/IMG_39841.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16821179.post-77769503341422941</id><published>2009-03-22T17:31:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2009-03-22T17:39:18.446+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Goodbye..</title><content type='html'>I'm never good with goodbyes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've always like things to stay the way they are; it makes me feel comfortable and not confused, adapting to new environment.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But I guess, life is about changes. Despite me trying to stay the same, others won't, and that's when the changes set in.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I guess, there's always something positive to every decision.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, as the Koreans always say..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Azza, azza fighting!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*I'm going to miss my darlings terribly*&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16821179-77769503341422941?l=twenty28eight.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://twenty28eight.blogspot.com/feeds/77769503341422941/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16821179&amp;postID=77769503341422941' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16821179/posts/default/77769503341422941'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16821179/posts/default/77769503341422941'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://twenty28eight.blogspot.com/2009/03/goodbye.html' title='Goodbye..'/><author><name>twenty28eight</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17757364471096294480</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3026/1607/1600/IMG_39841.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16821179.post-1798958754345044865</id><published>2009-03-16T00:36:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2009-03-16T00:42:51.658+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Life..EverAfter</title><content type='html'>Just came back from camp last Wednesday.  Practically burnt and now my nose is peeling.  I am TWO shades darker and seriously, couldn't buy any make-up for Zah's wedding.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, had a great time at the camp.  I miss going for camps and miggling with kids.  But I miss my toilet and bed, too.  Heehee..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Had a nice surprise on Friday.  Picnic.  Sparklers.  Chilli crab.  Korean music.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Gamsahamnida!&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_SbTM1KolYXQ/Sb0vuxucK5I/AAAAAAAAARY/e07URHeiHN8/s1600-h/IMG_0609.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_SbTM1KolYXQ/Sb0vuxucK5I/AAAAAAAAARY/e07URHeiHN8/s200/IMG_0609.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5313455616035662738" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16821179-1798958754345044865?l=twenty28eight.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://twenty28eight.blogspot.com/feeds/1798958754345044865/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16821179&amp;postID=1798958754345044865' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16821179/posts/default/1798958754345044865'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16821179/posts/default/1798958754345044865'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://twenty28eight.blogspot.com/2009/03/lifeeverafter.html' title='Life..EverAfter'/><author><name>twenty28eight</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17757364471096294480</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3026/1607/1600/IMG_39841.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_SbTM1KolYXQ/Sb0vuxucK5I/AAAAAAAAARY/e07URHeiHN8/s72-c/IMG_0609.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16821179.post-7368623804877905045</id><published>2009-02-16T23:14:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2009-02-16T23:29:34.919+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Happy.. Happy.. Happy..</title><content type='html'>I just had a glass of teh tarik and it's making me feel ill now. It tasted so good just now; slurping the hot, sweet tea, enjoying my briyani and murtabak. Maybe it's the mutton that's causing me to feel sick. I guess, Monday's not a good day to indulge in oneself.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So far, life has been smooth sailing. There're my ups and downs, but nothing that causes my world to turn topsy turvy like last year. I'm glad I'm in more control in 2009. That's the advantage of being 32. Nothing's too difficult to handle. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Expecting a surprise gift in three weeks' time. I wonder what it is. Kinda excited; the last surprise gift was Teachers' Day last year. Looking forward to it. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I miss my boys. Took a look at JW's pics for the Growth Camp at Changi, when they were in Sec 4. How time flies and they're 18 now. My current Goonies are going the same campsite but to my irritation, both genders kept complaining about how they were going to survive camp and even refused to go. Such a wimp. Camp is something that one should look forward to in life. Not something that repulses you. Anyway, I'm going to show them those pics. Might inspire them. Hopefully. :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Currently, I feel a sense of satisfaction and achievement in my work. I guess it's really a good change. I'm more efficient and task-oriented. Very proud of myself. Even Fah commented that. Happy.. Happy.. Happy.. :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Okie dokie. Time for slumber. Will wake up early to do some work. Will try to wake up.. LOL.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16821179-7368623804877905045?l=twenty28eight.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://twenty28eight.blogspot.com/feeds/7368623804877905045/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16821179&amp;postID=7368623804877905045' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16821179/posts/default/7368623804877905045'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16821179/posts/default/7368623804877905045'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://twenty28eight.blogspot.com/2009/02/happy-happy-happy.html' title='Happy.. Happy.. Happy..'/><author><name>twenty28eight</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17757364471096294480</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3026/1607/1600/IMG_39841.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16821179.post-6209012560478614275</id><published>2009-01-22T13:08:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2009-01-22T13:15:51.224+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Whirlwind</title><content type='html'>Life is whirlwind eversince 2009 started.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I tried not to go out during weekdays because my stamina is decreasing like nobody's business.  And yet, I broke that cycle when I went out on Tuesday and Wednesday, going home at 12 plus on the latter.  But then again, I enjoyed the company and the crab feast.  Yesterday's sushi was good, too.  Something that I crave but had no time to savour.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I kind of decided my next destination.  Kuching and Sapa sounds good; not as expensive as Japan.  Time for me to be independent.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Workwise, I am so on task now that I am so amazed at myself sometimes.  I think I am getting used to the pace here.  Good change of environment.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lastly, I already plan my future.  It feels so confirmed.  But I guess, I'm not good enough.  I wonder when  I will be.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16821179-6209012560478614275?l=twenty28eight.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://twenty28eight.blogspot.com/feeds/6209012560478614275/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16821179&amp;postID=6209012560478614275' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16821179/posts/default/6209012560478614275'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16821179/posts/default/6209012560478614275'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://twenty28eight.blogspot.com/2009/01/whirlwind.html' title='Whirlwind'/><author><name>twenty28eight</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17757364471096294480</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3026/1607/1600/IMG_39841.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16821179.post-6418419925964461842</id><published>2008-12-29T20:47:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2008-12-29T20:48:52.842+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Shoes..</title><content type='html'>I wonder who went with you..&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16821179-6418419925964461842?l=twenty28eight.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://twenty28eight.blogspot.com/feeds/6418419925964461842/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16821179&amp;postID=6418419925964461842' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16821179/posts/default/6418419925964461842'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16821179/posts/default/6418419925964461842'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://twenty28eight.blogspot.com/2008/12/shoes.html' title='Shoes..'/><author><name>twenty28eight</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17757364471096294480</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3026/1607/1600/IMG_39841.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16821179.post-814909731864571062</id><published>2008-12-04T15:55:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2008-12-04T16:07:49.712+08:00</updated><title type='text'>MyLife..</title><content type='html'>Today's the second day I stay at home.  Well.. I did go out for supper last night.  I guess staying home too much is not very good for me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't have much appetite.  Hopefully, I get over this soon.  Need to fatten myself up during the holidays in case I lose weight when the term starts.  Lol..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Watched 'City of Glass' for the second time in a week.  I have a weakness for sappy stories when I'm not in the mood.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;These are the list of CDs I would like to purchase but never have the chance to do so:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. Soundtrack of 'City of Glass'&lt;br /&gt;2. Soundtrack of 'High School Musical 3'&lt;br /&gt;3. Jay Chou's previous album (I lost the one I burnt from Rene.. Sniff..)&lt;br /&gt;4. an Arashi album&lt;br /&gt;5. High Society Cd (I think that's what it's called.  Saw it being advertised on TV)&lt;br /&gt;6. and two or three more CDs which I saw being advertised on TV but I can't recall their names for nuts&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm leaving for Korea in three days' time.  Excited?  Kind of.  The feeling comes and goes.  I have been feeling like that for all the trips I took this year.  I know the reason for that.  Unhealthy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, 2008 is the year I went abroad most.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;June: Taiwan&lt;br /&gt;September: Bangkok&lt;br /&gt;October: Malacca&lt;br /&gt;December: Korea&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Did I miss any trips?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I shouldn't, wouldn't and can't go for any trips in 2009.  Because I am dead broke for spending on my trips this year.  I'm not a tai-tai after all.  Lol..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm going to continue to watch TV.  Slacking is the way of life during holidays.  Enjoy..&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16821179-814909731864571062?l=twenty28eight.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://twenty28eight.blogspot.com/feeds/814909731864571062/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16821179&amp;postID=814909731864571062' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16821179/posts/default/814909731864571062'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16821179/posts/default/814909731864571062'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://twenty28eight.blogspot.com/2008/12/mylife.html' title='MyLife..'/><author><name>twenty28eight</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17757364471096294480</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3026/1607/1600/IMG_39841.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16821179.post-7240037194013223321</id><published>2008-11-23T19:09:00.004+08:00</published><updated>2008-11-23T19:21:25.396+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Prezzie&amp;KoreanFood</title><content type='html'>I ran 2.4km today.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well.. not exactly 2.4km; 1.6km to be exact. I walked the first and last round. I have not run for a few months. So, I thought I shouldn't be pushing myself. And if you are wondering what happened that made me drag myself out of bed at 11 plus in the morning and run on my treadmill, I was inspired by someone. Someone who had IPPT test today. Lol..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I certainly had a great day yesterday. Despite what happened the day before. I got a prezzie yesterday. Check out my new wallet.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5271809841437133090" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 150px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_SbTM1KolYXQ/SSk7HppEySI/AAAAAAAAARA/NlfDfJ89k2w/s200/untitled.bmp" border="0" /&gt;Classy, right?  It takes one a person with good taste to give a person who has better taste this.  Lol.. Anyway, the prezzie really made my day.  Plus the food, too!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;I kind of crave for dim sum.  But I am such a super sloth now that all I want to do is to slack at home.  It's nice to be home.  With the heavy rain and my TV.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Recently, I was disturbed by an event.  It made me reflect my role as a Potter; I used to think that I had been doing the right thing.  But now, I think I have failed.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;But on a lighter note, I am smiling now.  Life is too short to be wallowing on one's misery.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Fighting!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16821179-7240037194013223321?l=twenty28eight.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://twenty28eight.blogspot.com/feeds/7240037194013223321/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16821179&amp;postID=7240037194013223321' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16821179/posts/default/7240037194013223321'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16821179/posts/default/7240037194013223321'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://twenty28eight.blogspot.com/2008/11/prezzie.html' title='Prezzie&amp;KoreanFood'/><author><name>twenty28eight</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17757364471096294480</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3026/1607/1600/IMG_39841.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_SbTM1KolYXQ/SSk7HppEySI/AAAAAAAAARA/NlfDfJ89k2w/s72-c/untitled.bmp' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16821179.post-6225152783646820616</id><published>2008-11-13T09:24:00.004+08:00</published><updated>2008-11-13T09:57:15.697+08:00</updated><title type='text'>SpeakEnglish!!!</title><content type='html'>Went out last Saturday with Ali and GB.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Seriously, I don't mind the presence of foreigners in our country. But what happened was way too much.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was at Watson, Taka, with Ali. As usual, GB couldn't take our female bonding too much so he went around on his own. Saw Ali was trying to communicate with the Watson manager for some ginseng face product. When I approached them, Ali was having a difficult time putting across what she wanted. Not that Ali has problem with her English (she has improve her 'England' tremendously ever since she became part of the IJ family) but the manager did not understand what Ali wanted. When I got closer, I knew the reason; the manager was from China. I chuckled gleefully, leaving Ali in her messy situation.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After a while, we decided to explore Face Shop for BB cream. One of the saleladies approached us and was explaining about the product. Suddenly, half way through her explanation, she turned to Ali and said this, "Ni mingpai Hwa Yu, mah?". Literally translated, "Do you understand Mandarin?".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ali was caught offguard and nodded her head. Then the saleslady continued her explanation in Mandarin! What the hell?!?! I was super pissed off. Weren't you explaining to both of us? How could you just switch to another language? Ali tried to explain to me later that the saleslady might have difficulties explaining in English. I turned to Ali and said, "This is town. How can you have a salesperson who is not fluent in English station in town?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We went off to Sasa after that. By then, GB was bored having a rendezvous on his own so he met us there. Being a very cheapo person, he kept spraying perfume on himself, so I suggested to him several perfumes. One of them was Farenheit and the three of us were having problems locating it. I saw a saleslady near the perfume area and asked her, "May I know where's Farenheit?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She looked at me in the eye and said, "I don't speak English."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What the.. I was so cheesed off that I turned to Ali and said, "You tell her what Farenheit is."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ali looked at me and answered, "I don't know what Farenheit is in Mandarin." Piang! Trust Ali to say that. Lol..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, I found Farenheit on my own and let them smell. GB and Ali seriously has bad taste; they said it smelt of Indian. Duh!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I walked out of the shop, I was fuming. I mean, how can a salesperson in town cannot speak English? I don't mind foreigners working in our country but if you are stationed in town, don't you think that at least, you can converse in decent English?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I told PinkMonkie my experience. But this time, Ali added her piece.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Hey, do you know what GB said when I said I don't know what Farenheit is in Mandarin?" Ali asked me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"You mean he answered for you?" I answered.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Yeah, he said 'Fa-lun-height'."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Huh?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Fa-lun-height is Farenheit in Mandarin."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have weird bunch of friends.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16821179-6225152783646820616?l=twenty28eight.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://twenty28eight.blogspot.com/feeds/6225152783646820616/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16821179&amp;postID=6225152783646820616' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16821179/posts/default/6225152783646820616'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16821179/posts/default/6225152783646820616'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://twenty28eight.blogspot.com/2008/11/speakenglish.html' title='SpeakEnglish!!!'/><author><name>twenty28eight</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17757364471096294480</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3026/1607/1600/IMG_39841.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16821179.post-3325393614124687470</id><published>2008-11-05T16:31:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2008-11-05T16:32:57.554+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Numb..</title><content type='html'>I'm feeling numb again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I bet I am going to sleep through the weekend again.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16821179-3325393614124687470?l=twenty28eight.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://twenty28eight.blogspot.com/feeds/3325393614124687470/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16821179&amp;postID=3325393614124687470' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16821179/posts/default/3325393614124687470'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16821179/posts/default/3325393614124687470'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://twenty28eight.blogspot.com/2008/11/numb.html' title='Numb..'/><author><name>twenty28eight</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17757364471096294480</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3026/1607/1600/IMG_39841.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16821179.post-6073368796188765370</id><published>2008-11-05T10:09:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2008-11-05T10:12:11.002+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Awful..</title><content type='html'>I'm feeling slightly awful now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have not fully absorbed the impact yet.  But later, the hurt will come in full force and I will again wallow in self-pity, self-denial and self-depression.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have been doing that so many times this year.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I need sleep.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16821179-6073368796188765370?l=twenty28eight.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://twenty28eight.blogspot.com/feeds/6073368796188765370/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16821179&amp;postID=6073368796188765370' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16821179/posts/default/6073368796188765370'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16821179/posts/default/6073368796188765370'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://twenty28eight.blogspot.com/2008/11/awful.html' title='Awful..'/><author><name>twenty28eight</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17757364471096294480</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3026/1607/1600/IMG_39841.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16821179.post-681729080159820613</id><published>2008-11-03T21:54:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2008-11-03T22:20:34.577+08:00</updated><title type='text'>CityOfGlass</title><content type='html'>Have you watched City of Glass before?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The one that starred Shu Qi and Leon Lai?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Everytime I watched that movie, I always feel a lump in my throat.  The idea of being separated from the one you love because of circumstances always makes me melancholic.  I'm a sentimental fool, I have to say.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Saw it on MIO TV today.  Just the last 15 minutes.  I didn't know it was showing because my dearest daddy was watching Golden Eye.  James Bond with his dumb girls.  But then again, this James Bond is cute (Pierce Brosnan).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Back to my City of Glass, Shu Qi and Leon Lai were a couple when they were young but were separated due to what reason I have forgotten.  When they met each other (I think more than ten years?), they were already married with a child each and they started an affair.  Besides the affair part (something which I don't condone), everything else was sweet.  There was a scene where Shu Qi was left stranded while waiting for him (his wife came back unexpectedly) but their best friend turned up to accompany her.  She asked the best friend, "Do you think he loves me?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Of course," the friend answered.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"So, do you think he loves his wife too?" she continued.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Err.."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I wonder how can one love two people at the same time?" she persisted.  The friend did not know what to answer.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sometimes, it's better not to know the answer to certain questions.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16821179-681729080159820613?l=twenty28eight.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://twenty28eight.blogspot.com/feeds/681729080159820613/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16821179&amp;postID=681729080159820613' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16821179/posts/default/681729080159820613'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16821179/posts/default/681729080159820613'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://twenty28eight.blogspot.com/2008/11/cityofglass.html' title='CityOfGlass'/><author><name>twenty28eight</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17757364471096294480</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3026/1607/1600/IMG_39841.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16821179.post-5216305600546787453</id><published>2008-10-28T13:02:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2008-10-28T13:08:07.427+08:00</updated><title type='text'>NineteenDays</title><content type='html'>I waited exactly nineteen days.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nineteen freaking days.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I resolve not to write about this anymore.&lt;br /&gt;I resolve not to look back anymore.&lt;br /&gt;I resolve not to be foolish anymore.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nineteen freaking days.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16821179-5216305600546787453?l=twenty28eight.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://twenty28eight.blogspot.com/feeds/5216305600546787453/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16821179&amp;postID=5216305600546787453' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16821179/posts/default/5216305600546787453'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16821179/posts/default/5216305600546787453'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://twenty28eight.blogspot.com/2008/10/nineteendays.html' title='NineteenDays'/><author><name>twenty28eight</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17757364471096294480</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3026/1607/1600/IMG_39841.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16821179.post-8525480444206497200</id><published>2008-10-27T23:08:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2008-10-27T23:20:26.467+08:00</updated><title type='text'>SuperCheesedOff</title><content type='html'>I am super cheesed off.  With my friends.  How difficult is it to plan a birthday party?  Just find a common time, sit down and plan.  That was what we did.  What we used to do.  Eons ago.  Because now, everybody is busy with their lives; family, boyfriend, girlfriend, work, bla.. bla.. bla..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Because the next thing I know, one would be out of town, one would be hanging out at some coffeeshop, or one would be just going out.  And we are busy?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's getting on my nerves when people just tell me, "Yeah, I'm free that day."  Period?  So you are free; does that mean you don't need to be involved in the planning?  Sometimes I wonder how come I always exceed my 500 free sms.  Because I always have to revert back whenever one friend cannot make it.  And we have to start planning all over again.  Mind you, we're not talking about just two or three people.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Alright.. I have not calm down yet.  I know priorities change.  But we can't just take things for granted.  That's why I like to go out with my kids.  Easy.  Not much of this hassle. You free?  I free?  Alright, go out.  But the minus point is, I always plan.  Lousy Baobeis.  One day, I am going to do the disappearing act and you have to plan yourselves.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Aaaaaahhhhh.. I feel like strangling someone.  Breathe in.. Breathe out.. I can't afford another pimple!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16821179-8525480444206497200?l=twenty28eight.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://twenty28eight.blogspot.com/feeds/8525480444206497200/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16821179&amp;postID=8525480444206497200' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16821179/posts/default/8525480444206497200'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16821179/posts/default/8525480444206497200'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://twenty28eight.blogspot.com/2008/10/supercheesedoff.html' title='SuperCheesedOff'/><author><name>twenty28eight</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17757364471096294480</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3026/1607/1600/IMG_39841.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16821179.post-8240888312984592701</id><published>2008-10-22T20:50:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2008-10-22T21:14:25.687+08:00</updated><title type='text'>MustBeTheAge</title><content type='html'>Went to Malacca for the weekend.  For the first time, I enjoyed the trip to Malacca.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Had a bad migraine last Tuesday.  And was badly reprimanded by the second level on the same day.  I did not meet the deadline.  So were others.  But I just happened to be there.  Damn suay..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, I had headache intially.  I was out in the sun and kept going in and out of the air-con room.  Was driving to AMK Hub when the headache became a super killer migraine.  I had to squint my eyes to keep the pain away.  Eileen was so worried for me.  When I was waiting for her at Fish &amp;amp; Co. (she was helping me buy Panadol), I tried to sleep but the smell of the food (which was supposed to be tantalising) was making me sick.  When she came back, I ran to the toilet.  Gosh.. the toilet was stinky and yucky!  I was squatting there for a whole five minutes, feeling the bile coming up my mouth.  But I tried not to vomit; not when there was someone in the next cubicle!  I practically could hear her doing her 'business'.  I felt worse!  And add to that, I saw brownish eeky stuff on the toilet bowl!  How the hell can I vomit?