<?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-197971195958503036</id><updated>2012-02-03T20:23:45.311-08:00</updated><title type='text'>b u g f o r d i n n e r</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bugfordinner.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/197971195958503036/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bugfordinner.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><link rel='next' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/197971195958503036/posts/default?start-index=101&amp;max-results=100'/><author><name>Anthea (born c'92)</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09682674126991182155</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/TSMZT7tN7yI/AAAAAAAACSA/pOgOpTzZMmA/S220/155131_466084780414_619890414_5844925_3617531_n.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>264</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-197971195958503036.post-5267262731876368206</id><published>2011-02-02T01:34:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2011-02-02T01:39:15.228-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Been using bugfordinner this space for many years but I have this urge and feel to be a tumblr girl. Maybe when I'm sick of tumblr, I'll be here again. PS: I'll be updating more often!&lt;br /&gt;Click click &lt;a href="http://tumblx.tumblr.com/"&gt;tumblx.tumblr.com&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;See you there! x&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/197971195958503036-5267262731876368206?l=bugfordinner.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bugfordinner.blogspot.com/feeds/5267262731876368206/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=197971195958503036&amp;postID=5267262731876368206&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/197971195958503036/posts/default/5267262731876368206'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/197971195958503036/posts/default/5267262731876368206'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bugfordinner.blogspot.com/2011/02/been-using-bugfordinner-this-space-for.html' title=''/><author><name>Anthea (born c'92)</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09682674126991182155</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/TSMZT7tN7yI/AAAAAAAACSA/pOgOpTzZMmA/S220/155131_466084780414_619890414_5844925_3617531_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-197971195958503036.post-1916901113504877233</id><published>2011-01-30T23:17:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-01-30T07:17:34.622-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/TUWA8HTXLzI/AAAAAAAACSo/tvfoo-UKiu4/s1600/167387_497070785414_619890414_6311256_2746290_n.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 355px; height: 400px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/TUWA8HTXLzI/AAAAAAAACSo/tvfoo-UKiu4/s400/167387_497070785414_619890414_6311256_2746290_n.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5567998284554252082" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Come with me My Love to the sea&lt;br /&gt;The sea of love&lt;br /&gt;I want to tell you&lt;br /&gt;How much I love you&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/197971195958503036-1916901113504877233?l=bugfordinner.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bugfordinner.blogspot.com/feeds/1916901113504877233/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=197971195958503036&amp;postID=1916901113504877233&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/197971195958503036/posts/default/1916901113504877233'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/197971195958503036/posts/default/1916901113504877233'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bugfordinner.blogspot.com/2011/01/come-with-me-my-love-to-sea-sea-of-love.html' title=''/><author><name>Anthea (born c'92)</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09682674126991182155</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/TSMZT7tN7yI/AAAAAAAACSA/pOgOpTzZMmA/S220/155131_466084780414_619890414_5844925_3617531_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/TUWA8HTXLzI/AAAAAAAACSo/tvfoo-UKiu4/s72-c/167387_497070785414_619890414_6311256_2746290_n.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-197971195958503036.post-5823599906587942766</id><published>2011-01-25T02:12:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-01-24T10:12:44.011-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/TT0k1277BVI/AAAAAAAACSg/W3ndkzln45A/s1600/73126.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/TT0k1277BVI/AAAAAAAACSg/W3ndkzln45A/s400/73126.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5565645222198314322" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Playful Mafia has been spending 2 nights at my place. Frolicsome as ever, he always put a smile on my face even when I am in low spirits. It's nice waking up to him sprawling across to me, the urge to play once he sees me opening my eyes. I've took him out for 2 walks n baths, happy boy! Can't get enough of him. He's a nice and good puppy, even when the gate is open he won't dash out. Once or twice, he did - but he came back eventually, after a few steps... My family loves him a lot, and he prolly does too because each time someone comes home, he would jump so much and lick them all around, before yearning to play again. And when they were heading out, he would see them off at the gate, looking so melancholic. Aww. Both mornings, I would be disturbed by his constant barking. Turned out he wanted to get out of the room to play with my family. My Daddy or brother would just stand outside my door, and smart Mafia would get so jumpy n excited - both of them behind a thin glass door hoping to play with each other. So cute. Everyone talks to him, like how we talk to a small baby. Sadly, it's just that lovely Mafia of his own calibre has no dog friends. As much as we think it is unhealthy as there is no outside interaction, I would love to bring him out for more walks n maybe a day or two at some Dogs' Cafe. I'm willing to sacrifice my time for Mafia, just to make him happier...