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;While I was squatting in front of the toilet bowl, listening and observing my surrounding, I wondered what if I were to faint there.  My migraine was so bad that I had to rock myself to and fro.  Such an un-glam place to faint.  In a public toilet, some more!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was wondering what I could vomit since I only ate pau and drank Ribena.  When I finally did, out came my nutella roll.  I forgot that I ate half of the nutella roll because I was so hungry.  Eeeewwww...  I could smell the vomit in my mouth.  I was crying (not because of anything but I always cry when I vomit).  I felt slightly better.  In the end, I had to leave Eileen alone because I couldn't take it anymore.  Reached home and slept all the way.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The next day, I am back to me.  Bubbly and chatty me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think the last time I had migraine was last year.  Must be the age. :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;By the way, I miss my Dedication4.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16821179-8240888312984592701?l=twenty28eight.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://twenty28eight.blogspot.com/feeds/8240888312984592701/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16821179&amp;postID=8240888312984592701' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16821179/posts/default/8240888312984592701'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16821179/posts/default/8240888312984592701'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://twenty28eight.blogspot.com/2008/10/mustbetheage.html' title='MustBeTheAge'/><author><name>twenty28eight</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17757364471096294480</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3026/1607/1600/IMG_39841.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16821179.post-8475039043621817343</id><published>2008-10-03T11:56:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2008-10-03T12:07:19.049+08:00</updated><title type='text'>iLove..</title><content type='html'>Someone got an iPhone!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;16GB.&lt;br /&gt;White.&lt;br /&gt;Beautiful.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Same-same!&lt;br /&gt;;)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sunset Strip..&lt;br /&gt;Watched a movie based on that title yesterday on MIO TV.&lt;br /&gt;I have come to a conclusion about myself:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. I like the hippies style of the 60s and 70s.&lt;br /&gt;2. I like people with curly hair.  Bonus if (s)he has beautiful eyes.  Examples are Mathew McConaughey, Simon Baker and SFSAA.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well.. I still like Rain and Jay Chou.&lt;br /&gt;Haahaa..&lt;br /&gt;I am still as confused as ever.&lt;br /&gt;;)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16821179-8475039043621817343?l=twenty28eight.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://twenty28eight.blogspot.com/feeds/8475039043621817343/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16821179&amp;postID=8475039043621817343' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16821179/posts/default/8475039043621817343'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16821179/posts/default/8475039043621817343'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://twenty28eight.blogspot.com/2008/10/ilove.html' title='iLove..'/><author><name>twenty28eight</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17757364471096294480</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3026/1607/1600/IMG_39841.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16821179.post-4482677602530230682</id><published>2008-10-02T14:12:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2008-10-02T14:27:50.236+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Persinggahan..</title><content type='html'>Persinggahan is the Malay word for stopover.  A place where people just pop by for a while, and then move on and forget all about it.  Whenever I travel in Malaysia, there's always a persinggahan where the tour buses will stop for a break; can't remember the name.  I think there are two or three of them; they sell food and provide toilets for these people.  They are so insignificant to me that I can't even remember their names.  And yet, they provide service for me and I actually don't even bother to remember their names.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Recently, I feel like a persinggahan, a stopover.  People just pop by my life and then, they are gone.  Good things happen to me and then, they are taken away from me.  And the sad thing is, I get so used to be treated that way, that I don't even want to put a stop to such things.  Maybe, I just want to savour the moment.. but is it worth my dignity and confidence?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Adding insult to my intelligence, I know what's the right answer.  Just like people who take drugs; they know what they do is wrong and yet, they continue doing it.  Just like people who steal; they know what they do is wrong and yet, they continue doing it.  And I am doing the same thing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The persinggahan is synonymous to me now.  Just like I forget their names, people also forget me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The irony of life.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16821179-4482677602530230682?l=twenty28eight.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://twenty28eight.blogspot.com/feeds/4482677602530230682/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16821179&amp;postID=4482677602530230682' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16821179/posts/default/4482677602530230682'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16821179/posts/default/4482677602530230682'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://twenty28eight.blogspot.com/2008/10/persinggahan.html' title='Persinggahan..'/><author><name>twenty28eight</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17757364471096294480</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3026/1607/1600/IMG_39841.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16821179.post-6459676424638622543</id><published>2008-09-15T20:11:00.011+08:00</published><updated>2008-09-15T21:09:45.231+08:00</updated><title type='text'>MyLifeInSeptember</title><content type='html'>So many things happen to me!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;And I didn't have the time to blog!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Newest addition to my life.. mybaby iPhone!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_SbTM1KolYXQ/SM5UZBwe7GI/AAAAAAAAALg/aygdXYxZbVk/s1600-h/Picture+0029.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5246223404878457954" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_SbTM1KolYXQ/SM5UZBwe7GI/AAAAAAAAALg/aygdXYxZbVk/s200/Picture+0029.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;16GB.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;White.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;And beautiful!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Too bad I can't MMS with it. But I am getting use to it. :)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Been uploading my pictures and music and ringtones and my schedules and my FaceBook and my To-Do List and the list goes on..&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;My beautiful, champaigne roses. Twenty-eight of them! Got them delivered during The Potter's Day celebration. They were so beautiful that I couldn't stop smiling the whole day. I left them to dry in the office. And now, they produce a fragrant that I always associated with roses.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_SbTM1KolYXQ/SM5Wq11Eg4I/AAAAAAAAALo/ktqtXNh3O6A/s1600-h/DSC00552.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5246225909937374082" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_SbTM1KolYXQ/SM5Wq11Eg4I/AAAAAAAAALo/ktqtXNh3O6A/s200/DSC00552.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;This was on the day I received the bouquet.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_SbTM1KolYXQ/SM5W9xJPc3I/AAAAAAAAALw/TmsqPoykIrg/s1600-h/IMG_0054.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5246226235097314162" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_SbTM1KolYXQ/SM5W9xJPc3I/AAAAAAAAALw/TmsqPoykIrg/s200/IMG_0054.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;This was days after I left it to dry.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No use asking me who gave it to me. Whoever sent it to me, I bet the person just felt indebted. I have that effect on people. Lol..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Flew off to BKK on 29 August and came back on 1 September. Had great company; PinkMonkie, Ali, GB and Keify. I was lost alone when I was in BKK. The rest had some sharkfin soup in Chinatown. Told them that I could walk around MBK on my own. But on the way back after the train trip, I couldn't find our hotel. Spent about 10-15 minutes in a dark alley. Man, it was frightening. I was trying to hide my map while trying to walk coolly, as if I know the alley at the back of my hand. Lol ..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Bet I look like the locals; that's why they left me alone. Anyway, I survived. But what an experience.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I finally watched 4bia! Freak me out! Especially the last one! I was basically screaming and shrieking my lungs out, to a point I felt that my throat hurt after the movie! Sharifah and I were squeezing against Sammy; basically he was seated in between us and as the scene got more tense and scarier, we were squeezing ourselves against him! I was basically screaming at his ears! Sammy kept saying, "Who force me to watch this show, huh? I want to watch Death Race or Babylon, not this! This is scary shit, man!" If I were not that frightened myself, I would be laughing at his remarks!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then there was a scene where the ghost was coughing violently; we couldn't see the ghost, only can hear her coughing. I told Sammy, "Eh, the ghost is coughing!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And silly Sammy answered, "No, la. That's Sharifah coughing."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What the hell! Prior to that scene, Sharifah did cough. And I turned to Sammy and shrieked, "The coughing sound comes from my left side! Sharifah's sitting at your right side!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"No, it's Sharifah," he replied. Whatever.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Joel was basically covering his eyes with his bag throughout the show. Lol..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Only Clement, Naqib and Gracia were cool. I bet Jia En was freaking out, too.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Alright, the very last thing that is worth blogging.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I finally booked my holiday trip for December! Can't wait to get away from Singapore. With BJ and Ali. Wohoo..&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&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/16821179-6459676424638622543?l=twenty28eight.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://twenty28eight.blogspot.com/feeds/6459676424638622543/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16821179&amp;postID=6459676424638622543' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16821179/posts/default/6459676424638622543'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16821179/posts/default/6459676424638622543'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://twenty28eight.blogspot.com/2008/09/mylifeinseptember.html' title='MyLifeInSeptember'/><author><name>twenty28eight</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17757364471096294480</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3026/1607/1600/IMG_39841.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_SbTM1KolYXQ/SM5UZBwe7GI/AAAAAAAAALg/aygdXYxZbVk/s72-c/Picture+0029.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16821179.post-8612313505902835959</id><published>2008-09-11T15:41:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2008-09-11T15:46:18.888+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Comfort</title><content type='html'>It's funny how one can feel comforted even just by seeing one online.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Must be the age.&lt;br /&gt;:)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16821179-8612313505902835959?l=twenty28eight.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://twenty28eight.blogspot.com/feeds/8612313505902835959/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16821179&amp;postID=8612313505902835959' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16821179/posts/default/8612313505902835959'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16821179/posts/default/8612313505902835959'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://twenty28eight.blogspot.com/2008/09/comfort.html' title='Comfort'/><author><name>twenty28eight</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17757364471096294480</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3026/1607/1600/IMG_39841.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16821179.post-4553659894372424883</id><published>2008-09-10T00:59:00.004+08:00</published><updated>2008-09-10T01:14:31.072+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Dygta-TakBisa Memiliki</title><content type='html'>Today, I am going to blog in Malay.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well.. not exactly write in Malay.  I think the last time I wrote in Malay was when I was taking my Malay exam during 'O' Level.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am going to cut and paste this song from an Indonesian group, Dygta.  Lovely song.  Caught my attention when a friend burn it for me.  Becomes one of my favourite.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It describes aptly what I am feeling right now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Bila waktuku tersisa&lt;br /&gt;Untuk selalu di sisi&lt;br /&gt;Menjaga hatimu&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Aku&lt;br /&gt;Kan selalu mencuba&lt;br /&gt;Berikan yang terbaik&lt;br /&gt;Untuk kau miliki&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tapi maafkanlah aku&lt;br /&gt;Waktuku hanya sesaat&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Aku tak bisa memiliki&lt;br /&gt;Menjaga cintamu&lt;br /&gt;Walau sesungguhnya hatiku&lt;br /&gt;Mencintaimu&lt;br /&gt;Memilikimu&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Aku tak ingin kau terluka&lt;br /&gt;Mencintai aku&lt;br /&gt;Hapuslah air matamu&lt;br /&gt;Dan lupakan aku&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sendiri&lt;br /&gt;Di batas asaku&lt;br /&gt;Hanya ingin kau bahagia&lt;br /&gt;Jalani hidupmu&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Aku&lt;br /&gt;Kan selalu mencuba&lt;br /&gt;Berikan yang terbaik&lt;br /&gt;Untuk kau miliki&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tapi maafkanlah aku&lt;br /&gt;Waktuku hanya sesaat&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;Today is the second day.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16821179-4553659894372424883?l=twenty28eight.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://twenty28eight.blogspot.com/feeds/4553659894372424883/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16821179&amp;postID=4553659894372424883' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16821179/posts/default/4553659894372424883'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16821179/posts/default/4553659894372424883'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://twenty28eight.blogspot.com/2008/09/dygta-takbisa-memiliki.html' title='Dygta-TakBisa Memiliki'/><author><name>twenty28eight</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17757364471096294480</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3026/1607/1600/IMG_39841.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16821179.post-8303390350163237056</id><published>2008-09-08T23:28:00.004+08:00</published><updated>2008-09-08T23:36:37.733+08:00</updated><title type='text'>DownOnMyLuck</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_SbTM1KolYXQ/SMVF5tTzmrI/AAAAAAAAALI/FAn4LvvhEnY/s1600-h/DSC00543.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5243674198860339890" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_SbTM1KolYXQ/SMVF5tTzmrI/AAAAAAAAALI/FAn4LvvhEnY/s200/DSC00543.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I am seriously down on my luck.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Number One:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Last Thursday, I parked at East Coast without a coupon. I was fined 30 bucks.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Number Two:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I opened a letter today and found myself fined another 70 bucks for parking illegally at Chomp Chomp two Saturdays ago. What the hell!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Number Three:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I realised no matter how high my education is, I am still gullible to believe in a lie. For a few months. I hope her nose will grow longer.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;In conclusion, I am a Monday to Friday girl.  Who can dispute that?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16821179-8303390350163237056?l=twenty28eight.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://twenty28eight.blogspot.com/feeds/8303390350163237056/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16821179&amp;postID=8303390350163237056' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16821179/posts/default/8303390350163237056'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16821179/posts/default/8303390350163237056'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://twenty28eight.blogspot.com/2008/09/downonmyluck.html' title='DownOnMyLuck'/><author><name>twenty28eight</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17757364471096294480</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3026/1607/1600/IMG_39841.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_SbTM1KolYXQ/SMVF5tTzmrI/AAAAAAAAALI/FAn4LvvhEnY/s72-c/DSC00543.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16821179.post-5800817416336113400</id><published>2008-08-18T18:34:00.005+08:00</published><updated>2008-08-18T18:43:04.292+08:00</updated><title type='text'>TheWait</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_SbTM1KolYXQ/SKlQY--m9XI/AAAAAAAAALA/YX1bKEeGCNw/s1600-h/DSC00474.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5235804431947593074" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_SbTM1KolYXQ/SKlQY--m9XI/AAAAAAAAALA/YX1bKEeGCNw/s200/DSC00474.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;November..&lt;br /&gt;December..&lt;br /&gt;February..&lt;br /&gt;April..&lt;br /&gt;June..&lt;br /&gt;August..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think I can wait..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;twenty28eight is smiling.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16821179-5800817416336113400?l=twenty28eight.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://twenty28eight.blogspot.com/feeds/5800817416336113400/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16821179&amp;postID=5800817416336113400' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16821179/posts/default/5800817416336113400'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16821179/posts/default/5800817416336113400'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://twenty28eight.blogspot.com/2008/08/thewait.html' title='TheWait'/><author><name>twenty28eight</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17757364471096294480</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3026/1607/1600/IMG_39841.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_SbTM1KolYXQ/SKlQY--m9XI/AAAAAAAAALA/YX1bKEeGCNw/s72-c/DSC00474.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16821179.post-9063897325750603859</id><published>2008-08-17T18:52:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2008-08-17T18:57:27.188+08:00</updated><title type='text'>ThankYouHJ</title><content type='html'>I have to thank HJ for spending more than two hours talking on the phone with me from NY.  Seriously, you better check how much you are paying for that call.  Lol..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have been living by the day; it's much easier, I guess.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Deadlines are coming but I haven't finished most of my stuff!  Two more weeks to go!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Fighting!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16821179-9063897325750603859?l=twenty28eight.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://twenty28eight.blogspot.com/feeds/9063897325750603859/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16821179&amp;postID=9063897325750603859' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16821179/posts/default/9063897325750603859'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16821179/posts/default/9063897325750603859'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://twenty28eight.blogspot.com/2008/08/thankyouhj.html' title='ThankYouHJ'/><author><name>twenty28eight</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17757364471096294480</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3026/1607/1600/IMG_39841.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16821179.post-174533389567268929</id><published>2008-08-16T11:08:00.007+08:00</published><updated>2008-08-16T13:58:40.913+08:00</updated><title type='text'>TheSmurfsSansQiu</title><content type='html'>Met up with my JC friends yesterday; intitally, I was unsure whether this meeting would turn out well. We have not met up with one another for eons so it might be kind of awkward. I was the first to arrive; this was so unexpected because I am always late for appointment. Then Sharon arrived.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sweet Sharon, still the same since I knew her when I was 17. I was the only one who attended her wedding last year; Ray was in US, Jen was in Canada and Qiu was in Australia. She looked good. She was always the only one who made the effort to have gatherings. Back then, when everyone was in Uni (Ray, Qiu and I were in NUS whil Jen was in NTU), she always, without fail, organised a gathering when she came back for hols (she was studying at Warwick, UK). The rest of us were super slackers; no Sharon meant no meeting up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then Jen arrived, in bright sequinned white dress! Another person who doesn't change. If you think I am a bundle of energy, Jen is triple of mine! Even I felt exhausted just looking at her telling us about her life! The two of us knew each other when we were in the same OG for the first three months. Both of us loved the mass dance! And we loved to cheer too! Somehow we clicked and I was her first Malay friend. Used to find this hilarious until I started being a Potter and found out that I was the first Malay friends to many of my good friends. And we are living in Singapore.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Found the reason why she was dressed glamourously; she was going clubbing. And we were like, "Weren't you from tuition?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Yes," she answered, smiling as if it is normal to dress that way to tuition. Jen doesn't change. Despite having a family issue; her mum is diagnosed with breast cancer and is undergoing chemotheraphy, she is still very positive. I wish I can have half of her optimism; I have been extremely depressed nowadays.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then Ray came; loud, boisterous Ray, mother of two cute girls. As soon as she talked, I realised it was the same Ray. Everybody's still the same. I kind of miss the time when five of us would gather under LT1 and just hang out. Too bad Qiu is in Australia; uncontactable. Ray was asking everybody questions, from Jen's divorce-then-married status, to Sharon's married life, to my are-you-going-to-be-matchmade position. She is leaving in about nine days' time. It has been a long time since we actually have such a gathering. Planning to meet again this Wednesday, before Ray flies off.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I felt better after meeting them. Life seems not so bleak after all.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;P.S. Thanks, HJ. I am going to be fine. Fighting!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16821179-174533389567268929?l=twenty28eight.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://twenty28eight.blogspot.com/feeds/174533389567268929/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16821179&amp;postID=174533389567268929' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16821179/posts/default/174533389567268929'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16821179/posts/default/174533389567268929'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://twenty28eight.blogspot.com/2008/08/thesmurfssansqiu.html' title='TheSmurfsSansQiu'/><author><name>twenty28eight</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17757364471096294480</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3026/1607/1600/IMG_39841.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16821179.post-6366497344927830568</id><published>2008-08-13T16:02:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2008-08-13T16:05:01.877+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Reminder..</title><content type='html'>ya stupid&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;so y waste ur time&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;wake up&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;im juz taking u for a ride&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16821179-6366497344927830568?l=twenty28eight.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://twenty28eight.blogspot.com/feeds/6366497344927830568/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16821179&amp;postID=6366497344927830568' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16821179/posts/default/6366497344927830568'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16821179/posts/default/6366497344927830568'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://twenty28eight.blogspot.com/2008/08/reminder.html' title='Reminder..'/><author><name>twenty28eight</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17757364471096294480</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3026/1607/1600/IMG_39841.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16821179.post-1798047583542003373</id><published>2008-08-13T14:47:00.005+08:00</published><updated>2008-08-13T14:57:12.725+08:00</updated><title type='text'>HaveYouBeen..</title><content type='html'>Have you been to a stage in your life where you lose your direction and yet, you let yourself be lost because you want to be lost?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Have you been to a stage in your life where you are not wanted and know that you are not wanted and yet, you still stick around?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Have you been to a stage in your life where you feel like a fool and know that you are a fool and yet, still continue to behave like a fool?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;I have.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16821179-1798047583542003373?l=twenty28eight.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://twenty28eight.blogspot.com/feeds/1798047583542003373/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16821179&amp;postID=1798047583542003373' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16821179/posts/default/1798047583542003373'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16821179/posts/default/1798047583542003373'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://twenty28eight.blogspot.com/2008/08/haveyoubeen.html' title='HaveYouBeen..'/><author><name>twenty28eight</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17757364471096294480</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3026/1607/1600/IMG_39841.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16821179.post-4846923178155141480</id><published>2008-08-11T14:28:00.006+08:00</published><updated>2008-08-12T00:28:55.570+08:00</updated><title type='text'>LifeOverTheTwoMonths</title><content type='html'>So many things happened for the past two months.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was and am very busy. With work. To a point that I didn't have time to think much about life. That's what I do when I am uber free; nothing better to do but think.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Met up with people who matter a lot to me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thanks, HJ. Miss having you here in Singapore. And thanks for offering to lend a ear despite the fact that you are going to be so far away. Don't worry about your silly friend here. I sure hell can cope. Lol.. Fighting!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Met up with my girlfriends on National Day.  Last year, we did the same thing.  I guess as we grow older, we just don't know what to do when we go out.  As a result, we hang out at my place.  Watch NDP.  Lol..  Hope we  won't do the same thing next year.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Had a BBQ with my Dedication5.  They are so big now.  Had a great time catching up.  Never knew that such a day would come; this group of Goonies used to give me loads of problems.  The most interesting one was when they had a fight in between their prelim break.  One of them, in fact, dislocated another boy's jaw; the latter was from another Institution.  The fighter now is recuperating from a motorbike accident which occured last April.  He's still a fighter; with one broken leg and an arm where the skin actually split and had to go through skin grafting, he still came for the BBQ in his crutches.  Great to see him.  And the rest too.  :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Of course, have to have a gathering with my Baobeis.  Miss them like hell.  Their nonsense.  Their naughty remarks.  And their crazy antics!  And I miss my Dear-Dear most of all.  Lol.. Am so glad he's back to normal.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Recently, I found out from an ex-Goonie that he used to hate me.  I used not to be able to stand him too.  Both of us could not be in the same room without me picking on his piercings and he answering me back curtly.  One day, I found out about his tattoo and reported him.  That was the main reason for his loathing to me.  Well.. he told me about this when we went out to celebrate New Year this year.  Amazingly, both of us get along well with each other now.  In fact, we enjoy each other's company.  I don't know how things got around but I'm glad it did.  He's actually a sweet fellow and always has a way to make me smile.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;twenty28eight ponders if she's a fool for believing in the terms and conditions..&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16821179-4846923178155141480?l=twenty28eight.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://twenty28eight.blogspot.com/feeds/4846923178155141480/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16821179&amp;postID=4846923178155141480' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16821179/posts/default/4846923178155141480'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16821179/posts/default/4846923178155141480'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://twenty28eight.blogspot.com/2008/08/lifeoverthetwomonths.html' title='LifeOverTheTwoMonths'/><author><name>twenty28eight</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17757364471096294480</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3026/1607/1600/IMG_39841.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16821179.post-162696690155825496</id><published>2008-06-13T10:16:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2008-06-13T10:16:47.871+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Fatina'sQuestionToPinochio</title><content type='html'>Would you spend your day with me tomorrow?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16821179-162696690155825496?l=twenty28eight.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://twenty28eight.blogspot.com/feeds/162696690155825496/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16821179&amp;postID=162696690155825496' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16821179/posts/default/162696690155825496'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16821179/posts/default/162696690155825496'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://twenty28eight.blogspot.com/2008/06/fatinasquestiontopinochio.html' title='Fatina&apos;sQuestionToPinochio'/><author><name>twenty28eight</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17757364471096294480</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3026/1607/1600/IMG_39841.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16821179.post-6756650203757845475</id><published>2008-06-02T09:22:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2008-06-02T09:23:44.076+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Shadow</title><content type='html'>I am a Shadow&lt;br /&gt;Lurking around with no being&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have no form&lt;br /&gt;No body&lt;br /&gt;No flesh&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And yet I yearn to be human&lt;br /&gt;To be acknowledged of my presence&lt;br /&gt;A futile dream&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Of a senseless being&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16821179-6756650203757845475?l=twenty28eight.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://twenty28eight.blogspot.com/feeds/6756650203757845475/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16821179&amp;postID=6756650203757845475' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16821179/posts/default/6756650203757845475'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16821179/posts/default/6756650203757845475'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://twenty28eight.blogspot.com/2008/06/shadow.html' title='Shadow'/><author><name>twenty28eight</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17757364471096294480</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3026/1607/1600/IMG_39841.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16821179.post-203149401718035364</id><published>2008-05-31T18:54:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2008-05-31T19:02:06.884+08:00</updated><title type='text'>TheLittleFool</title><content type='html'>A little Fool once asked the mighty Rain&lt;br /&gt;Will you accompany me in my garden eternally?&lt;br /&gt;And never to leave me in drought indefinitely?&lt;br /&gt;The mighty Rain smiled lovingly at her&lt;br /&gt;And showered her with mist of water&lt;br /&gt;Where the little Fool danced and laughed in joy&lt;br /&gt;In full faith of a promise&lt;br /&gt;Presumed not to be broken&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One day the mighty Rain disappeared&lt;br /&gt;Not a word of caution given&lt;br /&gt;Leaving the little Fool stood stranded&lt;br /&gt;In her own luscious green garden&lt;br /&gt;Wondering if she has caused the mighty Rain displeasure&lt;br /&gt;With her own unappreciative gestures&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The little Fool did her dance of merriment&lt;br /&gt;Calling out the mighty Rain’s name&lt;br /&gt;Till her voice turned hoarse&lt;br /&gt;She twirled and circled the whole garden&lt;br /&gt;Even with exhaustion she withstood&lt;br /&gt;All the time her hands in the air&lt;br /&gt;All the time her eyes fixed in the sky&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Alas the mighty Rain did not appear&lt;br /&gt;And neither did the mighty Rain answer her&lt;br /&gt;And for months onwards&lt;br /&gt;The little Fool’s garden grew weak&lt;br /&gt;And withered&lt;br /&gt;The smell of death slowly permeated&lt;br /&gt;In the once lavish greenery&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The little Fool laid in her garden&lt;br /&gt;Lost and dying&lt;br /&gt;Waiting for her beloved Rain&lt;br /&gt;In full faith&lt;br /&gt;Of the latter’s promise&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One day she heard the mighty Rain’s voice&lt;br /&gt;Outside her garden&lt;br /&gt;And her heart jumped with anticipation&lt;br /&gt;Of pleasure to see her beloved Rain once again&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Quivering with excitement&lt;br /&gt;The little Fool tried to stand up&lt;br /&gt;And welcome her beloved Rain&lt;br /&gt;Back in her arms&lt;br /&gt;But with the decaying of her garden&lt;br /&gt;And the feebleness of her being&lt;br /&gt;She found herself dragging her body to the gate&lt;br /&gt;Tears of joy&lt;br /&gt;Washed down her face&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At the gate she tried to call the mighty Rain’s name&lt;br /&gt;But it was only a hoarse whisper&lt;br /&gt;For she has put her whole soul&lt;br /&gt;To her futile dance&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Between the cracks of the gate&lt;br /&gt;She saw her beloved Rain&lt;br /&gt;Lavishing mist of water&lt;br /&gt;On a youngling’s garden&lt;br /&gt;Shocked with disbelief&lt;br /&gt;The little Fool backed away&lt;br /&gt;And tripped on a dead root&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As she fell onto the dry earth&lt;br /&gt;She remembered how the mighty Rain had favoured her&lt;br /&gt;And how beautiful&lt;br /&gt;Her garden had been&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As her body touched the ground&lt;br /&gt;The little Fool closed her eyes&lt;br /&gt;I am nothingness&lt;br /&gt;Without my beloved Rain&lt;br /&gt;I am a fool&lt;br /&gt;Just like my name&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16821179-203149401718035364?l=twenty28eight.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://twenty28eight.blogspot.com/feeds/203149401718035364/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16821179&amp;postID=203149401718035364' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16821179/posts/default/203149401718035364'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16821179/posts/default/203149401718035364'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://twenty28eight.blogspot.com/2008/05/thelittlefool.html' title='TheLittleFool'/><author><name>twenty28eight</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17757364471096294480</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3026/1607/1600/IMG_39841.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16821179.post-402623441252175742</id><published>2008-05-28T20:12:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2008-05-28T20:21:45.683+08:00</updated><title type='text'>MySlumber</title><content type='html'>I have just woken up from&lt;br /&gt;Another long and uneventful slumber&lt;br /&gt;Something that I have not done&lt;br /&gt;For a long moment.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In the darkness I blink&lt;br /&gt;Wondering if I am back in reality&lt;br /&gt;For I sought the comfort of&lt;br /&gt;Any assuring dream.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hope is what people yearn for&lt;br /&gt;To live life as merry as can be&lt;br /&gt;But hope is just another incarceration&lt;br /&gt;Of my unfulfilled fantasy.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16821179-402623441252175742?l=twenty28eight.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://twenty28eight.blogspot.com/feeds/402623441252175742/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16821179&amp;postID=402623441252175742' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16821179/posts/default/402623441252175742'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16821179/posts/default/402623441252175742'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://twenty28eight.blogspot.com/2008/05/myslumber.html' title='MySlumber'/><author><name>twenty28eight</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17757364471096294480</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3026/1607/1600/IMG_39841.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16821179.post-6505927802663858248</id><published>2008-05-28T17:40:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2008-05-28T17:46:08.436+08:00</updated><title type='text'>WouldYouLikeToWatchMovie?</title><content type='html'>Disappointment is an understatement.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16821179-6505927802663858248?l=twenty28eight.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://twenty28eight.blogspot.com/feeds/6505927802663858248/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16821179&amp;postID=6505927802663858248' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16821179/posts/default/6505927802663858248'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16821179/posts/default/6505927802663858248'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://twenty28eight.blogspot.com/2008/05/wouldyouliketowatchmovie.html' title='WouldYouLikeToWatchMovie?'/><author><name>twenty28eight</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17757364471096294480</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3026/1607/1600/IMG_39841.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16821179.post-1404905911106225935</id><published>2008-05-28T00:08:00.004+08:00</published><updated>2008-05-28T17:39:57.054+08:00</updated><title type='text'>TheLoveThat DaresNotSpeakItsName</title><content type='html'>I'm back to my sleeping routine again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;While others are having a merry time eating supper @Simpang.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16821179-1404905911106225935?l=twenty28eight.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://twenty28eight.blogspot.com/feeds/1404905911106225935/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16821179&amp;postID=1404905911106225935' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16821179/posts/default/1404905911106225935'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16821179/posts/default/1404905911106225935'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://twenty28eight.blogspot.com/2008/05/thelovethatcannotbementioned.html' title='TheLoveThat DaresNotSpeakItsName'/><author><name>twenty28eight</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17757364471096294480</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3026/1607/1600/IMG_39841.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16821179.post-6057614431719956607</id><published>2008-05-26T13:13:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2008-05-26T13:21:28.409+08:00</updated><title type='text'>I'veNotHeardTheWordFATINAforSomeTime</title><content type='html'>As usual, I side track from my work.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Life hasn't been smooth sailing for me for the past few weeks.  Can't believe that at 31, I have to go through such a thing all over again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But I'm happy today.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Though it's going to be short-lived, I just embrace the moment and for once, not be practical.  And not the strong one here.  It's been exhausting to be the one who always hold the fort, because if I don't, everything will crumble.  That's what I believe.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Gamsahamnida for the time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And sarang heyo always..&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16821179-6057614431719956607?l=twenty28eight.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://twenty28eight.blogspot.com/feeds/6057614431719956607/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16821179&amp;postID=6057614431719956607' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16821179/posts/default/6057614431719956607'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16821179/posts/default/6057614431719956607'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://twenty28eight.blogspot.com/2008/05/ivenotheardthewordfatinaforsometime.html' title='I&apos;veNotHeardTheWordFATINAforSomeTime'/><author><name>twenty28eight</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17757364471096294480</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3026/1607/1600/IMG_39841.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16821179.post-7749881835890946861</id><published>2008-05-19T11:39:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2008-05-19T11:41:14.578+08:00</updated><title type='text'>NineteenMay2008</title><content type='html'>It's a no.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Foolish woman.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Another chapter to go.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No more of this nonsense.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16821179-7749881835890946861?l=twenty28eight.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://twenty28eight.blogspot.com/feeds/7749881835890946861/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16821179&amp;postID=7749881835890946861' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16821179/posts/default/7749881835890946861'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16821179/posts/default/7749881835890946861'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://twenty28eight.blogspot.com/2008/05/nineteenmay2008.html' title='NineteenMay2008'/><author><name>twenty28eight</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17757364471096294480</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3026/1607/1600/IMG_39841.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16821179.post-4149940806907339032</id><published>2008-05-19T00:34:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2008-05-19T00:35:36.760+08:00</updated><title type='text'>EighteenMay2008</title><content type='html'>If you were to ask me, I would have said yes.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16821179-4149940806907339032?l=twenty28eight.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://twenty28eight.blogspot.com/feeds/4149940806907339032/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16821179&amp;postID=4149940806907339032' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16821179/posts/default/4149940806907339032'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16821179/posts/default/4149940806907339032'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://twenty28eight.blogspot.com/2008/05/eighteenmay2008.html' title='EighteenMay2008'/><author><name>twenty28eight</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17757364471096294480</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3026/1607/1600/IMG_39841.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16821179.post-7024189518727189984</id><published>2008-05-18T14:36:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2008-05-18T14:37:34.759+08:00</updated><title type='text'>SeventeenMay2008</title><content type='html'>My eyes are swollen.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They hurt.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16821179-7024189518727189984?l=twenty28eight.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://twenty28eight.blogspot.com/feeds/7024189518727189984/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16821179&amp;postID=7024189518727189984' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16821179/posts/default/7024189518727189984'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16821179/posts/default/7024189518727189984'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://twenty28eight.blogspot.com/2008/05/seventeenmay2008.html' title='SeventeenMay2008'/><author><name>twenty28eight</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17757364471096294480</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3026/1607/1600/IMG_39841.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16821179.post-5396750765199356839</id><published>2008-04-27T08:58:00.007+08:00</published><updated>2008-04-27T09:14:00.358+08:00</updated><title type='text'>TheDayBefore31</title><content type='html'>I'm supposed to be doing my work now but of course, distracted by other irrelevant things which I am very sure, I will regret later tonight because I HAVEN'T COMPLETED THEM!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Haiz.. humans. Procrastination is thy name.  Or is it just mine?  Lol..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;P.H.Y.S.I.C.S told me of my bad habit; I take a pretty long time to complete something.  My AFI (Area for Improvement).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yesterday went Bukit Timah Hill with P.H.Y.S.I.C.S.  We were accompanied by two other people and seriously, I climbed so many steps that I think I can reach heaven!  Found a bruise on my knees; must be the roots or branches which I brushed against.  The last time I went Bukit Timah was last year; I was so busy this year.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After that, I went Chinatown with P.H.Y.S.I.C.S to collect our tickets to TAIWAN!  Oh, man.. Can't wait to get out of Singapore.  And be a stranger in an unknown land.  I have been doing work non-stop to a point I felt so guilty if I took a rest.  But I didn't care yesterday.  After I came back, I slept.  Woke up to watch My Boyfriend is Type B on Channel U and Om Shanti Om on Central simultaneously.  Was surprised to see Shahrul Khan (is that how you spell his name?) looking very good; seriously people, I don't fancy this actor but he really toned up his body (I think he's in his late 30s or early 40s) and his hair looked very stylo milo!  You know, Hindustani movie is always over the top and everytime they featured him half naked, I kept laughing out loud.  The story was super long; from 1600 to 1900.  The first part was super draggy (that was why I turned to the Korean movie) but it got better when he was supposedly reincarnated after he died a tragic death.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Slept pretty early yesterday, about 10 plus.  So today, must chiong all the way!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Fighting!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16821179-5396750765199356839?l=twenty28eight.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://twenty28eight.blogspot.com/feeds/5396750765199356839/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16821179&amp;postID=5396750765199356839' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16821179/posts/default/5396750765199356839'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16821179/posts/default/5396750765199356839'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://twenty28eight.blogspot.com/2008/04/thedaybefore31.html' title='TheDayBefore31'/><author><name>twenty28eight</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17757364471096294480</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3026/1607/1600/IMG_39841.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16821179.post-400714524006114716</id><published>2008-04-21T10:49:00.010+08:00</published><updated>2008-04-21T11:30:38.317+08:00</updated><title type='text'>PostBlues</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_SbTM1KolYXQ/SAwCkk35QHI/AAAAAAAAAKY/jFR7Q-jp8JA/s1600-h/DSC00366.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5191527297848000626" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_SbTM1KolYXQ/SAwCkk35QHI/AAAAAAAAAKY/jFR7Q-jp8JA/s200/DSC00366.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It has been a while since I received something from a Goonie. This is my second gift from one of them; chocolate and cheese muffins. Super yummy! They came at the most opportune time; when I was extremely famished and dying of hunger. Very sweet of her.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_SbTM1KolYXQ/SAwCB035QGI/AAAAAAAAAKQ/xY9sLwoW53U/s1600-h/DSC00367.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5191526700847546466" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_SbTM1KolYXQ/SAwCB035QGI/AAAAAAAAAKQ/xY9sLwoW53U/s200/DSC00367.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Check out the filling for the cheese muffin; they were in block forms and very tasty!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_SbTM1KolYXQ/SAwBC035QFI/AAAAAAAAAKI/0Wl-2Ee5vvE/s1600-h/DSC00368.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5191525618515787858" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_SbTM1KolYXQ/SAwBC035QFI/AAAAAAAAAKI/0Wl-2Ee5vvE/s200/DSC00368.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Went to my ex-institution's Speech Day last Saturday. When they announced the results for last year during the speech, I felt a sense of pride for my Baobeis; I choked and nearly cried. I missed them. But those buggers didn't even turn up. Lol.. If they did, they would not be Dedication 4!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Saw both of my Captain and Vice-Captain getting the CCA Awards. Very proud of them. They sure will do well in life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I didn't get to talk to many of the ex-Goonies. So many people to talk to; and I was late AGAIN! Some of them grew taller than me; some even looked prettier! :)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;By the way.. I'm going to be 31 soon.  Interesting..&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Lol..&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16821179-400714524006114716?l=twenty28eight.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://twenty28eight.blogspot.com/feeds/400714524006114716/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16821179&amp;postID=400714524006114716' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16821179/posts/default/400714524006114716'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16821179/posts/default/400714524006114716'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://twenty28eight.blogspot.com/2008/04/postblues.html' title='PostBlues'/><author><name>twenty28eight</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17757364471096294480</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3026/1607/1600/IMG_39841.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_SbTM1KolYXQ/SAwCkk35QHI/AAAAAAAAAKY/jFR7Q-jp8JA/s72-c/DSC00366.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16821179.post-3275801780327164346</id><published>2008-04-13T07:00:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2008-04-13T07:06:12.001+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Lady28'sStressed</title><content type='html'>There's nothing else to say..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Except that I'm stressed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Super stressed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Extremely stressed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dreadfully stressed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;With work.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The last time I recall that I was this stressed was when I was taking my 'A' Level.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Seven to eight years of dormant state.&lt;br /&gt;Wonder of it's a good thing to be the top of the crest under a coconut shell..&lt;br /&gt;Or struggling to keep afloat in the big blue ocean.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What say you?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16821179-3275801780327164346?l=twenty28eight.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://twenty28eight.blogspot.com/feeds/3275801780327164346/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16821179&amp;postID=3275801780327164346' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16821179/posts/default/3275801780327164346'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16821179/posts/default/3275801780327164346'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://twenty28eight.blogspot.com/2008/04/lady28sstressed.html' title='Lady28&apos;sStressed'/><author><name>twenty28eight</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17757364471096294480</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3026/1607/1600/IMG_39841.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16821179.post-3189832305341157977</id><published>2008-03-29T21:19:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2008-03-29T21:36:08.366+08:00</updated><title type='text'>I'mBlueDabediDabeda..</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_SbTM1KolYXQ/R-5CGMZCcYI/AAAAAAAAAKA/FC0sr9uQ1bo/s1600-h/DSC00359.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5183152895322911106" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_SbTM1KolYXQ/R-5CGMZCcYI/AAAAAAAAAKA/FC0sr9uQ1bo/s200/DSC00359.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; I'm behaving pretty weirdly as my birthday is approaching.  I'm avoiding all familiar contacts, wanting to hybernate and lose touch with the outside world.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My cough is not getting any better; one of my Goonies actually gave me the Strepsils yesterday before she went home.  Very sweet of her.  And talking about that, I miss my boys.  Lol..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Two good things happened to me this week.  I was very happy and determined that I must save more so that if I were to take a break, I can sustain my lifestyle.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Gave my family a treat yesterday.  Owe them that much.  But I think I was too tired and sick to enjoy the delicious food.  In fact, at some point of time while I'm talking, I couldn't really hear myself.  The stoopid phelgm is clogging up my throat, nose and even my ears.  I can't even sleep on one pillow or side ways or head down because I couldn't breathe.  Had to stack up three pillows to get a good rest.  Lame..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Feel like living my life in a trance.  So to give a boost of endorphines, I have started running on my treadmill again.  Feel good to punish myself physically.  Not that I'm a sadomasochistic.  The last time I did this was about six years ago.  That was to forget.  But now is to refresh myself.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Azza.. Azza.. Fighting!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16821179-3189832305341157977?l=twenty28eight.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://twenty28eight.blogspot.com/feeds/3189832305341157977/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16821179&amp;postID=3189832305341157977' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16821179/posts/default/3189832305341157977'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16821179/posts/default/3189832305341157977'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://twenty28eight.blogspot.com/2008/03/imbluedabedidabeda.html' title='I&apos;mBlueDabediDabeda..'/><author><name>twenty28eight</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17757364471096294480</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3026/1607/1600/IMG_39841.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_SbTM1KolYXQ/R-5CGMZCcYI/AAAAAAAAAKA/FC0sr9uQ1bo/s72-c/DSC00359.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16821179.post-5745815716440459018</id><published>2008-03-23T20:39:00.005+08:00</published><updated>2008-03-23T21:02:53.925+08:00</updated><title type='text'>SoreThroat&amp;RunningNose</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_SbTM1KolYXQ/R-ZP38ZCcWI/AAAAAAAAAJw/O9SQagzrS0E/s1600-h/DSC00346.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5180916243858878818" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_SbTM1KolYXQ/R-ZP38ZCcWI/AAAAAAAAAJw/O9SQagzrS0E/s200/DSC00346.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; I'm having a bad sore throat. It's painful to swallow and clogged with phelgm. All thanks to the teh tarik (refer to picture). Actually, I should have drunk plain water after that, but in my excitement with PurringFeline and two of our ex-Goonies, I went by the night with the teh tarik as my last drink. The teh tarik was a complimentary drink by our ex-Goonies; very sweet of them. But me, being me, drank it, knowing that it was going to cost my throat. I thought since it was the eve of Good Friday, I could enjoy anything I wanted. In the end, it's Sunday today, and I still am suffering from sore throat. What a loser..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_SbTM1KolYXQ/R-ZRbsZCcXI/AAAAAAAAAJ4/MgkrYLIujD8/s1600-h/DSC00358.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5180917957550829938" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_SbTM1KolYXQ/R-ZRbsZCcXI/AAAAAAAAAJ4/MgkrYLIujD8/s200/DSC00358.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Had a great night outing with PurringFeline. It was a rare occassion to go out with her; it was rarer to go out with her and go home at 0400! While waiting for our movie to start, we actually went online with her smart phone and chatted with JaroGee.  Didn't know smart phone can do so many things. I'm impressed!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My Good Friday was spent at a friend's house planning an item for two friends' birthday party. Never thought I was going to do such a thing again; the last time I did it was when I was in NUS. And that was about a deacade ago! Both of us were super excited; reminded me of the time I was in TJ, giggling and laughing at the things we were planning to do. After that, met up with GB and PinkMonkie for a movie. And as a sign of old age, I had a bad headache during the movie. Couldn't even drive properly. Plus the stoopid sore throat.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Saturday was the birthday party. I woke up sick, with running nose and sore throat. Was thinking of abandoning the idea of going for the party but my poor friend would be left stranded with the item. I finally went, after taking a nap just to stop my running nose.