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't understand why do people abuse dogs, or other little animals... They are innocent and harmful. All they ask for is love and to take care of them. I just watched another cruel video of a bastard abusing  a toy poodle and it broke my heart. I knew I shouldn't watch any more of such videos because I'd get very angry and heart-broken. Till now, I'm still weeping away... If I were right there, I swear I would do the same thing back to him as what he did to the poor poodle. I mean, why would people do such a thing? Are their hearts made of cold hard stone? I don't understand...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/197971195958503036-5823599906587942766?l=bugfordinner.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bugfordinner.blogspot.com/feeds/5823599906587942766/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=197971195958503036&amp;postID=5823599906587942766&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/197971195958503036/posts/default/5823599906587942766'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/197971195958503036/posts/default/5823599906587942766'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bugfordinner.blogspot.com/2011/01/playful-mafia-has-been-spending-2.html' title=''/><author><name>Anthea (born c'92)</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09682674126991182155</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/TSMZT7tN7yI/AAAAAAAACSA/pOgOpTzZMmA/S220/155131_466084780414_619890414_5844925_3617531_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/TT0k1277BVI/AAAAAAAACSg/W3ndkzln45A/s72-c/73126.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-197971195958503036.post-6104959692350518268</id><published>2011-01-23T04:54:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-01-23T05:01:25.105-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>One thing I often ponder to myself is, why do new problems come after old issues have been resolved? There are many questions that will always remain unanswered. A week or two of misery, sorrow n despair, I've been so worn out. If you're curious as to what happened, even though my 19th birthday just passed, I would say some things are not what you see from the outside. You could be having an awesome party with all the close people around you, but are you truly happy? Have you ever felt scared? Afraid of expressing yourself out because you know the things you are gonna hear and get back would be the last thing you wanna hear in this world? Tell you something new... Since young, I was always quiet n would choose to keep my thoughts n feelings to myself instead of expressing them out - I then happened to realize I actually kept more than just a few diaries! But one thing I never stopped doing constantly was to write letters. It is something I used to do almost everyday; even when I've no one to write to, I'd just scribble a lot of heartfelt words on any notes I could find. Months later, I'd gladly chance upon some of them in all places. This is a good way to remind myself of stuff that I've once written - both good and bad. Positive words, surely it's a thing worth reminding n remembering for. While for negative thoughts, I'll take them as a motivation n encouragement of how I've gotten past them n grew up from&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Just recently, I don't really write anymore... Busy schedule; running around all day long running errands n settling stuff isn't a reasonable excuse for neglecting writing and reading, though. So I shall skip that part since I don't wanna get judged. Hehe. See, the bad side of being in a hiatus is that we don't let out our thoughts anymore. For my case, I've stopped sending my boyfriend endless written n sincere letters, n that's when all the problems seem even harder to be solved n get on with. As much as I could remember, I had been having a tough time coping with things, especially on my birthday week. It was even indescribable as everyday I was so immune to crying n breaking down. It was never the sort of thing like we were on a verge of breaking up, because we always have this strong faith and burning hope in us no matter how huge the problems have blown up to. But it had been extremely... difficult for me. Both R and I are short-tempered, impatient and sensitive - I'd say most of the time. Sometimes, it was impossible for us to communicate at all. I reckon this is one of the few obstacles couples go through together. Now that I think back, oh man, my birthday week was indeed terrible. Everyday was just crying and more crying... Even few hours before my birthday party, we were fighting so bad that I had zero mood to celebrate. We kept telling ourselves that we're gonna truly enjoy ourselves and put the conversation till after the party's over. For that instance, I knew it was impossible for me to spend a night with all my loved ones - and especially him - smiling n pretending I was the happiest girl n that everything was smooth and great. Boy, was I wrong. When the crowd started coming in, we were happy welcoming them that we soon forgot about the conflict and unhappiness we had...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Saturday was at Hard Rock Hotel, Resorts World Sentosa. He has indeed put in a lot of effort for the 15th as if his life depends on it. On the 16th, it was my 19th birthday as well as our actual 1st Year together but the hotel rooms were fully booked on the 16th so we had a celebration a day in advance. The cake-cutting moment was one of the most exciting parts of that day - surely it was - because I got such a pleasant surprise from the Love that my huge cake was Snoopy! &lt;a href="http://www.facebook.com/album.php?id=619890414&amp;amp;aid=266058#%21/photo.php?fbid=491642625414&amp;amp;set=a.491619875414.266058.619890414&amp;amp;theater"&gt;See cake...&lt;/a&gt; He specially arranged cherries for myself as well, knowing it's my favorite n he wouldn't want to miss out any single detail. What's more, Cherries, hmmm. It's something that would undoubtedly get me happy without a least bit of effort. To top it up, it wasn't easy to have that cake because he spent many long calls with the person on line - regarding the decorations n preferences of the cake. One thing I appreciate a lot too, was the Snoopy balloon he specially asked to customize. &lt;a href="http://www.facebook.com/album.php?id=619890414&amp;amp;aid=266058#%21/photo.php?fbid=491621290414&amp;amp;set=a.491619875414.266058.619890414&amp;amp;theater"&gt;See balloons...