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have not gone to a birthday party for zillions of years. Felt kind of awkward there; besides the two birthday girls, I only knew three other people there. But I realised, as we grow older, we tend to be out of our comfort zone. So what to do? Just mingle around.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The party wasn't that bad. I actually did something which I thought I would never do. Lol.. In fact, in the midst of strangers. Haiz.. The next time I'm caught in such a situation, I will quietly desert my post. Lol..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And as a punishment of three-day of merry-making, I am down with sore throat and running nose. Am contemplating if I should go to work tomorrow. And has decided that I should give myself the rest. But I felt terribly guilty; I hate this feeling. Haiz.. So, to make myself feel better, I tell myself, I better rest. Or else, my sore throat will worsen. Lol.. Lame..&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16821179-5745815716440459018?l=twenty28eight.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://twenty28eight.blogspot.com/feeds/5745815716440459018/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16821179&amp;postID=5745815716440459018' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16821179/posts/default/5745815716440459018'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16821179/posts/default/5745815716440459018'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://twenty28eight.blogspot.com/2008/03/sorethroat.html' title='SoreThroat&amp;RunningNose'/><author><name>twenty28eight</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17757364471096294480</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3026/1607/1600/IMG_39841.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_SbTM1KolYXQ/R-ZP38ZCcWI/AAAAAAAAAJw/O9SQagzrS0E/s72-c/DSC00346.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16821179.post-5260390213832425704</id><published>2008-03-15T13:31:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2008-03-15T14:31:11.047+08:00</updated><title type='text'>TheFairyAndHerFavouriteLittleGnome</title><content type='html'>Once upon a time, there lived a a fairy with her little gnomes.  She found comfort in her little gnomes' presence despite the constant displeasure of the community with their rowdy and ill-disciplined behaviour.  They always made her laugh; and they always made her cry too.  But most importantly, they loved her and appreciated her presence, just like how she loved them and valued their company.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The fairy had one favourite gnome whom she always gave priority among the rest.  He would get the most attention and most candy as compared to the rest.  He, in turn, would spend his time with her and always made her day.  He would work hard to better his magical skills and the fairy would feel a certain pride that her little favourite gnome was doing well.  The fairy had no doubt that he would be successful in life and looked forward to the day that he was awarded the highest honour for his achievement in his magical skills.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Alas, the fairy made a decision to move on with her life, leaving behind what she had built for the past few years.  It was a difficult decision for her but if she didn't do it then, she would never do it.  She expected her favourite little gnome to continue what he had been doing; working hard in his magical skills and aiming to achieve the highest level.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But what he did broke her heart; he lost his will to pursue his craft and not wanting to worry her, kept his departure from the magical world a secret.  When she found out, she tried as her might to change his decision but to no avail.  She respected his decision and hoped that he would now pursue his other dream.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Months passed and the favourite little gnome was still living in his shell.  The fairy couldn't reach out to him anymore because he had created an invisible barrier to oust her out of his life.  Everytime she saw him, he was a ghost of his former self; aloof and alone.  It pained her that he was stagnant, so unlike him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One day, the fairy asked him, "If I were not to move on, would you continue your magical studies?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The little gnome answered, "Yes."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The fairy had always pondered if her decision to move on was wise.  Everything had been perfect in her new life except for her worry for her little favourite gnome.  She loathed the idea of regretting any decisions that she made; but this was one decision that would haunt her for the rest of her life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Everytime the fairy met up with her favourite little gnome, she would stare at him and muse.  And she would pray that he would morph back to his original self, the little gnome who always made her day.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16821179-5260390213832425704?l=twenty28eight.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://twenty28eight.blogspot.com/feeds/5260390213832425704/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16821179&amp;postID=5260390213832425704' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16821179/posts/default/5260390213832425704'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16821179/posts/default/5260390213832425704'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://twenty28eight.blogspot.com/2008/03/thefairyandherfavouritelittlegnome.html' title='TheFairyAndHerFavouriteLittleGnome'/><author><name>twenty28eight</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17757364471096294480</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3026/1607/1600/IMG_39841.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16821179.post-6691444563546515311</id><published>2008-03-14T03:08:00.004+08:00</published><updated>2008-03-14T03:21:24.925+08:00</updated><title type='text'>TitusVersusCasio</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_SbTM1KolYXQ/R9l88BFY4aI/AAAAAAAAAJg/YsqEPGDNc7Q/s1600-h/DSC00343.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5177306617164128674" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_SbTM1KolYXQ/R9l88BFY4aI/AAAAAAAAAJg/YsqEPGDNc7Q/s200/DSC00343.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; I gave in to temptation and finally bought it.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;A Titus.  Motor kinetic.  Snake skin.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Cool...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_SbTM1KolYXQ/R9l80RFY4ZI/AAAAAAAAAJY/y8nVN_WhaDo/s1600-h/DSC00339.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5177306484020142482" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_SbTM1KolYXQ/R9l80RFY4ZI/AAAAAAAAAJY/y8nVN_WhaDo/s200/DSC00339.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; P.H.Y.S.I.C.S also bought one.  Check out hers @the most right hand.&lt;br /&gt;PinkMonkie is wearing the Casio watch which we gave her for her birthday 2 years ago (the most left).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_SbTM1KolYXQ/R9l8DhFY4XI/AAAAAAAAAJM/_A8rxDTdRv8/s1600-h/DSC00341.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5177305646501519730" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_SbTM1KolYXQ/R9l8DhFY4XI/AAAAAAAAAJM/_A8rxDTdRv8/s200/DSC00341.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Finally.. everybody's watches.  GB's is the black Casio.  Stoopid guy didn't want to take a photo even after I said please TWICE!  Humph!&lt;br /&gt;Ended up, P.H.Y.S.I.C.S had to wear his watch so that we could take a pic.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Don't we look stunning?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16821179-6691444563546515311?l=twenty28eight.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://twenty28eight.blogspot.com/feeds/6691444563546515311/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16821179&amp;postID=6691444563546515311' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16821179/posts/default/6691444563546515311'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16821179/posts/default/6691444563546515311'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://twenty28eight.blogspot.com/2008/03/titusversuscasio.html' title='TitusVersusCasio'/><author><name>twenty28eight</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17757364471096294480</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3026/1607/1600/IMG_39841.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_SbTM1KolYXQ/R9l88BFY4aI/AAAAAAAAAJg/YsqEPGDNc7Q/s72-c/DSC00343.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16821179.post-3666622366899735548</id><published>2008-03-10T21:29:00.010+08:00</published><updated>2008-03-10T22:05:43.435+08:00</updated><title type='text'>FruitfulDay=MyCleanTable</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_SbTM1KolYXQ/R9U8jxFY4TI/AAAAAAAAAIs/viTNhYBzSRA/s1600-h/n707705970_654761_6217.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5176109931901280562" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_SbTM1KolYXQ/R9U8jxFY4TI/AAAAAAAAAIs/viTNhYBzSRA/s200/n707705970_654761_6217.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_SbTM1KolYXQ/R9U8TxFY4SI/AAAAAAAAAIk/poMZR43bs7U/s1600-h/n707705970_654758_3384.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5176109657023373602" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_SbTM1KolYXQ/R9U8TxFY4SI/AAAAAAAAAIk/poMZR43bs7U/s200/n707705970_654758_3384.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_SbTM1KolYXQ/R9U8jxFY4TI/AAAAAAAAAIs/viTNhYBzSRA/s1600-h/n707705970_654761_6217.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;VERSUS&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_SbTM1KolYXQ/R9U-sBFY4WI/AAAAAAAAAJE/ksgOAvGEGcE/s1600-h/DSC00336.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5176112272658456930" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_SbTM1KolYXQ/R9U-sBFY4WI/AAAAAAAAAJE/ksgOAvGEGcE/s200/DSC00336.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_SbTM1KolYXQ/R9U99RFY4VI/AAAAAAAAAI8/GC3GRVZe6p8/s1600-h/DSC00335.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5176111469499572562" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_SbTM1KolYXQ/R9U99RFY4VI/AAAAAAAAAI8/GC3GRVZe6p8/s200/DSC00335.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_SbTM1KolYXQ/R9U9gxFY4UI/AAAAAAAAAI0/HoW8jT9fxMM/s1600-h/DSC00334.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5176110979873300802" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_SbTM1KolYXQ/R9U9gxFY4UI/AAAAAAAAAI0/HoW8jT9fxMM/s200/DSC00334.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_SbTM1KolYXQ/R9U9gxFY4UI/AAAAAAAAAI0/HoW8jT9fxMM/s1600-h/DSC00334.JPG"&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_SbTM1KolYXQ/R9U9gxFY4UI/AAAAAAAAAI0/HoW8jT9fxMM/s1600-h/DSC00334.JPG"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I'm proud to say that I spent a fruitful day at work today. After the oral exam, I managed to clear some pending stuffs and my table is clean all over again. Now in a new environment, neither my Yo-Bo nor P.H.Y.S.I.C.S can help me clean my table anymore. So I have to be the responsible one. Lol.. I think they won't believe how spotless my domain is now.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I believe the workers who lock up my work area detest me to the core. I would be one of the few who would be last to leave. Always have to be kicked out by them. Today, again the guy came and told me, "Lock up at 6.30pm." As usual, I would hurry to pack my things up. But today, my sidekick didn't come to work so with no support to dilly dally, I quickly left the office.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Was contemplating to go Compasspoint to buy some stuff to munch but I felt so lazy. Especially when it was cold and the weather was fit to sleep in. So I ended up driving back home. Now at 9 plus, I feel so sleepy. I think I'll hit the sack after this.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Was planning to drive to JB tomorrow. But due to the unfortunate event where that JI guy had escaped, everybody told me that it was a bad idea because of the jam. Haiz.. I have not driven to JB for the longest time. Guess, I have to do my shopping in Singapore then.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Can't open my eyes anymore.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Time for slumberland..&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I sure am glad that today's a fruitful day..&lt;/div&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/16821179-3666622366899735548?l=twenty28eight.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://twenty28eight.blogspot.com/feeds/3666622366899735548/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16821179&amp;postID=3666622366899735548' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16821179/posts/default/3666622366899735548'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16821179/posts/default/3666622366899735548'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://twenty28eight.blogspot.com/2008/03/fruitfuldaymycleantable.html' title='FruitfulDay=MyCleanTable'/><author><name>twenty28eight</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17757364471096294480</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3026/1607/1600/IMG_39841.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_SbTM1KolYXQ/R9U8jxFY4TI/AAAAAAAAAIs/viTNhYBzSRA/s72-c/n707705970_654761_6217.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16821179.post-680673365798215921</id><published>2008-03-09T08:40:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2008-03-09T09:13:51.548+08:00</updated><title type='text'>WhatHappenedToMeForTheLast3Days</title><content type='html'>I actually set a record; no MC for this term. Pretty impressive, huh? But in the end, I fell sick yesterday. I went to work, thinking of clearing up all the stuff that I left behind (literally on the table) on Friday. But I was only there for an hour plus when I kept sneezing non-stop that I had to leave the place. Called GB up to ask if he wanted to eat ice cream. He was in the process of moving house and so, couldn't make it. Called PinkMonkie. But she was at a KTV lunch. So she couldn't make it either. Called P.H.Y.S.I.C.S. She had to babysit her niece and nephew. So I ended up going home and was sick the rest of the day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Alright.. my life seemed to be pretty messy. Let's start with Friday. There was Parent-Teacher Meeting (PTM) which supposedly started at 1330. I had an appointment with a mother at 1245. But she came even before the school ended so I and my Co-Form were rushing straight after our classes to attend to her. Those who made appoinments between 1330 to 1400 also came before 1300; as a result, both of us were flabbergasted because we just ended classes and weren't prepared. There was supposed to be another Potter helping us but that bugger seemed to disappear, with no reasons given. What the hell!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The PTM ended about 1800 so when I and my Co-Form wanted to close shop, another parents came at about 1815. Of course, we couldn't shoo them away, despite the official timing. Talked for about 10 to 15 minutes and finally, we cleared up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My day still had not ended yet. I had to go to this conference thingy; one Goonie of mine committed something outside so he had to be reviewed by the Instituition, counselor and police. Gosh.. despite all that, he was still recalcitrant. Think he is some big shot. Scolded me vulgarity when I advised him to wear his uniform properly! Bloody asshole. And I didn't even shouted at him. Haiz.. wish he can be locked up so that my life and my Goonie's life will be more peaceful.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was on the way down for that conference thingy when I spotted one of my Goonies with her mother. They had come late and since the place had been locked up, they assumed that I had gone home. When I saw them, I motioned for them to come back and I went up again to collect her report book. After talking for 10 to 15 minutes (again..), I went into the General Office for the conference thingy. But it had ended. Thank God! The last time I went to the conference thingy (which was last Friday), it lasted for more than 3 hours. I was super bored and uber tired by then!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thinking that my day had ended and finally, I could clean up my table and do my work, I started to reorganise my things. Then a Potter came and told me that a parent was outside waiting for me. Guess what time it was? 1900. Gosh.. That was more than an hour late! But I still met her and we talked about her daughter.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;By the time I ended, I had no mood to do work. I was supposed to have dinner with PinkMonkie et al but an ex-Goonie of mine called and said that they were going out for dessert. Plus one of them was driving. I was quite keen to meet my ex-Goonies because I had not seen them for the longest time. But I had to go home first because my Auntie needed my help. Unfortunately, by the time I finished helping her, I was dead tired. Super shag. I couldn't keep my eyes open. So I ended up not meeting anybody and slept.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The next day, I had to be at work by 1030 because I made an appoinment with a parent. Once I sat down to do work, I started sneezing non-stop. Gosh.. so lame. Plus, my old pals were driving me nuts with their needs and wants. I wanted to organise an outing for 5 of us since we had not met up together for the longest time. But everybody had their own wants and ended up, became my fault. You, guys, are arseholes, you know that? Yup, I'm super pissed. Needed time away from everybody. Better still.. I need to hybernate from all of you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was supposed to meet up an old friend for supper yesterday but I fell sick. So lame.. I really couldn't breathe properly (my nose was blocked and running at the same time. Duh!) and I was running a temperature. Woke up this morning feeling slightly weak and my nose so sore. I better get well today or else I had to cancel all my appoinments. Such a loser..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've already lined up what to do for my hols.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Joseph, can you do the planning instead? Friday will be good because I have plans from Monday all the way to Thursday. Be a good boy so that I won't shoot arrow at you when we meet. Can? Lol..&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16821179-680673365798215921?l=twenty28eight.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://twenty28eight.blogspot.com/feeds/680673365798215921/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16821179&amp;postID=680673365798215921' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16821179/posts/default/680673365798215921'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16821179/posts/default/680673365798215921'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://twenty28eight.blogspot.com/2008/03/i-actually-set-record-no-mc-for-this.html' title='WhatHappenedToMeForTheLast3Days'/><author><name>twenty28eight</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17757364471096294480</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3026/1607/1600/IMG_39841.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16821179.post-5104878370356884882</id><published>2008-02-29T13:04:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2008-02-29T13:09:25.814+08:00</updated><title type='text'>29thFebruary2008</title><content type='html'>Happy Leap Day, everyone!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have been looking forward to this day for the past few weeks.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Alas, I only discovered this week that I am down uber late for work.  Until 2130.  Who can beat that?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I thought that since this day comes only once every four years, I should be spending quality time on 29 February.  But then again, fate decrees that I have no life today.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Have to be a guardian to the Goonies @1320 for their 3-day workshop.  I'm so sleepy.  I think I sleep for  few minutes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anybody has plan after @2200?  Include me in, please.  I so don't have a life.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16821179-5104878370356884882?l=twenty28eight.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://twenty28eight.blogspot.com/feeds/5104878370356884882/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16821179&amp;postID=5104878370356884882' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16821179/posts/default/5104878370356884882'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16821179/posts/default/5104878370356884882'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://twenty28eight.blogspot.com/2008/02/29thfebruary2008.html' title='29thFebruary2008'/><author><name>twenty28eight</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17757364471096294480</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3026/1607/1600/IMG_39841.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16821179.post-2992656796854543394</id><published>2008-02-22T22:49:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2008-02-22T23:08:16.355+08:00</updated><title type='text'>I'dRatherHaveBadTimesWithYou..</title><content type='html'>I'm home on a Friday night after being ditched by my 'late-night' kakis (that's a hint to you PinkMonkie and GB :p).  Was surfing the internet when this song was played on Class95:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;I'd rather have bad times with you&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Than good times with someone else&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;I'd rather be beside you in a storm&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Than safe and warm by myself&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;I'd rather have hard times together&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Than to have it easy apart&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;I'd rather have the one who holds my heart&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It is a song by the late Luther Vandross.  And how true it is to me.  When something is endearing to you, it doesn't matter if you have to go through hell just to have it with you.  It is more worth it than having to let it go and ask yourself, "What if I had hold on to it?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All the "What ifs".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So the 'storm' that I had to endure last year is worth it.  Really worth my tears.  Because right now, what I can remember of my 'storm' is only the good memories.  My birthday celebration. Decorating the classroom to surprise me (I still have everybody's except for Mr Leong's birthday wishes for me.  Mr Leong, yours fell away and I think the auntie swept it away.). Our 'Secret' night out.  The stupid prank about one of you impregnate your ex-ex-girlfriend (hmm.. that many exes, huh?).  The GROWTH Camp.  Racial Harmony Day.  Teachers' Day.  My precious jade bangle.  Graduation Night.  New Year's Eve.  And many, many more which would pop up in my head during different times of the day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And everytime these memories came back to me, I will smile.  Contented that I was part of it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Gamsahamnida, Dedication4.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16821179-2992656796854543394?l=twenty28eight.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://twenty28eight.blogspot.com/feeds/2992656796854543394/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16821179&amp;postID=2992656796854543394' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16821179/posts/default/2992656796854543394'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16821179/posts/default/2992656796854543394'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://twenty28eight.blogspot.com/2008/02/idratherhavebadtimeswithyou.html' title='I&apos;dRatherHaveBadTimesWithYou..'/><author><name>twenty28eight</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17757364471096294480</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3026/1607/1600/IMG_39841.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16821179.post-787666748274659257</id><published>2008-02-12T21:34:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2008-02-12T22:11:01.229+08:00</updated><title type='text'>MelancholicDepression</title><content type='html'>I'm feeling melancholic.  Depressed is more precise.  I'm missing my old life so badly that I have problems sleeping.  I'm a very sentimental person.  I always have problems letting things go, especially when I have grown attached to them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Not that my new environment is bad.  In fact, it's a refreshing change.  Their focus on the Goonies is truly admirable but I do wish that they'll take a break and have a Kit Kat.  I wish for more slack time.  Currently, my new life is on the ball.  No X-Country.  No Sport's Day.  No frilly stuff.  In fact, my Speech Day was combined with CNY celebration!  Aaahhh...  Seriously fully maximised the time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Talking about X-Country, my old life is having it this Friday.  I miss X-Country.  I miss cheering for my class.  I miss feeling proud of my girls winning the top positions.  Such memories is priceless.  Am so glad I still have last year's X-Country picture with my girls.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Am glad to meet up with my Baobeis on eve of CNY too.  All of them came down except for Ms Chia, Mr Chan and Mr Yeo.  Hopefully, everybody can turn up for the next gathering.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I analyse why I am feeling so down:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;ol&gt;&lt;li&gt;I'm not driving to work.  Nowadays, my dad drives me there.  I realise that driving gives me quality time on my own.  I need my own space in the morning before I can start the day.  But now, I have my dad next to me.  And the journey, less than five minutes.  What quality time then?&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;I used to look forward choosing what clothes to wear.  But now, it doesn't matter.  Because with a 50-minute period, I can't possible stand on stilettos for two to three periods straight.  Tried once.  And my legs were cramped for the whole day.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;No more 'Anne asseyyo!'.  Last year, I always greeted with a shout "Anne asseyyo!" every morning.  This time round, there is no K-drama fans.  So I'm lost in translation.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;I always looked forward to see my Baobeis in the morning.  Don't ask me why but I liked the idea seeing them come to school and line up according to index number.  Especially when I saw No.5 reading his book.  It became a habit.  It became one of the somethings that I looked forward every morning.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;I miss having my four boy-boys looking for me during recess and shouted out my name as if the I was deaf in both ears.  Or them looking for me during their free periods (which they had a lot).  And we chit-chatted for no specific topics; just enjoying one another company.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;I miss my ex-Potters.  For their company.  And sometimes their 'illicit' bitchy conversations.  Haahaa..&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;I miss having an exciting CCA.  Am proud that the girls qualified for second round.  I wish I am still around to share their joy and pride.  Girls.. fighting!&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ol&gt;&lt;p&gt;Writing about all these make me feel melancholic.  And depressed all over again.  I bet I'm going ot have problem sleeping again tonight.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16821179-787666748274659257?l=twenty28eight.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://twenty28eight.blogspot.com/feeds/787666748274659257/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16821179&amp;postID=787666748274659257' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16821179/posts/default/787666748274659257'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16821179/posts/default/787666748274659257'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://twenty28eight.blogspot.com/2008/02/melancholicdepression.html' title='MelancholicDepression'/><author><name>twenty28eight</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17757364471096294480</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3026/1607/1600/IMG_39841.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16821179.post-6352959519955126540</id><published>2008-02-09T21:59:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2008-02-09T22:22:23.900+08:00</updated><title type='text'>TheNotebook</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_SbTM1KolYXQ/R62yA5R6xAI/AAAAAAAAAIc/SmuqAPYEiKE/s1600-h/1705421249_fdb04108e9.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5164980076109546498" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_SbTM1KolYXQ/R62yA5R6xAI/AAAAAAAAAIc/SmuqAPYEiKE/s200/1705421249_fdb04108e9.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I had just shed buckets of tears.  It had been a long time since I cried, feeling the lumps in my throat and my nose blocked as a result.  The last time was when I watched the Home Song Story with P.H.Y.S.I.C.S.  This time round was The Notebook.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Throughout the whole movie (it was shown on Channel 5), I kept feeling lumps in my throat.  But the last five minutes was classic; I bawled my eyes out, not caring that I watched the movie in my living room.  Thank God my parents were in their room!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I messsaged my Yo-Bo, PinkMonkie, GB and P.H.Y.S.I.C.S to watch the movie.  My Yo-Bo and GB were extremely pious today; they were that the church when I messaged them.  PinkMonkie was losing money gambling; told her to quit and watch the movie.  P.H.Y.S.I.C.S totally never responded; I bet she is in slumberland.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;The story started off with in a nursing home where an old man was reading a story about a young couple to an old woman.  The old man and the old woman were actually husband and wife, but the latter was suffering senile dementia and totally forgot who he was.  The story that he read out was about them; his wife had written it so that he could read out to her when she had forgotten about him.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;The sad thing is that when the story ended, she would recall who he was.  But it only lasted a few minutes!  After that, she would go berserk, thinking that he was a stranger.  By then, the nurses would sedate her.  And the cycled continued.  He actually stayed in the nursing home too so that he could take care of her.  Their children pleaded him to go home, saying that their mother had clearly forgotten about them.  But this was what he said to them:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;That's my sweetheart in there. Wherever she is, that's where my home is.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Man.. do I tear then!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Won't tell you what happened in the end.  Go and watch it.  Alone.  Or with your girlfriends.  A sure tear-jerker.  I still feel very melancholic about the whole movie.  Sniff..&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16821179-6352959519955126540?l=twenty28eight.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://twenty28eight.blogspot.com/feeds/6352959519955126540/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16821179&amp;postID=6352959519955126540' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16821179/posts/default/6352959519955126540'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16821179/posts/default/6352959519955126540'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://twenty28eight.blogspot.com/2008/02/thenotebook.html' title='TheNotebook'/><author><name>twenty28eight</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17757364471096294480</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3026/1607/1600/IMG_39841.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_SbTM1KolYXQ/R62yA5R6xAI/AAAAAAAAAIc/SmuqAPYEiKE/s72-c/1705421249_fdb04108e9.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16821179.post-2259927343947505411</id><published>2008-02-08T19:14:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2008-02-08T20:04:09.582+08:00</updated><title type='text'>MyChineseNewYear</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_SbTM1KolYXQ/R6xDiSjp1NI/AAAAAAAAAIU/VL7tlRmXMeU/s1600-h/P2070042.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5164577129063109842" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_SbTM1KolYXQ/R6xDiSjp1NI/AAAAAAAAAIU/VL7tlRmXMeU/s200/P2070042.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_SbTM1KolYXQ/R6xCuijp1MI/AAAAAAAAAIM/I1QGU_1nEtw/s1600-h/P2070043.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5164576240004879554" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_SbTM1KolYXQ/R6xCuijp1MI/AAAAAAAAAIM/I1QGU_1nEtw/s200/P2070043.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;had too much sun yesterday. My face is burnt and my nose is super red. All thanks to Zah and Fah who wanted to bask themselves in the sun and tan themselves. Me? I'm into fair skin. It's been a long time since I was fair; the last time my skin was fair was when I was in kindergarten.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;But that aside, I had a great time with my friends. We behaved like kids; taking stupid shots of ourselves, jumping in the air, blading, being picked up by Bangladeshis and watching 'Kung Fu Dunk'.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Picked up by Bangladeshis? Yeah.. all three of us. Extremely incomprehensible. The following conversation took place..&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;Fah and I were removing our blades. Down came a group of Bangladeshis and sat next to us.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;Bangladeshi #1: Running shoes?&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;I ignored him.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;Bangladeshi #1: Running shoes?&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;Zah: They are blades.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;Bangladeshi #2: You got problem?&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;Me: Problem???&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;Bangladeshi #2: You got problem? (pointed to the bench?)&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;Me: Problem???&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;Bangladeshi #2: You got problem? (pointed to the bench?)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me: Oh.. (comprehension sank in) You can sit here. No problem.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;Bangladeshi #2: You from China?&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;Me: Huh?&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;Bangladeshi #2: You from China?&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;Me: (laughing inside) No, we are locals.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;Fah: Hurry up.. Let's go (in Malay)&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;The three of us took off like nobody's business.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;Zah: Ti.. tell your mum not to worry anymore.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;Me: Why?&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;Zah: Remember.. she said if you are not married by 31, she'll find a road sweeper to marry you? Now no need. One Bangladeshi's interested in you.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;Me: Bloody #$%^&amp;amp;*!!!!&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;Fah: Haaahaaahaaa..&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;That was what happened in Sentosa. You have to admit that the whole place was infested with Bangladeshis. Hmm.. 'infested' is quite a negative word. 'Swarmed'? Everywhere you turned, you'll see them. I guess it was a day off for them and they needed the space to relax. But picking us up? Heesh.. that was a big NO NO!!!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Prior to our blading experience, we saw this Bangladeshi who looked as if he was naked. Zah and I couldn't stop laughing. He was actually wearing a swimming trunk which was brown in colour. Or maybe, he was wearing his underwear. God knows! He looked naked because his skin colour and his swimming trunk/underwear were the same colour! Haish.. luckily I don't have eye infection from seeing a spectacle!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;After that, we went to Vivo to watch 'Kung Fu Dunk'. Personally, I prefer 'Secret'. 'Kung Fu Dunk' was slightly over the top. And the hilarious thing was, everytime Jay Chou did a slam dunk, people in the theatre actually clapped! Yup.. THEY CLAPPED!!! Zah, Fah and I were incredulous, laughing our heads off. Man, they really were his fans. Heesh.. that's how crazy fans can be.. and we didn't know that! LOL..&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Today, I'm nursing my sunburnt at home. Feel so lazy to do any work. It's been a long time since we had a public holiday. Slack.. Slack.. Slack..&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&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/16821179-2259927343947505411?l=twenty28eight.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://twenty28eight.blogspot.com/feeds/2259927343947505411/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16821179&amp;postID=2259927343947505411' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16821179/posts/default/2259927343947505411'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16821179/posts/default/2259927343947505411'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://twenty28eight.blogspot.com/2008/02/mychinesenewyear.html' title='MyChineseNewYear'/><author><name>twenty28eight</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17757364471096294480</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3026/1607/1600/IMG_39841.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_SbTM1KolYXQ/R6xDiSjp1NI/AAAAAAAAAIU/VL7tlRmXMeU/s72-c/P2070042.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16821179.post-8112774188142919409</id><published>2008-01-29T21:22:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2008-01-29T21:46:29.519+08:00</updated><title type='text'>MondayAndTuesday</title><content type='html'>Just woke up from a long and fitful sleep. I went home at 2 plus and slept all the way to 7 plus. That's how tired I was. Actually was planning to watch the volleyball tournament but no 'kaki' to accompany me. Asked GB what he was going to do after the tournament; as usual, our 'obsessive' GB said, "Training lor." Heesh.. no life. So I decided to go home. Plus I felt light-headed. Only ate two paus and that was already 2 plus in the afternoon.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The others either had meeting, studying or printing papers. So off I went home to my humble abode, played with An-An for a while and slept. Haven't done any work yet. I feel so contented now. Lol.. I'm in dreamland.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yesterday, I had an upsetting day. And you know why I said so? Because I had dinner and went home late when it was only a Monday night! I was supposed to watch my girls yesterday but due to 'unforseen circumstances', I had a 'convention'! As they put it, if there is no notification, that means 'convention' is on! What the hell?!?! I actually checked the email since Saturday to confirm that there was no 'convention'. In fact, I actually checked again on Monday morning. What spurred me on yesterday was meeting my girls and cheered them during the tournament! During the whole 'convention', I kept looking at my watch and messaged my Yo-Bo. The convention finally ended at 5 plus. By that time, my girls had ended the match and they won! I'm so proud of them. And sad too. To miss them during their glorious moment. When I called the girls during their busride home, I wished I was there. When they said they missed me, I wanted to cry. Haiz.. I miss them badly. And yet, I couldn't even make it for their tournament.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Had dinner with Yo-Bo, PinkMonkie and GB. Was to upset to go home and do work. Went home pretty late. Haiz.. I noticed something about myself; when I'm upset, I tend to be delusional. In this case, having dinner at Tampines and went home late on Monday night. Insane!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;By the way, my rashes are lessening, thank you very much. Unfortunately, the pills to prevent the itch cause drowsiness and seriously, every night when I took it, I had an uneventful sleep. To a point I'm still drowsy when I woke up in the morning. Haiz.. don't know if I'm taking it tonight.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Another interesting point to blog is about my friend Zah and Nad. Lol.. They are having cold war. I know they are going to kill me. Again. For blogging about them. But seriously my dearest friends, we've been friends since seondary one. This year, all of us are going to be 31 soon. Forgive and forget le.. Each of us has a different meanings of life. Even though sometimes we mean well, others might not feel the same way.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One last thing to blog before I take my bath, I just found out from two of my current Goonies that their mothers are 32 and 34 years old. Told them I was 31 when they told me their mothers' ages. I was dumfounded! You work out the Maths. I lose ler..&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16821179-8112774188142919409?l=twenty28eight.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://twenty28eight.blogspot.com/feeds/8112774188142919409/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16821179&amp;postID=8112774188142919409' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16821179/posts/default/8112774188142919409'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16821179/posts/default/8112774188142919409'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://twenty28eight.blogspot.com/2008/01/mondayand-tuesday.html' title='MondayAndTuesday'/><author><name>twenty28eight</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17757364471096294480</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3026/1607/1600/IMG_39841.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16821179.post-6093896056237824560</id><published>2008-01-25T13:11:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2008-01-25T14:51:21.074+08:00</updated><title type='text'>TisGoodIt'sFriday!!!</title><content type='html'>I AM SO GLAD IT'S A BLOODY FRIDAY!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yipee.............................&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Have been waiting for this day since Monday.  Lol.. that's how desperate I am.  Sometimes I wonder if I should stop being a Potter.  I'm physically and mentally burnt up with fatigue.  I wish I am still studying.  Yup.. still studying.  Those were the days when my abysmal results didn't affect anybody but myself.  Now, if I were to stop working, I think I wouldn't live comfortably as I am living today.  Haiz.. there's always a price to pay.  All I need is a Brunei prince or an Indonesian tycoon to take a fancy of me and sweep me off my feet.  And I will live happily ever after.  Lol..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jokes aside, I'm proud to say that my cousin, Syasya, did pretty well for her 'O' Level.  Well done!  She scored 14 for 6 subjects and 11 for 5 subjects.  But she didnt' get to beat me!  Lol.. I still did better!  Lol..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My family always regards education as the utmost importance.  When I was young, my mum used to tell me that without education, people, even your own family, will look down on you.  My maternal grandmother's side (her brothers) used to be quite well-to-do.  My grandmother had 10 children and were quite poor.  Her brothers' family used to looked down at her family and during Hari Raya, they kind of ostracized my grndmother's family.  My mum had to stop studying after her 'O' Levels because my grandfather passed away of heart attack.  I guess, that's why she kept harping on me and my sister to do well.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;An ex-Goonie of mine once asked me this; between money and education, which one would I choose.  I told him education.  He chose money.  It's the way we were brought up.  And that's how we make our decision.  For me, no matter how rich I am, , life would not be fulfilling without knowledge.  It's just like an empty body which is beautifully corrected.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I used to want people to think the way I think.  But being a Potter teaches me that not everything I think is the right way of life.  As long as you believe in what you do, that 's what is important.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Haiz.. I digress again.  Being 31 makes one tends to ramble without a period.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Looking forward to this evening.  Gathering of the Potters for P.H.Y.S.I.C's and LaneigeQueen's birthday bash.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And meeting my Baobeis on the eve of CNY.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I miss them soooooooooooo much!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Fighting!!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16821179-6093896056237824560?l=twenty28eight.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://twenty28eight.blogspot.com/feeds/6093896056237824560/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16821179&amp;postID=6093896056237824560' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16821179/posts/default/6093896056237824560'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16821179/posts/default/6093896056237824560'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://twenty28eight.blogspot.com/2008/01/tisgooditsfriday.html' title='TisGoodIt&apos;sFriday!!!'/><author><name>twenty28eight</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17757364471096294480</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3026/1607/1600/IMG_39841.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16821179.post-7274054454890079700</id><published>2008-01-24T13:39:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2008-01-24T13:52:18.033+08:00</updated><title type='text'>StoopidRash</title><content type='html'>I'm having severe rashes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In the pursuit of eternal youth and beauty, I think I had consumed something that I am allergic with; seafood.  I had been consuming this collagen stuff so that my face can remain radiant and perky despite being over 30.  I think, after a few days, I had these rashes.  I thought I had eaten too much prawn or some other seafood.  So, I avoided them.  Vain as I am, I continued drinking the bottles of collagen.  But the rashes persisted.  In fact, it got worse.  I can even audition for a role as Sun Wukong.  Gracious!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;PinkMonkie and P.H.Y.S.I.C.S told me to lay off that collagen stuff and see if I were really allergic to it.  I had checked the ingredient; it contained some shark stuff.  Haiz.. PinkMonkie said shark is still considered under seafood.  How lame can I be?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thankfully, the rashes do not spread to my face.  Goodness.. I will DIE if my face is severely disfigured by red spots!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've decided to visit the doctor either today or tomorrow.  I think I need some antibiotics.  What a waste of money...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16821179-7274054454890079700?l=twenty28eight.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://twenty28eight.blogspot.com/feeds/7274054454890079700/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16821179&amp;postID=7274054454890079700' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16821179/posts/default/7274054454890079700'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16821179/posts/default/7274054454890079700'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://twenty28eight.blogspot.com/2008/01/stoopidrash.html' title='StoopidRash'/><author><name>twenty28eight</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17757364471096294480</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3026/1607/1600/IMG_39841.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16821179.post-963540855458881396</id><published>2008-01-20T13:18:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2008-01-20T13:38:37.167+08:00</updated><title type='text'>LappieAndBaobeis</title><content type='html'>I got myself a new lappie.  Petite.  And chio.  Just like me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Alright.. stop puking.  Or else you'll spend the rest of your day cleaning up the mess.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, I got myself a new lappie since my old one has 'cancer'.  This is a term coined by me when I asked the guy who repaired my old laptop if the rest of the functions of my old laptop will be affected since the motherboard (Gosh.. like a spaceship, huh?) is spoilt.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Err.. super long sentence.  But being a laptop idiot (but not an IT idiot!!!), this is how I comprehend the guy's explanation.  The guy laughed on the phone when I asked him if it was like 'cancer'.  And he said, "Yeah, something like that."  See.. I translated it in layman's term.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My life is quite smooth sailing ever since I moved to a new environment.  Sans the stoopid 'wantan mee' calling and Ahjumma's irksome presence despite being so far away from her, my life is fine.  I miss my ex-Potters and my Baobeis dearly.  And my netballers.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My new activity is super humdrum.  I could actually complete my work while waiting it to end.  When I was in netball, I actually had to run around or sat down to watch my girls play.  And screamed and shouted.  And jumped and laughed.  But with my new activity, I just sat down and did my own work.  Hmm.. must give it some time.  Hopefully, it'll be more exciting.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Went out with my Baobeis on the eve of 2008.  For the first time in my life, I played pool.  Lol..  The boys were teaching me about angles and were very encouraging.  Supposed to watch the firework and went all the way to Marina Bay.  But it was too dark and muddy.  Poor Emo Guy had his sneakers soaked in mud when he volunteered to explore the place.  We ended up sitting at the carpark and ate the tidbits because there was nothing to do.  The arcade and bowling alley was closed (as in closed down!).  Oh, yeah.. we actually walked from the MRT all the way to Marina Bay.  Lol.. my boys were cussing and swearing!  Heesh.. lame la them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;By the time that we realised we couldn't find any spot to watch the firework, everyone was scolding Mr Tay for his poor idea.  Poor Mr Tay.  Personally, I thought his idea was good but unfortunately, not the logistics.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We ended up in Orchard watching Body#19.  Please don't watch it.  Sucks big time..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But I had a great time with my Baobeis.  Last stop, Jalan Kayu.  By that time, which was 6 plus in the morning, my mum called me up to check on me.  Haiz.. So, I had to rush home.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thanks, Baobeis.  For the good New Year.  :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16821179-963540855458881396?l=twenty28eight.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://twenty28eight.blogspot.com/feeds/963540855458881396/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16821179&amp;postID=963540855458881396' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16821179/posts/default/963540855458881396'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16821179/posts/default/963540855458881396'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://twenty28eight.blogspot.com/2008/01/lappieandbaobeis.html' title='LappieAndBaobeis'/><author><name>twenty28eight</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17757364471096294480</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3026/1607/1600/IMG_39841.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16821179.post-8479107517614268924</id><published>2008-01-18T00:20:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2008-01-18T00:30:23.343+08:00</updated><title type='text'>OnePhoneCallAndTwoWins</title><content type='html'>I had a good day today.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Until I received a call.  Damn..  Ahjumma really made me so incensed and upset today.  Called P.H.Y.S.I.C.S to complain to her.  Felt slightly better.  But seriously, my day was spoilt.  Even after an absence of about 3 weeks, she still can spoil my day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My plan was to go home straight after work but I need friends' company to rejuvenate me.  P.H.Y.S.I.C.S's mum cooked for dinner so she couldn't have dinner with me.  I managed to get PinkMonkie and planned to meet her for dinner.  Tried to get GB but that bugger turned his handphone on silent mode and only realised that when he was home.  But must give him some credit.  At least he drove all the way to Hougang to meet us for dinner.  Gamsahamnida, the two of you.  And gamsahamnida, P.H.Y.S.I.C.S, for listening to my complaint again for the umpteenth time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;By the way, my netballers did well.  So proud and happy for them.  Too bad I couldn't attend both matches.  Come on, girls!  Continue the hardwork!  Fighting!!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16821179-8479107517614268924?l=twenty28eight.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://twenty28eight.blogspot.com/feeds/8479107517614268924/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16821179&amp;postID=8479107517614268924' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16821179/posts/default/8479107517614268924'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16821179/posts/default/8479107517614268924'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://twenty28eight.blogspot.com/2008/01/onephonecallandtwowins.html' title='OnePhoneCallAndTwoWins'/><author><name>twenty28eight</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17757364471096294480</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3026/1607/1600/IMG_39841.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16821179.post-7916794772847411084</id><published>2008-01-17T00:16:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2008-01-17T00:23:20.947+08:00</updated><title type='text'>MyNewLappieAspire2920Z</title><content type='html'>I got myself a new laptop!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Small and petite. Just like me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;GB got himself a new camera. Quite chio. But not as chio as my laptop. :p&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16821179-7916794772847411084?l=twenty28eight.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://twenty28eight.blogspot.com/feeds/7916794772847411084/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16821179&amp;postID=7916794772847411084' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16821179/posts/default/7916794772847411084'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16821179/posts/default/7916794772847411084'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://twenty28eight.blogspot.com/2008/01/mynewlappieaspire2920z.html' title='MyNewLappieAspire2920Z'/><author><name>twenty28eight</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17757364471096294480</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3026/1607/1600/IMG_39841.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16821179.post-4350386561315704431</id><published>2008-01-15T14:14:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2008-01-15T14:25:00.170+08:00</updated><title type='text'>DisorganisedMeetings</title><content type='html'>Where am I now?  In school, waiting for another ad-hoc meeting to begin @1430.  Next meeting is @1500; some Cockpit stuff.  Though I am satisfied with the new environment (sans the unisex toilet!!!), I just wish that the meetings would be more well-planned because there are so many other things I would like to do.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. My markings&lt;br /&gt;2. Meet my Baobeis&lt;br /&gt;3. Meet my ex-Potters&lt;br /&gt;4. Watch my netballers play for the tournaments&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;During assembly, my new Institution invited the SAF Music Ensemble (is that their name???) to perform.  All the NS boys were playing Chinese instruments.  Not bad.  But one song caught my attention; Dong Hua.  Waaa.. love this song.  I always told my ex-Potters to sing during karaoke session.  Besides that, I remembered my Dear-Dear and Mr Tay sang that for me, after much coercion.  Lol..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh, dear!  1430.. Haiz.. time for meeting.  Will be back to continue my life story!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Fighting!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16821179-4350386561315704431?l=twenty28eight.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://twenty28eight.blogspot.com/feeds/4350386561315704431/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16821179&amp;postID=4350386561315704431' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16821179/posts/default/4350386561315704431'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16821179/posts/default/4350386561315704431'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://twenty28eight.blogspot.com/2008/01/disorganisedmeetings.html' title='DisorganisedMeetings'/><author><name>twenty28eight</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17757364471096294480</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3026/1607/1600/IMG_39841.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16821179.post-2036702463179606688</id><published>2008-01-09T00:43:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2008-01-09T00:50:40.600+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Decision</title><content type='html'>For the first time in 2008, I cried.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wish to write all the happy things that I did before 2007 ended but somehow, something happened and I wish I have the power to make things different.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wish you all the best then.  Your future plan seems very convincing and well-thought out.  But it's a pity.  With your intelligence and resilience, I've always thought you will do well this year.  But whichever path you take, I will support your decision.  Fighting!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16821179-2036702463179606688?l=twenty28eight.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://twenty28eight.blogspot.com/feeds/2036702463179606688/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16821179&amp;postID=2036702463179606688' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16821179/posts/default/2036702463179606688'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16821179/posts/default/2036702463179606688'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://twenty28eight.blogspot.com/2008/01/decision.html' title='Decision'/><author><name>twenty28eight</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17757364471096294480</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3026/1607/1600/IMG_39841.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16821179.post-6221011728067386096</id><published>2007-12-19T10:47:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2007-12-19T11:17:14.908+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Yesterday..</title><content type='html'>"Can I carry them for you?" he asked.  She smiled and gave the load to him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"This is going to be the last time he carries things for me," she thought to herself, as he walked in front of her, up the staircase.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Again that sense of loss overwhelmed her.  There was always that slight doubt at the back of her mind; was she doing the right thing?  Leaving everything that she was comfortable and happy with for something unfamiliar and unknown?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I have something for you.  Wait here."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She sprinted out of the door and in less than a minute, came back with a disc.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"For you," she passed the disc to her.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Watch it now."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She slipped the disc in and a collage of her pictures and friends appeared on the monitor screen, accompanied by all the Korean songs that she loved.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"You did this all by yourself?" she asked.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Yeah, but I asked the others to pass me the photos," she answered, smiling.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She felt a lump in her throat.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Thanks, Yo-Bo," she said, giving her a hug.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Why don't you join us at Mac?" he asked.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I can't.  I'm going out with them," she answered, pointing to the group of people behind the glass.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He shook her hand and gave her a hug.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Again that self-doubt manifested at the back of her mind.  And again, she tried to dismiss it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Life has to move on.  There will always be changes," she tried to rationalise.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I'm going to miss them.  Especially him."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; I want to eat ta hui.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16821179-6221011728067386096?l=twenty28eight.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://twenty28eight.blogspot.com/feeds/6221011728067386096/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16821179&amp;postID=6221011728067386096' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16821179/posts/default/6221011728067386096'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16821179/posts/default/6221011728067386096'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://twenty28eight.blogspot.com/2007/12/yesterday.html' title='Yesterday..'/><author><name>twenty28eight</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17757364471096294480</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3026/1607/1600/IMG_39841.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16821179.post-6263209107696060319</id><published>2007-12-16T11:08:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-12-16T11:19:21.403+08:00</updated><title type='text'>TeenTitansWannaBe</title><content type='html'>Oh, yesh..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Video from the camp, compliment from Bev. Our two seniors aspiring to be the next Teen Titans. LOL..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="320" height="266" class="BLOG_video_class" id="BLOG_video-dffb84e92769de88" classid="clsid:D27CDB6E-AE6D-11cf-96B8-444553540000" codebase="http://download.macromedia.com/pub/shockwave/cabs/flash/swflash.cab#version=6,0,40,0"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/get_player"&gt;&lt;param name="bgcolor" value="#FFFFFF"&gt;&lt;param name="allowfullscreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="flashvars" value="flvurl=http://v1.nonxt6.googlevideo.com/videoplayback?id%3Ddffb84e92769de88%26itag%3D5%26app%3Dblogger%26ip%3D0.0.0.0%26ipbits%3D0%26expire%3D1330031434%26sparams%3Did,itag,ip,ipbits,expire%26signature%3D59E1F5C92D0AB02548C417037C9D4A5AF9306494.1D1D3FAF479EDCE4EB399752F998E4EDA695C4D7%26key%3Dck1&amp;amp;iurl=http://video.google.com/ThumbnailServer2?app%3Dblogger%26contentid%3Ddffb84e92769de88%26offsetms%3D5000%26itag%3Dw160%26sigh%3DoFGBh_OriRgZP4A9QL5wgN6FCiM&amp;amp;autoplay=0&amp;amp;ps=blogger"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/get_player" type="application/x-shockwave-flash"width="320" height="266" bgcolor="#FFFFFF"flashvars="flvurl=http://v1.nonxt6.googlevideo.com/videoplayback?id%3Ddffb84e92769de88%26itag%3D5%26app%3Dblogger%26ip%3D0.0.0.0%26ipbits%3D0%26expire%3D1330031434%26sparams%3Did,itag,ip,ipbits,expire%26signature%3D59E1F5C92D0AB02548C417037C9D4A5AF9306494.1D1D3FAF479EDCE4EB399752F998E4EDA695C4D7%26key%3Dck1&amp;iurl=http://video.google.com/ThumbnailServer2?app%3Dblogger%26contentid%3Ddffb84e92769de88%26offsetms%3D5000%26itag%3Dw160%26sigh%3DoFGBh_OriRgZP4A9QL5wgN6FCiM&amp;autoplay=0&amp;ps=blogger"allowFullScreen="true" /&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16821179-6263209107696060319?l=twenty28eight.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='enclosure' type='video/mp4' href='http://www.blogger.com/video-play.mp4?contentId=dffb84e92769de88&amp;type=video%2Fmp4' length='0'/><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://twenty28eight.blogspot.com/feeds/6263209107696060319/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16821179&amp;postID=6263209107696060319' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16821179/posts/default/6263209107696060319'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16821179/posts/default/6263209107696060319'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://twenty28eight.blogspot.com/2007/12/oh-yesh.html' title='TeenTitansWannaBe'/><author><name>twenty28eight</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17757364471096294480</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3026/1607/1600/IMG_39841.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16821179.post-7039742015558970670</id><published>2007-12-15T16:48:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-12-15T19:46:00.197+08:00</updated><title type='text'>MissMyNetballers..</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;I was woken up at 9 plus in the morning by my mum to go to a neighbour's solemnization ceremony. And I don't even know this neighbour well. How bizarre can that be? I slept pretty late last night. Or should I say.. slept in the early wee morning at about 4am.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;  &lt;div&gt;Came back from netball camp and was totally crashed out. I actually slept on my parents' bed until they came back at 11 plus at night. Uber shag. All thanks to Bev, Jiawen, Mika, Joanna and Alishia who kept me awake until 2 plus in the morning. :p Haiz.. I miss you, gals.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After I had my bath, I couldn't sleep so I surfed the net. My camera battery was flat so I couldn't upload the pictures yet. That was why I slept so late and was so grouchy throughout the wedding solemnization. I was bored to tears!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Anyway, netball camp was great! Sans the cold water! Gosh.. I have not bathed in cold water for eons. It was like mental and physical torture. And it doesn't help when you bathe after 12am.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;The poor girls had friendly matches for three days in a row. Watched most of the matches and am proud to say that the 'C' girls are very united. They work well with one another and bonded like sisters. And these girls are so primary-school cute!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;But I'm going to miss my 'B' girls most. Especially Bev and Jiawen who have been working with me since they were in Sec One. Gamsahamnida to both of you! Without the two of you, I don't think I can do it alone. :)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Anyway.. picture time!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5144125911864043474" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_SbTM1KolYXQ/R2ObQxiJ59I/AAAAAAAAAGE/aoiD0xo9z0I/s200/PC120001.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;It was raining like there was no tomorrow on the first day of camp. The girls took some swipers to clear the court of water.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5144127818829522914" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_SbTM1KolYXQ/R2Oc_xiJ5-I/AAAAAAAAAGM/izEYjoe6mcI/s200/PC120002.JPG" border="0" /&gt; Umpire for the day, Miss Lam Xin Ni. Lol..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5144129953428269042" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_SbTM1KolYXQ/R2Oe8BiJ5_I/AAAAAAAAAGU/noEs5VuNx6k/s200/PC120006.JPG" border="0" /&gt; The girls after a friendly match.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5144157501348505762" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_SbTM1KolYXQ/R2O3_hiJ6KI/AAAAAAAAAHs/3tXPnDxxR5k/s200/PC120012.JPG" border="0" /&gt;My favourite captain.. Bev!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5144158398996670642" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_SbTM1KolYXQ/R2O4zxiJ6LI/AAAAAAAAAH0/cVK_E90EKuI/s200/PC120015.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;And her bestie.. Jiawen!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5144149246421362802" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_SbTM1KolYXQ/R2OwfBiJ6HI/AAAAAAAAAHU/08McX8X8BBY/s200/PC120022.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5144150835559262338" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_SbTM1KolYXQ/R2Ox7hiJ6II/AAAAAAAAAHc/_p1PrH5MoTk/s200/DSCF0943.jpg" border="0" /&gt;The girls did a mock court in the hall.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5144142584927086658" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_SbTM1KolYXQ/R2OqbRiJ6EI/AAAAAAAAAG8/Vbz4n8p8xws/s200/PC120025.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5144145969361315922" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_SbTM1KolYXQ/R2OtgRiJ6FI/AAAAAAAAAHE/1a_tXbRST5o/s200/PC120030.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5144147262146472034" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_SbTM1KolYXQ/R2OurhiJ6GI/AAAAAAAAAHM/NgMK4UmLn3s/s200/PC140051.JPG" border="0" /&gt; Fooling around with my camera.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5144162088373577922" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_SbTM1KolYXQ/R2O8KhiJ6MI/AAAAAAAAAH8/H9StEH3h7Wc/s200/PC140075.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5144139870507755554" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_SbTM1KolYXQ/R2On9RiJ6CI/AAAAAAAAAGs/sHaGPl33YzU/s200/PC140053.JPG" border="0" /&gt; My gifts.. Gamsahamnida!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5144136915570255874" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_SbTM1KolYXQ/R2OlRRiJ6AI/AAAAAAAAAGc/tUnqRVPb2dY/s200/PC140079.JPG" border="0" /&gt; &lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5144138161110771730" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_SbTM1KolYXQ/R2OmZxiJ6BI/AAAAAAAAAGk/jdPnX7pVCvM/s200/PC140083.JPG" border="0" /&gt; &lt;p align="left"&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;And of course.. spastic faces! Lol..&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&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/16821179-7039742015558970670?l=twenty28eight.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://twenty28eight.blogspot.com/feeds/7039742015558970670/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16821179&amp;postID=7039742015558970670' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16821179/posts/default/7039742015558970670'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16821179/posts/default/7039742015558970670'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://twenty28eight.blogspot.com/2007/12/missmynetballers.html' title='MissMyNetballers..'/><author><name>twenty28eight</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17757364471096294480</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3026/1607/1600/IMG_39841.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_SbTM1KolYXQ/R2ObQxiJ59I/AAAAAAAAAGE/aoiD0xo9z0I/s72-c/PC120001.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16821179.post-1663854113525086920</id><published>2007-12-10T03:22:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-12-10T04:24:01.869+08:00</updated><title type='text'>AtTwoPlusInTheMorning</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Check out my tagboard. I'm bombarded by my netballers. I don't know how Bev found me but she is sure damn (should I use this word???) resourceful. Lol..&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I've been good recently. Cleaned my middle room a.k.a study room a.k.a Farhan's Room (declared by him. Heesh..). I actually had six bags full of rubbish (imagine the black rubbish bags that you used during BBQ); rubbish since 2003. Lame, right? I sure love to keep things. I actually came across my Sec 4 seating plan which was done by me. Waa.. I sure miss Cedar. I found old pictures (feeling sentimental) and things like my report cards, organisers, etc. So imagine the junks I have?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Next on the list of being a good 30-year old girl (woman??) is to clean my room. Planning with Fah to redesign my room. I have been keeping my room pretty simple; concept's white. But I'm getting bored and need to revamp it. 2008 will be a new year for me. I just need something different to spur me on. So Fah, after your KL trip, let's go shopping!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Bought another watch today. Lol.. Exactly the same with Fah. I'm totally crazy about watches. When I used not to have a car back then, I will always buy a watch every time I get my pay. But of course, I can't beat my Yo-Bo. She has dozens of watches to a point she can open a shop? A-ris-to, Yo-Bo? This is the third watch I bought in a month. When I was in HK, I bought a Titus and Mickey Mouse watch (of course I have to buy one since I visited Disneyland!). Check them out. So chio!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5142069082546912610" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_SbTM1KolYXQ/R1xMljO6PWI/AAAAAAAAAF8/zsOWIpOIpsM/s200/PC100022.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5142068176308813138" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_SbTM1KolYXQ/R1xLwzO6PVI/AAAAAAAAAF0/ZVFXDRFK9Cs/s200/PC100023.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5142067355970059586" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_SbTM1KolYXQ/R1xLBDO6PUI/AAAAAAAAAFs/u_zgtSM15Yw/s200/PC100026.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I'm still coughing.  But not as bad as when I just returned back.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;About a week left before THE RESULTS is out.  Yo-Bo and I were discussing just now who would be the top contender.  I have someone in mind.  Really hope he comes out the top.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Fighting!  ;-)&lt;/div&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/16821179-1663854113525086920?l=twenty28eight.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://twenty28eight.blogspot.com/feeds/1663854113525086920/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16821179&amp;postID=1663854113525086920' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16821179/posts/default/1663854113525086920'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16821179/posts/default/1663854113525086920'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://twenty28eight.blogspot.com/2007/12/attwoplusinthemorning.html' title='AtTwoPlusInTheMorning'/><author><name>twenty28eight</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17757364471096294480</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3026/1607/1600/IMG_39841.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_SbTM1KolYXQ/R1xMljO6PWI/AAAAAAAAAF8/zsOWIpOIpsM/s72-c/PC100022.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16821179.post-1990931252121406791</id><published>2007-11-29T22:30:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-11-29T22:41:03.829+08:00</updated><title type='text'>IAmBack!!!</title><content type='html'>I'm finally back!  And I miss my bed!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Macau and Hong Kong were great but I miss Singapore!  Lol..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Kinda ferverish now.  Before I left for Macau, I already had a bad cough.  Upon reaching there, P.H.Y.S.I.C.S  and LaneigeQueen made me drink some cooling drink.  It worked; my cough got better.  But when Ireturned from Hong Kong to Macau, the wind was so strong and cold that my cough returned.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Going doctor tomorrow.  Can't afford to be sick for the hols.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Will continue my adventure later.  Gotta rest..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Annehigaseyyo!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16821179-1990931252121406791?l=twenty28eight.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://twenty28eight.blogspot.com/feeds/1990931252121406791/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16821179&amp;postID=1990931252121406791' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16821179/posts/default/1990931252121406791'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16821179/posts/default/1990931252121406791'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://twenty28eight.blogspot.com/2007/11/iamback.html' title='IAmBack!!!'/><author><name>twenty28eight</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17757364471096294480</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3026/1607/1600/IMG_39841.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16821179.post-2070618858569528007</id><published>2007-11-24T02:13:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-11-24T02:25:44.370+08:00</updated><title type='text'>OneTwoThree</title><content type='html'>Feeling slightly emo now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've learnt over the years that there are three ways that I can get over my emo state temporarily.  Only temporarily..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;ol&gt;&lt;li&gt;Sleep.  When I'm depressed or in I-want-to-escape-from-reality mood, I can actually sleep the whole day.  Sleep helps me not to think about my problem or shut whatever that is bothering me.  And I'm doing it a lot these days.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Watch K-drama or J-drama.  The plots usually let you engulfed in sympathising or rejoicing with the characters.  That's when you forget your own miserable life.  And realise that there's a pot of gold at the end of the rainbow.  Only if you seek for it.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Cut off ties with whatever that is upsetting you.  I've done it a few years ago.  And it actually works.  But now, I'm at peace with this 'whatever'.  In fact, I'm on talking terms with 'whatever'.  Amazing.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ol&gt;&lt;p&gt;So far, I've been doing the first two for the past few weeks.  I guess, if I'm still bothered, I have to resort to No.3.  Maybe that's for the best.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16821179-2070618858569528007?l=twenty28eight.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://twenty28eight.blogspot.com/feeds/2070618858569528007/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16821179&amp;postID=2070618858569528007' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16821179/posts/default/2070618858569528007'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16821179/posts/default/2070618858569528007'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://twenty28eight.blogspot.com/2007/11/onetwothree.html' title='OneTwoThree'/><author><name>twenty28eight</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17757364471096294480</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3026/1607/1600/IMG_39841.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16821179.post-5551911200805081068</id><published>2007-11-22T10:24:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-11-22T11:04:34.114+08:00</updated><title type='text'>TimeToPerkUp!</title><content type='html'>My past entries had been rather dreadry and pessimistic.  Time to perk up the mood.  Can't afford to be morose for the rest of 2007.  Fighting!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Had lunch with Mr Tay yesterday.  It's nice to see him again; haven't been shooting my arrows (suan-ing) at him for some time.  Miss him!  Lol.. Didn't think that I would say that.  I miss the rest too.  But the other three couldn't make it.  One was meeting his girlfriend, one was working and the other was at home (his mother had bought loads of food for him).  But I'm meeting Emo Guy this Friday for dinner before Metier and Mr Foo after I come back from my holidays.  Looking forward to it!  :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Not feeling that well.  My throat's slightly sore and I keep having running nose.  And I'm flying off this Sunday.  Haiz..  Mr Rene advised me to go to the doctor but I feel that it's a waste of money.  Hmm.. I'll try to self-medicate first.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Had a farewell dinner yesterday.  Too bad most of them couldn't make it.  After that, we actually went to an arcade to be juveniles!  Must thank Bridging Gap 2007.  Had so much fun, especially watching GB#1 doing the Para Para Dance.  Lol.. He sure was good.  Climbed up all the levels and even had his name written in the machine!  Me?  I failed at stage 1.  Super lame!  Lol..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After that, we went to KBox.  Got loads of Taki's HERO door hangers.  And PinkMonkie got two free tickets to watch HERO!  Waa..  Should have volunteered to pay.  Then I would get the tickets.  Lol..  Anyway, I've watched HERO.  If you love Taki and Takako, you would love the movie.  We sang until 1 plus?  I was still wide awake but the rest of them were stoned.  Sometimes I think there's something wrong with my body clock.  Very bizarre.  When others  are tired, I'll be like an Energizer bunny.  When I'm super shag, the others are so alert and awake.  Strange.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm listening to Jay Chou's new album now.  Compliments from Mr Rene.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Will be meeting PurringFeline later to make my car plates.  My front car plate literally disappear from sight.  My dad suspected foul play but I don't think that was the case.  I mean, who would be so boh-liao to peel off my car plate?  Heesh..  Anyway, I think it might have dropped off because there was heavy rain during the weekend.  Luckily I wasn't the one who was using the car.  Or else I can hear endless ranting from my dad.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Haiz.. my nose is doing its marathon now.  Need to eat medicine.  And rest.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;*twenty28eight is going to watch more Japanese dramas*&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16821179-5551911200805081068?l=twenty28eight.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://twenty28eight.blogspot.com/feeds/5551911200805081068/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16821179&amp;postID=5551911200805081068' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16821179/posts/default/5551911200805081068'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16821179/posts/default/5551911200805081068'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://twenty28eight.blogspot.com/2007/11/timetoperkup.html' title='TimeToPerkUp!'/><author><name>twenty28eight</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17757364471096294480</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3026/1607/1600/IMG_39841.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16821179.post-6027916449709896782</id><published>2007-11-20T01:12:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-11-20T01:14:41.388+08:00</updated><title type='text'>You</title><content type='html'>Just stay away from me.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16821179-6027916449709896782?l=twenty28eight.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://twenty28eight.blogspot.com/feeds/6027916449709896782/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16821179&amp;postID=6027916449709896782' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16821179/posts/default/6027916449709896782'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16821179/posts/default/6027916449709896782'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://twenty28eight.blogspot.com/2007/11/you.html' title='You'/><author><name>twenty28eight</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17757364471096294480</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3026/1607/1600/IMG_39841.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16821179.post-5790717248017544741</id><published>2007-11-19T16:45:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-11-19T16:54:42.944+08:00</updated><title type='text'>i'mlostagain</title><content type='html'>Silly me.  Silly me.  Silly me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How can one be foolish zillions of times?  How many times have I told myself that every forward step I take, I should not turn back and take a glance of the past?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I thought I was resolute about this but as usual, being curious and taking a chance, I turn back to look at the past and was soundly slapped across the face.  With just two words.  Two miserable words.  And this is going to spoil my whole day.  Correction.  My whole week.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm lost again..&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16821179-5790717248017544741?l=twenty28eight.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://twenty28eight.blogspot.com/feeds/5790717248017544741/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16821179&amp;postID=5790717248017544741' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16821179/posts/default/5790717248017544741'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16821179/posts/default/5790717248017544741'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://twenty28eight.blogspot.com/2007/11/imlostagain.html' title='i&apos;mlostagain'/><author><name>twenty28eight</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17757364471096294480</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3026/1607/1600/IMG_39841.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16821179.post-2243793313699595371</id><published>2007-11-11T22:28:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-11-11T22:33:21.953+08:00</updated><title type='text'>ClumsyGoKart</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_SbTM1KolYXQ/RzcRzbp6-yI/AAAAAAAAAFk/hxSVt5uklaY/s1600-h/DSC00051.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5131589875706559266" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_SbTM1KolYXQ/RzcRzbp6-yI/AAAAAAAAAFk/hxSVt5uklaY/s200/DSC00051.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; This is the result of being clumsy when playing go-kart.  Doesn't look that bad in the picture but it looks damn purplish-blue and I only noticed it on Saturday.  Lame..&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/16821179-2243793313699595371?l=twenty28eight.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://twenty28eight.blogspot.com/feeds/2243793313699595371/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16821179&amp;postID=2243793313699595371' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16821179/posts/default/2243793313699595371'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16821179/posts/default/2243793313699595371'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://twenty28eight.blogspot.com/2007/11/clumsygokart.html' title='ClumsyGoKart'/><author><name>twenty28eight</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17757364471096294480</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3026/1607/1600/IMG_39841.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_SbTM1KolYXQ/RzcRzbp6-yI/AAAAAAAAAFk/hxSVt5uklaY/s72-c/DSC00051.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16821179.post-4070646945442823745</id><published>2007-11-07T02:57:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-11-07T20:08:09.172+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Annehigaseyyo..</title><content type='html'>I just woke up and was feeling slightly dazed. The clock showed 0300 and my laptop was still switched on. Was about to switch it off when I saw something online that made me stop what I was doing. And reconsider an issue that has been bugging me for a couple of days.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;From experience, what I should do is to dispose this issue immediately and stop burdening myself with it. And from experience, I know that I would have a hard time to let go. Because I have learnt to care for it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Letting go is never easy for me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I guess it's the best thing to do because I've done ways to ensure that it will always be in my life and yet, it's futile.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Annehigaseyyo, JC!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Bogo ship da.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Fighting, WT!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16821179-4070646945442823745?l=twenty28eight.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://twenty28eight.blogspot.com/feeds/4070646945442823745/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16821179&amp;postID=4070646945442823745' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16821179/posts/default/4070646945442823745'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16821179/posts/default/4070646945442823745'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://twenty28eight.blogspot.com/2007/11/blog-post.html' title='Annehigaseyyo..'/><author><name>twenty28eight</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17757364471096294480</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3026/1607/1600/IMG_39841.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16821179.post-7926082671797238612</id><published>2007-11-06T23:01:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2007-11-06T23:13:58.895+08:00</updated><title type='text'>LessonLearnt..</title><content type='html'>Two Saturdays ago, I nearly got into an accident.  Came home pretty late (or should I say, early?).  Have been busy the day before; DeepaRaya celebration, open house for Hari Raya, watched 'Brotherhood' and hang out at the airport.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was driving towards my carpark when I fell asleep.  Maybe it was a second or two, but when I opened my eyes, I was steering towards my right on the opposite lane!  If I hadn't woken up, I think I would hit or go over the curb!  Luckily there was no oncoming car or I would crash into it.  Shook me a little.  This had never happened to me before!  I would be very exhausted or very sleepy but never did I fall asleep while driving!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But you know what I learnt from this?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Some things do not last.  Maybe it's a phase we go through but once we get over it, you just totally forgot how we cherish certain things.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yes.. I'm talking in circles.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Just let it be a lesson to me then.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16821179-7926082671797238612?l=twenty28eight.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://twenty28eight.blogspot.com/feeds/7926082671797238612/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16821179&amp;postID=7926082671797238612' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16821179/posts/default/7926082671797238612'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16821179/posts/default/7926082671797238612'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://twenty28eight.blogspot.com/2007/11/lessonlearnt.html' title='LessonLearnt..'/><author><name>twenty28eight</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17757364471096294480</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3026/1607/1600/IMG_39841.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16821179.post-3784033334807824752</id><published>2007-11-02T10:49:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-11-02T15:13:10.905+08:00</updated><title type='text'>lifesucks..</title><content type='html'>My life's full of ups and downs nowadays.  Well.. mostly downs.  Been getting into squabbles with people who are close to me.  On retrospect, I don't think I'm at fault.  But then again, I may overlooked certain things and be insensitive.  Pretty insensitive.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;DownNo.1&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I seriously don't understand why my close one claimed that I am a VIP.  Add to the insult, she actually pointed out why I should be agitated.  Shouldn't I enjoy being one?  Everyone giving in to me.. And make decisions based on what I want.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sometimes, we have to look at a bigger picture.  I felt so unjustifed (and still is) for a close friend to think that way of me.  I may not be perfect.  But for her, I'm willing to compromise so that she can enjoy going out with us.  With her family and curfews, all of us have to adapt so that she can still spend whatever time she has with us.  But with last minute cancelling a three-week-beforehand outing (we plan ahead in case she has other commitments) and insisting of opting out a picnic (which I so look forward because of my hectic schedule) because of a beauty schedule, I just snapped.  The latter was not in the list of our outings but why must we always accomodate?  I mean.. if you can spend time with us (which you claim that is what we haven't been doing), why not?  Beauty schedule is more important than friends?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am just going to keep quiet about this.  Because when I am angry, I become a nasty person.  And it's ugly.  Life sucks..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;DownNo.2&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Maybe.. there is something wrong with me.  Within that week, I had another squabble with another friend.  All because of a chalet.  I know you will be reading this.  So.. here goes.  The three of us do want to spend time with you at your chalet.  One of us ends work at 1800.  So of course, she will come only after that.  I and the other are going for the play.  Which both of us had decided and bought the tickets way before you told us about your chalet.  But you kept insisting that the chalet's a waste because everbody's coming in very late when you can check in as early as 1400.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I learn that as we grow older, certain things cannot be planned.  And in this case, our schedules.  To go to your chalet is something that we would like to do.  But since there are certain factors make the whole thing imperfect, why don't we just make the best of the situation?  Well.. at least you are still talking to me.  That is the saving grace.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But lesson learnt?  Life sucks..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;DownNo.3&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My blog has been a place where I wrote for the past two years.  And it is comical that a close friend actually just started reading it last Saturday.  And called me up and reprimand me about a certain entry that I wrote.  And.. you know what is preposterous about the whole thing?  The entry was last years!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Gosh.. I can literally pull my hair out!  We are still talking but not after some acidic remarks to each other.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Haiz.. again.. life sucks.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;DownNo.4&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is so far the worst.  Because it is affecting my mood.  But I guess, you don't understand.  How can you if you have your own life to live?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Haiz..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I just need to reorganise my thoughts.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Life sucks.. Super sucks..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;I miss everyone.. :(&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16821179-3784033334807824752?l=twenty28eight.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://twenty28eight.blogspot.com/feeds/3784033334807824752/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16821179&amp;postID=3784033334807824752' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16821179/posts/default/3784033334807824752'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16821179/posts/default/3784033334807824752'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://twenty28eight.blogspot.com/2007/11/lifesucks.html' title='lifesucks..'/><author><name>twenty28eight</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17757364471096294480</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3026/1607/1600/IMG_39841.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16821179.post-4753568641388731524</id><published>2007-10-27T22:15:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-10-27T22:27:00.192+08:00</updated><title type='text'>PresentSmileCryFuture</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_SbTM1KolYXQ/RyNI1jKuWOI/AAAAAAAAAFc/a11wdLkyfVw/s1600-h/PA270058.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5126020885688244450" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_SbTM1KolYXQ/RyNI1jKuWOI/AAAAAAAAAFc/a11wdLkyfVw/s200/PA270058.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Holding on to something from the present will either make you smile or cry in the future.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16821179-4753568641388731524?l=twenty28eight.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://twenty28eight.blogspot.com/feeds/4753568641388731524/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16821179&amp;postID=4753568641388731524' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16821179/posts/default/4753568641388731524'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16821179/posts/default/4753568641388731524'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://twenty28eight.blogspot.com/2007/10/presentsmilecryfuture.html' title='PresentSmileCryFuture'/><author><name>twenty28eight</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17757364471096294480</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3026/1607/1600/IMG_39841.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_SbTM1KolYXQ/RyNI1jKuWOI/AAAAAAAAAFc/a11wdLkyfVw/s72-c/PA270058.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16821179.post-5927126800538454742</id><published>2007-10-25T20:04:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-10-25T20:08:22.771+08:00</updated><title type='text'>S.H.T.T.Y Still..</title><content type='html'>After a bowl of fish slice mee suah soup, Anderson ice-cream, Four Seasons durian puff (all compliments of Nad) and doughnuts (compliments of LaneigeQueen), I still feel shitty.  It's been eons since I feel this way.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Even those funny emoticons don't work.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I hate feeling sorry for myself.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16821179-5927126800538454742?l=twenty28eight.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://twenty28eight.blogspot.com/feeds/5927126800538454742/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16821179&amp;postID=5927126800538454742' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16821179/posts/default/5927126800538454742'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16821179/posts/default/5927126800538454742'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://twenty28eight.blogspot.com/2007/10/shtty-still.html' title='S.H.T.T.Y Still..'/><author><name>twenty28eight</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17757364471096294480</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3026/1607/1600/IMG_39841.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16821179.post-9071981737540674492</id><published>2007-10-25T13:20:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-10-25T13:42:33.444+08:00</updated><title type='text'>S.H.I.T.T.Y</title><content type='html'>I am feeling shitty today.  I can't believe I let myself feel this way again.  Silly me.  Age doesn't seem to make me wiser.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can feel the heaviness of the air, the burden in my heart and worse, the smile I have to muster when I am around people.  Some people noticed my sombre mood and asked whether I was alright.  Didn't know that I was that bad in hiding my mood.  Super lame.  Smile.. Smile.. Smile..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On a cheerful note, I had a great time with four of my Titans yesterday.  Thanks for the company, guys.  Looking forward to see you all again next Thursday.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I just came back from chatting with my Fifth Year Goonies.  Amazing how much they change.  Today, they are going to have their Geography papers in the afternoon.  All of them were studying and sharing notes.  They are more serious this year than last year.  And I felt good that there is a change in them.  Hopefully, my Dedication4 will be like them next year.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16821179-9071981737540674492?l=twenty28eight.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://twenty28eight.blogspot.com/feeds/9071981737540674492/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16821179&amp;postID=9071981737540674492' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16821179/posts/default/9071981737540674492'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16821179/posts/default/9071981737540674492'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://twenty28eight.blogspot.com/2007/10/shitty.html' title='S.H.I.T.T.Y'/><author><name>twenty28eight</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17757364471096294480</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3026/1607/1600/IMG_39841.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16821179.post-7426316829188098949</id><published>2007-10-14T21:02:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-10-14T21:47:23.168+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Missing...</title><content type='html'>My time's nearly up.  About three months left.  But I try not to think of it; always pushing it to the back of my mind.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Don't like the idea of missing my Goonies and my fellow Potters.  Told one of my Goonies that everytime I miss him, I will put a chocolate aside so that when I visit the Institution, I will pass him all the chocolates.  But currently, YOU ARE ON DIET, right?  Maybe I should put aside one mango everytime I miss you.  Haahaa.. healthier.  And it's your favourite too.  :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm going to miss my Form Goonies too.  I won't see them in their fifth year.  Everytime I think of this decision, I always thought that I should wait for my past Form Goonies to graduate first.  But it has already been about three years.  This year, it took me some time to make this decision.  And I thought I might as well take the step.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm gonna miss P.H.Y.S.I.C.S  terribly.  She has been my Unni, my neighbour, my confidante, my advisor and most importantly, my friend.  We've grown closer over the years.  We can even read each other's mind now.   I don't know how to live without her next year.  I think she's feeling it too.  I actually force her to pledge our sisterhood by buying two pairs of slippers, one pink and the other blue, and exchange one colour.  So juvenile, right?  But the different coloured slippers will remind me of her.  And I hope I won't miss her that badly.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Next on the list.. LaneigeQueen.  I'm gonna miss her coming to my cubicle to seek solace.  Or to give me food.  Or to give me little trinkets.  And I'm quite worried about her.  With me gone, she has only P.H.Y.S.I.C.S and if P.H.Y.S.I.C.S is busy, she might feel lonely.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Decisions.. there's always a repercussion.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm slightly depressed now.  Gonna seek solace.  Gonna continue my fifth day msn marathon.  Won't feel the loss too badly then.  I hope..&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16821179-7426316829188098949?l=twenty28eight.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://twenty28eight.blogspot.com/feeds/7426316829188098949/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16821179&amp;postID=7426316829188098949' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16821179/posts/default/7426316829188098949'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16821179/posts/default/7426316829188098949'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://twenty28eight.blogspot.com/2007/10/missing.html' title='Missing...'/><author><name>twenty28eight</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17757364471096294480</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3026/1607/1600/IMG_39841.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16821179.post-7866453158550989528</id><published>2007-10-14T03:27:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-10-14T03:30:25.155+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Short and Sweet</title><content type='html'>Going to sleep after this.  Fourth day of marathon.  And I lost a game to you.  Heesh..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Message me again if you want to continue our fifth day of marathon.  Haahaa..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Fighting!!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16821179-7866453158550989528?l=twenty28eight.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://twenty28eight.blogspot.com/feeds/7866453158550989528/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16821179&amp;postID=7866453158550989528' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16821179/posts/default/7866453158550989528'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16821179/posts/default/7866453158550989528'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://twenty28eight.blogspot.com/2007/10/short-and-sweet.html' title='Short and Sweet'/><author><name>twenty28eight</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17757364471096294480</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3026/1607/1600/IMG_39841.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16821179.post-3573817461220135695</id><published>2007-10-13T03:50:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-10-13T04:55:13.640+08:00</updated><title type='text'>My Marathon</title><content type='html'>I'm currently on a 3-day msn marathon.  Now's nearly 5 am and I have not slept yet.  Yesterday, I slept at 3 plus in the morning.  And the day before, about 2 plus.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm not just chatting.  I'm muti-tasking.  I was on Facebook, Friendster and playing online game.  Lame.. I know.  But I have not felt relaxed for a very long time.  And I feel great being relaxed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today, I learn two things:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;ol&gt;&lt;li&gt;how to play Sudoku (is that how you spell it?)&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;and when I am angry, I enter the Goonie's room without any eye contact with anyone.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ol&gt;&lt;p&gt;Thank you for teaching me how to play Sudoku.  Never play it before in my whole life.  And I'm getting good at it because I won in my fourth try.  Not bad, huh?&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Seriously enjoy the msn marathon.  Even though I didn't enjoy the 'hangover' period; kept tripping on things, couldn't comprehend what people were telling me, my fingers getting cramps and my whole body hurt.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Just ended my marathon.  I don't know if there'll be one tomorrow.  If you are reading this, please message me and tell me as I should be out the whole day for Hari Raya visiting.  Haahaa..  And I bet you only wake up at 5 plus in the afternoon.  Lucky you.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;By the way... Facebook is great.  I found my JC friends, even this guy who was in my class for only the first three months.  Still new in it.  To me, Facebook is not just about throwing sheep and drawing on the Superwall.  It helps me find my long-lost friends, and even keep intouch with my good friend in US (I actually saw her baby sis' picture and seriously, she has grown so big.  I mean the last time I saw her sis was when she was in primary school.  I think she's 20 somthing now!  Heesh..).&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Alright, will post more when I'm less sedated.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;In the mean time.. FIGHTING!!!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;And BOGO SHIP DA!!!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16821179-3573817461220135695?l=twenty28eight.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://twenty28eight.blogspot.com/feeds/3573817461220135695/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16821179&amp;postID=3573817461220135695' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16821179/posts/default/3573817461220135695'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16821179/posts/default/3573817461220135695'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://twenty28eight.blogspot.com/2007/10/my-marathon.html' title='My Marathon'/><author><name>twenty28eight</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17757364471096294480</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3026/1607/1600/IMG_39841.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16821179.post-6318912342297246969</id><published>2007-10-11T19:14:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-10-11T19:26:42.351+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Past, Present, Presence..</title><content type='html'>There are certain parts of your past that you would want to bury because thinking about it hurts so much that nothing can cease the pain.  But over the years, I realise the pain has lulled and even the mere mention of it doesn't cause me to recoil.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After so many years of avoiding each other, we bumped into each other twice this year.  Back then, when we lived so far apart, we made an effort to meet each other.  But now, when we are living so close, we choose to ignore each other's presence.  The irony of life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Recently, my past tries to catch up with my life again.  I'm cool about it but I don't know if that is a wise decision.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sometimes, I believe, we just have to take the risk.  I think I can manage my feelings well now to accept my past's presence.  The problem is, can my past's present accept my presence?  Only time will tell.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16821179-6318912342297246969?l=twenty28eight.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://twenty28eight.blogspot.com/feeds/6318912342297246969/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16821179&amp;postID=6318912342297246969' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16821179/posts/default/6318912342297246969'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16821179/posts/default/6318912342297246969'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://twenty28eight.blogspot.com/2007/10/past-present-presence.html' title='Past, Present, Presence..'/><author><name>twenty28eight</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17757364471096294480</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3026/1607/1600/IMG_39841.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16821179.post-728472465184593694</id><published>2007-10-11T18:48:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-10-13T04:55:47.004+08:00</updated><title type='text'>The Ya-Ya Sisterhood (compliments from Fah)</title><content type='html'>The last time I heard from Zah, she and Dah were having this SMS war.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm sure I'm gonna be slapped on the face for writing about their dispute but this is too hilarious not to be written. Furthermore, we've been friends since secondary one and we are super CLOSE. Plus I'm too cute to be ignored and they LOVE me despite my numerous handicaps. And most importantly, Hari Raya's in two days time. So both of you have to forgive me, okay?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My two girlfriends are fighting over money. Not that they owe each other money but it was over some work that one ought to receive payment. So as usual, I'm always the innocent party who would receive forwarded sms and be the impartial judge.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, to cut the story short, the three of us would not be close friends if not for the fact that we have known one another for the longest time. This includes Fah and Nad.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The five of us are pretty anal for different reasons; Dah with money, Zah with tardiness, Nad with cleanliness, Fah with coolness and me with orderliness.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, just wanna say Selamat Hari Raya Aidifitri, my dearest friends. Forgive me for any mistakes I've made. I know I've been MIA this fasting month, but trust me, I'm super busy with work. Nad, if you are reading this, I know you complained to PurringFeline about my absence but don't worry. Will make it up to you. Should be more free during the holidays.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Fah, sorry that I didn't know about you were sick and having exam at the same time. Didn't even realise that I didn't contact you for the longest time. I know that you know that when I'm busy, I just forget the world. Will make it up to you too.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dah, seriously, must celebrate your birthday together again this year. I'm making myself free on that day. Wohoo..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And my dearest Nyot, Selamat Hari Raya, maaf zahir dan batin, kawan. Ni, ha, aku berbual Melayu dengan engkau. Kenalah kita berlatih berbual dalam bahasa Melayu, ya? Lagipun, engkau dahulu ambil Malay A dan aku ni ambil Bahasa Melayu sebagai Bahasa pertama. Haahaa..&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16821179-728472465184593694?l=twenty28eight.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://twenty28eight.blogspot.com/feeds/728472465184593694/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16821179&amp;postID=728472465184593694' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16821179/posts/default/728472465184593694'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16821179/posts/default/728472465184593694'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://twenty28eight.blogspot.com/2007/10/zah-dah-fah-and-nad.html' title='The Ya-Ya Sisterhood (compliments from Fah)'/><author><name>twenty28eight</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17757364471096294480</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3026/1607/1600/IMG_39841.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16821179.post-6876075871508186056</id><published>2007-09-30T07:57:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-09-30T08:30:14.141+08:00</updated><title type='text'>The Eighties</title><content type='html'>I have three things left to complete. Not in order of importance: &lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;ol&gt;&lt;li&gt;EYE&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;SEM&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;HRC (to vet)&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ol&gt;&lt;p&gt;Notice all the acronyms. Those of you who are Potters like me will understand what these three mean.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Anyway, it's a nice Sunday morning. Just been chided by mummy dearest for not wanting to go to the market (Geesh.. market? On Sunday morning?!?!) with her and my dad. Usually, the two of them go together sans me but recently, my dad develops a back problem; he can't sleep (because the back hurts) and has problem walking. So as the daughter, I am supposed to accompany them so that I can help to carry the groceries. After my gentle refusal (imagine me saying.. Don't want la.. I help you carry the groceries from the door), my mum engaged in her soliloquy about filial piety or something about what kind of daughter I am. By then, I already closed my bedroom door. Bad daughter..&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;I was surfing the net when I&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_SbTM1KolYXQ/Rv7oquixayI/AAAAAAAAAFM/eMgkf1YBKSo/s1600-h/The_Breakfast_Club.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5115782047485487906" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_SbTM1KolYXQ/Rv7oquixayI/AAAAAAAAAFM/eMgkf1YBKSo/s200/The_Breakfast_Club.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; came across three of my favourite 80s films.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_SbTM1KolYXQ/Rv7ogeixaxI/AAAAAAAAAFE/CbbUy1tESVY/s1600-h/Some_kind_of_wonderful_poster.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5115781871391828754" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_SbTM1KolYXQ/Rv7ogeixaxI/AAAAAAAAAFE/CbbUy1tESVY/s200/Some_kind_of_wonderful_poster.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_SbTM1KolYXQ/Rv7o6uixazI/AAAAAAAAAFU/QLBgCOKm3JU/s1600-h/Pretty_In_Pink.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5115782322363394866" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_SbTM1KolYXQ/Rv7o6uixazI/AAAAAAAAAFU/QLBgCOKm3JU/s200/Pretty_In_Pink.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;I've watched all three and it is amazing how vividly I can remember certain parts of the films.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;In &lt;em&gt;The Breakfast Club&lt;/em&gt;, I remembered the dance steps. Then, it was quite cool; the whole movie was about teen angst and students in detention (didn't know that detention can be that fun). Judd Nelson's aquiline nose, piercing blue eyes and stylo-milo hair were the highlights of the movie to me. Plus, there was Molly Ringwald. She with her red hair and bee stung lips; I always like to watch her act.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Molly Ringwald also acted in &lt;em&gt;Pretty in Pink&lt;/em&gt;, a movie that made me so excited about prom. There was Andrew McCarthy too, one super handsome guy acting as the hero.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;Some Kind of Wonderful&lt;/em&gt; is the another 80s show which is a must watch. I love Eric Stolz! He has this distinctive voice and he is always very lost; you know, 'to be or not to be' that kind of thing. Not that he wanted to attempt suicide (to side track, this line from Hamlet is about Hamlet contemplating to commit suicide). Mary Stuart Masterson's hair was so 'in' then. Too bad I couldn't achieve that look. Haahaa..&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;One 80s film which I have not watched is &lt;em&gt;St Elmo's Fire&lt;/em&gt;. The theme song is great (of course, it's by David Foster) and one of the soundtracks, &lt;em&gt;Man in Motion&lt;/em&gt; by John Parr is usually played in Class95. Featuring the 80s Bratpack, it was quite famous then. Trying to find it online but it's quite difficult.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Anyone has it?&lt;/p&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_SbTM1KolYXQ/Rv7ogeixaxI/AAAAAAAAAFE/CbbUy1tESVY/s1600-h/Some_kind_of_wonderful_poster.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&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/16821179-6876075871508186056?l=twenty28eight.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://twenty28eight.blogspot.com/feeds/6876075871508186056/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16821179&amp;postID=6876075871508186056' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16821179/posts/default/6876075871508186056'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16821179/posts/default/6876075871508186056'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://twenty28eight.blogspot.com/2007/09/i-have-three-things-left-to-complete.html' title='The Eighties'/><author><name>twenty28eight</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17757364471096294480</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3026/1607/1600/IMG_39841.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_SbTM1KolYXQ/Rv7oquixayI/AAAAAAAAAFM/eMgkf1YBKSo/s72-c/The_Breakfast_Club.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16821179.post-8216135946785156874</id><published>2007-09-29T21:40:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-09-29T22:03:39.024+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Reflection</title><content type='html'>Currently, there is a joke going around about someone being gay.  Intially, it was hilarious, all of us speculating whether it's the truth (we still have not confirmed it) but after some time (yeah.. it takes me THAT long), my conscience starts to gnaw on me and tells me that it's a MEAN joke.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why this sudden change?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The person intended is A VERY NICE person who, if I were to ask for help, would willingly sets aside his/her time to assist me.  He/She is also a caring person and never once did I hear him/her bitch about someone.  And when he/she talks to you, he/she talks to you humbly, unlike some people who even when at fault, will look you in the eye and think nothing of his/her mistakes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now, my question is.. why is he/she butt of the joke?  Is it because of his/her sexual orientation?  If that's the case, wouldn't people who are involved in pre-marital sex should be condemned too?  But no.. I don't see these people being made fun of.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What about people who steals other people boyfriends/girlfriends/spouses?  Are they much better?  But no.. I don't see these people being made fun of.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My point is, everybody has flaws.  But to laugh at other people's flaws is a MEAN thing to do.  What gives you the right to laugh at people?  Does it make you feel superior?  Or does it make you feel like you are in a group?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am a LOUSY human being.  Why do I say so?  Because there are few things which happen right in front of my eyes which I don't dare to speak up.  What I did was try not to participate in such conversations.  As a close friend advised me, it takes time for people to realise that they are wrong.  We can't just impose our thoughts on them.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16821179-8216135946785156874?l=twenty28eight.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://twenty28eight.blogspot.com/feeds/8216135946785156874/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16821179&amp;postID=8216135946785156874' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16821179/posts/default/8216135946785156874'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16821179/posts/default/8216135946785156874'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://twenty28eight.blogspot.com/2007/09/reflection.html' title='Reflection'/><author><name>twenty28eight</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17757364471096294480</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3026/1607/1600/IMG_39841.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16821179.post-6702295233085924997</id><published>2007-09-21T12:05:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-09-21T12:09:38.053+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Decision</title><content type='html'>I found out something which alarmed and frightened me at the same time.  I never like to make a decision when I am in a spot; the decision I make will never be a WIN-WIN situation.  Simply because I am stuck in a corner and force, then and there, to decide.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But then, not everyone is similar to me in thoughts and feelings.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I guess, the pursuit of happiness, has a different meaning for everybody.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16821179-6702295233085924997?l=twenty28eight.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://twenty28eight.blogspot.com/feeds/6702295233085924997/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16821179&amp;postID=6702295233085924997' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16821179/posts/default/6702295233085924997'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16821179/posts/default/6702295233085924997'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://twenty28eight.blogspot.com/2007/09/decision.html' title='Decision'/><author><name>twenty28eight</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17757364471096294480</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3026/1607/1600/IMG_39841.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16821179.post-5986624117581807452</id><published>2007-09-09T19:44:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-09-09T19:54:11.600+08:00</updated><title type='text'>My Dar-Dar and I</title><content type='html'>Due to our excessive obsession with Korean dramas, we are now solemnly called Mrs Pak Woon Hye and Mrs Kim Rae Kyul respectively.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anne assesyo!&lt;br /&gt;;-)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16821179-5986624117581807452?l=twenty28eight.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://twenty28eight.blogspot.com/feeds/5986624117581807452/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16821179&amp;postID=5986624117581807452' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16821179/posts/default/5986624117581807452'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16821179/posts/default/5986624117581807452'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://twenty28eight.blogspot.com/2007/09/my-dar-dar-and-i.html' title='My Dar-Dar and I'/><author><name>twenty28eight</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17757364471096294480</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3026/1607/1600/IMG_39841.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16821179.post-4962563658576498294</id><published>2007-09-07T11:01:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-09-07T11:07:58.740+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Dreams..</title><content type='html'>I had a horrifying dream last night.  Or should I say dreams.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Images of my kids and the assessments kept infiltrating my slumber.&lt;br /&gt;I bet my R.E.M is at its peak.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Can't even rest properly.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Maybe I miss my kids.&lt;br /&gt;Can't bear the thought of not seeing them next year.&lt;br /&gt;Wonder how we'll survive?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16821179-4962563658576498294?l=twenty28eight.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://twenty28eight.blogspot.com/feeds/4962563658576498294/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16821179&amp;postID=4962563658576498294' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16821179/posts/default/4962563658576498294'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16821179/posts/default/4962563658576498294'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://twenty28eight.blogspot.com/2007/09/dreams.html' title='Dreams..'/><author><name>twenty28eight</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17757364471096294480</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3026/1607/1600/IMG_39841.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16821179.post-5007084694287765159</id><published>2007-09-06T16:59:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-09-06T17:10:27.483+08:00</updated><title type='text'>The Fourth September Blog of Lady28</title><content type='html'>After that, all the Potters had a celebration dinner at the Grassroot Club.  The theme was RETRO and I dressed up like a Gypsy.  Too bad can't upload the pics or else P.H.Y.S.I.C.S and GB would scream murder!  Haahaa..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This year's celebration was fun and enjoyable.  Thank, God!  Won't want to leave with sad memories.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After that, I was super shag.  Went home and slept until late the next day.  I realised that my sleeping endurance is getting weaker.  Must be the age.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The torture started on 3 September 2007, Monday, and it lasted until yesterday.  Woke up at 0500 those three days and zoomed all the way to Tiong Bahru to collect papers by 0630.  Madness..  And the rest of the Potters were having their delicious slumber while I, the Red Indian Chief (yeah.. me again!), suffered frantic attacks and heart palpitations.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Went back to the institution on Monday after that and stayed until nearly 0100 to finish up admin work for that event.  I was so used to be the Red Indian Chief at the end of the year, not the September event.  There was no time to do the admin work because the institutution was still going on and I was busy with that as well as the Potters' Celebration too.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Quarelled with one of the Potters from that school  Won't elaborate except that things are fine now.  Shudder..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My papers was yesterday and was so worried for my kids.  The papers looked fine.  Really hope they would pass well. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Alright.. Time for my last episode of THE FIRST SHOP OF COFFEE PRINCE.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Finally..&lt;br /&gt;My turn to relax.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Fighting!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16821179-5007084694287765159?l=twenty28eight.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://twenty28eight.blogspot.com/feeds/5007084694287765159/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16821179&amp;postID=5007084694287765159' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16821179/posts/default/5007084694287765159'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16821179/posts/default/5007084694287765159'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://twenty28eight.blogspot.com/2007/09/fourth-september-blog-of-lady28.html' title='The Fourth September Blog of Lady28'/><author><name>twenty28eight</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17757364471096294480</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3026/1607/1600/IMG_39841.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16821179.post-8284360299314139958</id><published>2007-09-06T16:31:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-09-06T16:57:48.341+08:00</updated><title type='text'>The Third September Blog of Lady28</title><content type='html'>31 September 2007&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Don't really looked forward to that day.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;My kids told me that they might not be attending the institution.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;My last year with them and I didn't get to spend time with them.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;:(&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But when I went to the institutution, most of them were there! Happy, man! But of course, life with Dedication4 will never be smooth. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;The course of true love never did run smooth&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Learnt this from a storybook which I read in secondary book. 'Love Story', I think.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Anyway, minus that.. I had a great day. Especially when my Dear-Dear came with Emo Guy to give me this..&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_SbTM1KolYXQ/Rt-8zAjl8cI/AAAAAAAAAEk/4LShQ3E5flM/s1600-h/DSC00313.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5107008086970069442" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_SbTM1KolYXQ/Rt-8zAjl8cI/AAAAAAAAAEk/4LShQ3E5flM/s200/DSC00313.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Super cool, right? A jade bangle!!!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I was exhilarated when they gave it to me!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Trust my Dear-Dear to think of this.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Haahaa..&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I would like to thank the following people for sharing this. According to index no:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;4. Mr Chan&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;5. My Dear-Dear (Thanks fro the white roses. You sure know me real well!)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;6. Mr He&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;7. Mr Foo&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;8. Mr Ho&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;9. Mr Lee&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;10. Mr Leong&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;11. Wen-Wen&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;12. Emo Guy (Thanks for the pink roses.)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;13. Mr Rajeswaran&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;14. Mr Tay&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;15. Mr Toh&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;16. Mr Yeo&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Gamsahamida!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;And also to my three gals.. Thank you for the gifts.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_SbTM1KolYXQ/Rt--sAjl8dI/AAAAAAAAAEs/bZXuxVc5R0s/s1600-h/DSC00315.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5107010165734240722" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_SbTM1KolYXQ/Rt--sAjl8dI/AAAAAAAAAEs/bZXuxVc5R0s/s200/DSC00315.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;This was made by Ms Chia.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Real neat, huh?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Gamsahamida!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_SbTM1KolYXQ/Rt-_qwjl8eI/AAAAAAAAAE0/VEIOuMTulkQ/s1600-h/DSC00316.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5107011243771032034" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_SbTM1KolYXQ/Rt-_qwjl8eI/AAAAAAAAAE0/VEIOuMTulkQ/s200/DSC00316.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This was given by Mr Chan.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Didn't expect to get this.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Super cute!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Gonna use it next year!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Gamsahamida!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;And a collection of my gifts.. for the last year..&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_SbTM1KolYXQ/Rt_AIAjl8fI/AAAAAAAAAE8/ZpXXdW-3I_I/s1600-h/DSC00320.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5107011746282205682" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_SbTM1KolYXQ/Rt_AIAjl8fI/AAAAAAAAAE8/ZpXXdW-3I_I/s200/DSC00320.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Thank you, everyone!&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/16821179-8284360299314139958?l=twenty28eight.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://twenty28eight.blogspot.com/feeds/8284360299314139958/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16821179&amp;postID=8284360299314139958' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16821179/posts/default/8284360299314139958'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16821179/posts/default/8284360299314139958'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://twenty28eight.blogspot.com/2007/09/third-september-blog-of-lady28.html' title='The Third September Blog of Lady28'/><author><name>twenty28eight</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17757364471096294480</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3026/1607/1600/IMG_39841.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_SbTM1KolYXQ/Rt-8zAjl8cI/AAAAAAAAAEk/4LShQ3E5flM/s72-c/DSC00313.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16821179.post-7895890865282288116</id><published>2007-09-06T15:29:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-09-06T16:31:00.251+08:00</updated><title type='text'>The Second September Blog of Lady28</title><content type='html'>Meanwhile, at Plaza Singapura, Nad was busy being trying to take a photo of Aaron Kwok for me. &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;"He's too far off! Can't really see him. But, damn! He looks good, man!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Coming that from Nad is a rarity. Making me want to break down and cry. When could I leave this place? Checked my watch and it was already 8 plus. He had been there for more than an hour! He was going to leave soon. I haven't felt this sense of desperation since my Dedication4 played punk in school. Aaaaaaaaahhhhh....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Finally, when everything was over, I hurried to the shuttle bus which would bring all the Potters to the main gate of the Istana. As the bus crawled in the darkness, I prayed that Aaron Kwok would still be there. The whole place was in darkness except for the light illuminating in the bus. Finally, the main gate. But the bus remained stationary. What the hell? I could hear the sound of outside traffic. It felt like you were stuck in a Twilight Zone.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Haiz.. must be some security check or whatsoever.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When the door finally opened, I scurried down (not easywith the busload of Potters, alright?). I was wearing a super high heeled shoes but I ran all the way to Plaza Singapura! I was not going to miss this for a life time!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Aaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhh.....&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;He was still there.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;And, damn!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;He is Super Sat!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Handsome to the max!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_SbTM1KolYXQ/Rt-1xQjl8VI/AAAAAAAAADs/Xjg5dRsf0WI/s1600-h/DSC00325.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5107000360323903826" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_SbTM1KolYXQ/Rt-1xQjl8VI/AAAAAAAAADs/Xjg5dRsf0WI/s200/DSC00325.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;My super high heelies!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_SbTM1KolYXQ/Rt-2Agjl8WI/AAAAAAAAAD0/Szuis1djO04/s1600-h/DSC00306.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5107000622316908898" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_SbTM1KolYXQ/Rt-2Agjl8WI/AAAAAAAAAD0/Szuis1djO04/s200/DSC00306.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_SbTM1KolYXQ/Rt-2KQjl8XI/AAAAAAAAAD8/P8U0cnMI7pY/s1600-h/DSC00305.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5107000789820633458" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_SbTM1KolYXQ/Rt-2KQjl8XI/AAAAAAAAAD8/P8U0cnMI7pY/s200/DSC00305.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Can you see Aaron Kwok? He's the one in stripes. Haiz.. My camera phone couldn't zoom!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_SbTM1KolYXQ/Rt-2zQjl8YI/AAAAAAAAAEE/W7Wx3TiGBbQ/s1600-h/DSC00307.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5107001494195270018" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_SbTM1KolYXQ/Rt-2zQjl8YI/AAAAAAAAAEE/W7Wx3TiGBbQ/s200/DSC00307.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Haahaa.. He actually walked past me!!! Tried to get a shot of him but with such over-aged enthusisatic crowd (inclusing me and Nad) plus his bodyguards, this was what I got.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;And oh, yeah. This is what I wore for the Potter's Convention. Nad said it I looked like a Kakak (duh!) but Fah and Zah said I looked fine.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_SbTM1KolYXQ/Rt-5_Ajl8bI/AAAAAAAAAEc/p4IxXMTVPOs/s1600-h/DSC00308.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5107004994593616306" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_SbTM1KolYXQ/Rt-5_Ajl8bI/AAAAAAAAAEc/p4IxXMTVPOs/s200/DSC00308.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;My friends were good to me. Spent time with me to celebrate Potters' Day. Thanks, guys. And I got this from Fah!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_SbTM1KolYXQ/Rt-4dgjl8aI/AAAAAAAAAEU/Xx1k1euRlLc/s1600-h/DSC00326.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5107003319556370850" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_SbTM1KolYXQ/Rt-4dgjl8aI/AAAAAAAAAEU/Xx1k1euRlLc/s200/DSC00326.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;My Momo!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&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/16821179-7895890865282288116?l=twenty28eight.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://twenty28eight.blogspot.com/feeds/7895890865282288116/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16821179&amp;postID=7895890865282288116' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16821179/posts/default/7895890865282288116'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16821179/posts/default/7895890865282288116'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://twenty28eight.blogspot.com/2007/09/second-september-blog-of-lady28.html' title='The Second September Blog of Lady28'/><author><name>twenty28eight</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17757364471096294480</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3026/1607/1600/IMG_39841.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_SbTM1KolYXQ/Rt-1xQjl8VI/AAAAAAAAADs/Xjg5dRsf0WI/s72-c/DSC00325.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16821179.post-7827309981711095308</id><published>2007-09-06T14:56:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-09-06T15:29:17.262+08:00</updated><title type='text'>The First September Blog of Lady28</title><content type='html'>My life has been a buzz of activities that I didn't even have time to breathe. For the first time since the September holidays, I woke up late. 12 plus to be exact. But not before I was woken up by my nephew's and niece's incessant knocks on my door at 7 plus. To say goodbye to me before the former went to his playschool (they are sweet when they don't make a ruckus). Then I woke up at 9 plus (out of habit; it's weird that I can sleep late). And finally at 12 plus where I quickly switched on my laptop to check if the final episode of THE FIRST SHOP OF COFFEE PRINCE was alread uploaded. And it was there. Today's a good day.. &lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Saw my Dar-Dar online and I knew that she was hooked on to the same show too. Haahaa.. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;What I did next was what I haven't done for so long; taking my own SWEET time to bathe and doing my personal bathing rituals merticulously. Scrubbed myself.. Slathered lotion all over my body.. Hmm.. I smelt so good!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;That was all besides the point.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I am going to start my life from last Thursday, 30 August 2007.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I was selected to go to Istana for some Potters' Convention. Parked at Plaza Singapura and guess what I saw.. Aaron Kwok's poster saying that he was coming at 1900 for an autograph session! Gosh.. Aaron Kwok exists since I was in secondary school; must thank my Ciecie for that. She was the one who lent me his cassette (yup.. cassette!) and I actually listened to his songs. Haahaa.. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Called Zah and Nad up; in case my convention ended late, could they take a photo of him. Zah as usual was cynical, saying something about him being old and all botoxed up. Nad just played along with me. Yeah.. Yeah.. I'll do it for you. Thanks, Nad.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;So there I was at the Istana, standing ALONE with nobody to talk to, when around me were hundreds of other Potters. Everywhere I walked, I heard them talking about Potterism. Haiz.. we still could not get out of our Potter skin even when we were out of the institution. Met two or three familiar faces; said hi and bye. And I'm supremely bored. You know the term BORED TO DEATH? Yeah.. that one. I could actually die of boredom. Called people to occupy my time before the great event but everybody's busy. It just dawned to me that I couldn't marry a royalty; I would die attending this kind of functions! So sorry, my dearest LaneigeQueen. I think you have to say goodbye to that condominium which I promised you. I don't think I'm suitable to be a Brunei princess. Haahaa..&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Since everyone was busy, I took a few shots of the Istana. Mind you. The shots are as bored as my mind..&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_SbTM1KolYXQ/Rt-qGAjl8RI/AAAAAAAAADM/FmIXgtOkORg/s1600-h/DSC00300.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5106987522666656018" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_SbTM1KolYXQ/Rt-qGAjl8RI/AAAAAAAAADM/FmIXgtOkORg/s200/DSC00300.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Plates. Yeah.. Stacked to perfection.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_SbTM1KolYXQ/Rt-qagjl8SI/AAAAAAAAADU/69LWXN4w8iw/s1600-h/DSC00301.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5106987874853974306" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_SbTM1KolYXQ/Rt-qagjl8SI/AAAAAAAAADU/69LWXN4w8iw/s200/DSC00301.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;The ceilings of the Istana. Chandeliers. Yeah.. Exciting.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_SbTM1KolYXQ/Rt-q9Ajl8TI/AAAAAAAAADc/1HfbPS_7q6E/s1600-h/DSC00303.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5106988467559461170" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_SbTM1KolYXQ/Rt-q9Ajl8TI/AAAAAAAAADc/1HfbPS_7q6E/s200/DSC00303.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;The food was horrid. No offense. But the only nice thing is the salmon on the bread. The rest was either too hard or bland.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_SbTM1KolYXQ/Rt-rZwjl8UI/AAAAAAAAADk/VTujVQ8sxjc/s1600-h/DSC00304.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5106988961480700226" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_SbTM1KolYXQ/Rt-rZwjl8UI/AAAAAAAAADk/VTujVQ8sxjc/s200/DSC00304.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Pretty right?  But don't be deceived.  Only the round thing was nice.  Haiz..&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;And meanwhile, I was thinking about Aaron Kwok.  He was just next door.  And I was going to miss checking him out.  Sniff..&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&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/16821179-7827309981711095308?l=twenty28eight.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://twenty28eight.blogspot.com/feeds/7827309981711095308/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16821179&amp;postID=7827309981711095308' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16821179/posts/default/7827309981711095308'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16821179/posts/default/7827309981711095308'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://twenty28eight.blogspot.com/2007/09/first-september-blog-of-lady28.html' title='The First September Blog of Lady28'/><author><name>twenty28eight</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17757364471096294480</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3026/1607/1600/IMG_39841.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_SbTM1KolYXQ/Rt-qGAjl8RI/AAAAAAAAADM/FmIXgtOkORg/s72-c/DSC00300.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16821179.post-8111339649190200772</id><published>2007-08-28T21:45:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-08-28T21:58:46.445+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Boredom</title><content type='html'>I have a boring life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The following pictures attest to my lacklustre existence.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_SbTM1KolYXQ/RtQnswjl8OI/AAAAAAAAAC0/84XgTvgdt4Q/s1600-h/DSC00294.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5103747927619530978" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_SbTM1KolYXQ/RtQnswjl8OI/AAAAAAAAAC0/84XgTvgdt4Q/s200/DSC00294.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My kid's toenails.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_SbTM1KolYXQ/RtQoBgjl8PI/AAAAAAAAAC8/kzuVJPUqJ8w/s1600-h/DSC00293.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5103748284101816562" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_SbTM1KolYXQ/RtQoBgjl8PI/AAAAAAAAAC8/kzuVJPUqJ8w/s200/DSC00293.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;His tapered jester-like jeans.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_SbTM1KolYXQ/RtQoZAjl8QI/AAAAAAAAADE/hbpAlRtgzYA/s1600-h/DSC00292.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5103748687828742402" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_SbTM1KolYXQ/RtQoZAjl8QI/AAAAAAAAADE/hbpAlRtgzYA/s200/DSC00292.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And my Dar-Dar.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16821179-8111339649190200772?l=twenty28eight.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://twenty28eight.blogspot.com/feeds/8111339649190200772/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16821179&amp;postID=8111339649190200772' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16821179/posts/default/8111339649190200772'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16821179/posts/default/8111339649190200772'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://twenty28eight.blogspot.com/2007/08/boredom.html' title='Boredom'/><author><name>twenty28eight</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17757364471096294480</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3026/1607/1600/IMG_39841.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_SbTM1KolYXQ/RtQnswjl8OI/AAAAAAAAAC0/84XgTvgdt4Q/s72-c/DSC00294.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16821179.post-5015194502784966853</id><published>2007-08-11T07:43:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-08-11T08:03:36.583+08:00</updated><title type='text'>SECRET...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_SbTM1KolYXQ/Rrz8yznDKUI/AAAAAAAAACs/O46o9FTyn0s/s1600-h/213378.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5097226828054210882" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_SbTM1KolYXQ/Rrz8yznDKUI/AAAAAAAAACs/O46o9FTyn0s/s200/213378.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I am OFFICIALLY IN LOVE with JAY CHOU!!! Haahaa..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;SECRET is one superb romantic movie; too sacharine but I don't mind! My life evolves around my kids breaking up within a week and hitching up the next day. Most of my friends basically lack interesting, exciting and heart-pumping romance (or if they do, I won't know, right?). So, watching this movie brings back the good old days when I so looked forward to school (when I was studying, not when I'm working! Can hear Nad's "Paedophile" taunts in the background. Haahaa..). When going to lecture was to pass notes to friends and talking about our crushes. When seated in the canteen meant finding benches which were strategically located so that we could eye our 'targets' without being conspicuous.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yeah.. so boh liao then. Of course, when you are a teenager, everything meant something.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16821179-5015194502784966853?l=twenty28eight.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://twenty28eight.blogspot.com/feeds/5015194502784966853/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16821179&amp;postID=5015194502784966853' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16821179/posts/default/5015194502784966853'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16821179/posts/default/5015194502784966853'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://twenty28eight.blogspot.com/2007/08/secret.html' title='SECRET...'/><author><name>twenty28eight</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17757364471096294480</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3026/1607/1600/IMG_39841.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_SbTM1KolYXQ/Rrz8yznDKUI/AAAAAAAAACs/O46o9FTyn0s/s72-c/213378.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