&lt;/a&gt; We were still in grouchy moods when we had the room access card but upon seeing the balloon, it just made me feel so touched n loved. At least I know he's true in heart n always gives me all his best. The whole night was just drinking, playing n more drinking. The midnight strikes; Alcohol starts. Martel n Black Label wasn't even enough. Then, most of them left in the dawn whilst we catch a few winks. The next day was a walk around RWS with my family. After continuous hours of walking, we headed back in the evening but I realized I left the camera charger in the hotel room! So we made a U-turn back again...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Speaking of which, my memory is getting from bad to worse. Ever since Dad got me my Blackberry, there were a few times I almost lost it. All of those careless moments were brought about by my negligence. I actually left it at the paying counters n would head back n retrieve it from some honest souls. It's not that I don't appreciate my stuff n belongings, but it just slips off my mind so easily! Just this morning, I realized I have lost my iTouch... Can't believe my mood was totally gone for the entire day. It was a Monthsary present from my bf n all that matters to me was that there are a lot of heartfelt words in it meant for R. You know times when you just thought of something so you scribble/type down lest you forget clean about it again? I had a few important issues that I've been meaning to fill my bf in. Right now the unacceptable fact lies right in front of me, what else can I do? So Monday, which was the 17th, we visited Universal Studios (USS). It was great apart from the fact that it rained that day n brought much inconvenience n that it closed at 7pm while we had the misleading idea  it was at 10pm. (I was still depressed that day because I remembered crying twice on that trip, yes things were that bad) We were checking out when I carelessly left the camera at the paying counter, yet again. It was then when the cashier chased after us for a short distance to return it to us, another kind soul. I would've popped a killer pill n die in silence if I were to lose all that fresh pictures we just took from the trip. It was so nice, so fun n memorable. &lt;a href="http://www.facebook.com/suzywire?sk=photos#%21/album.php?id=619890414&amp;amp;aid=266230&amp;amp;forceClose=1"&gt;See photos...&lt;/a&gt; We ended the night at Henderson Waves, talked under the broad sky n lightly cold wind about everything. I am pleased to say after that heart-to-heart talk, I stopped crying. It's a wonderful thing...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Special thanks to all the presents that I've received - Lots of make-up, though. Porter bag, my birthday dress, huge lovely cake, Gucci Rush my all-time fave a.k.a. secure perfume n USS tickets by my baby boy. My eldest brother for booking two hotel suites n the Gucci BB cover. My parents for their $$$ n endless love. My other three brothers for their $$$, present n infinite concern. Appreciation to the rest, who made the effort n everything else. I was hoping that my fave cousin Whitney would be there, though. Nevertheless, I had a good lunch at Cedele with her before her flight took off! A lot more words to be expressed but I shall keep them to myself...for it's 5am n I'm a bit shagged after a solid week of project meet-ups for the 1 hour presentation. It wasn't a tough job at all but I had been getting very little sleep. So, good night guys. Till then, x&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/197971195958503036-6104959692350518268?l=bugfordinner.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bugfordinner.blogspot.com/feeds/6104959692350518268/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=197971195958503036&amp;postID=6104959692350518268&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/197971195958503036/posts/default/6104959692350518268'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/197971195958503036/posts/default/6104959692350518268'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bugfordinner.blogspot.com/2011/01/one-thing-i-often-ponder-to-myself-is.html' title=''/><author><name>Anthea (born c'92)</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09682674126991182155</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/TSMZT7tN7yI/AAAAAAAACSA/pOgOpTzZMmA/S220/155131_466084780414_619890414_5844925_3617531_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-197971195958503036.post-5887021459320736659</id><published>2010-12-26T02:00:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-12-29T22:19:31.093-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Another busy week has passed, done with my business law paper and I was pleased as punch that it was doable &lt;!--[if gte mso 9]&gt;&lt;xml&gt; 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 mso-ascii-font-family:Calibri;  mso-ascii-theme-font:minor-latin;  mso-hansi-font-family:Calibri;  mso-hansi-theme-font:minor-latin;} &lt;/style&gt; &lt;![endif]--&gt;&lt;span style="line-height: 115%;font-family:&amp;quot;;font-size:11pt;"  lang="EN-US" &gt;—&lt;/span&gt; not as hard as expected. I did not study until the last hour before the paper, so I'm glad I was able to do it else I'd be such a dead meat! Roy and I are settled down in the new place with all the stuff in the cozy room. Pretty much done up and we hit Ikea store yesterday, got some baskets, boxes and what not. R and I both agreed that the most satisfying corners of the room are the area for my books and his display cabinet. For my area, as discussed and planned, we have a tall glass shelf for my books. Anyway they just take up two partitions, so Roy placed our love boxes on the others. The whole display set's very eye-capturing. But kinda shy that all the big boxes, cards and scrapbooks I did for him are all sitting on that big shelf that only an idiot will miss once stepped into the room. For his own cabinet which is beside the TV console and built-in wardrobe, he got his whole collection of watches and our childhood photos. So cute. I intend to save up more so he can have more collections of Mont Blanc on top of his own&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So much about the happy stuff, we do have our little disputes and misunderstanding too. Last wednesday, I had a sleep over at his place. We started quarreling at 6am and I just stood at the balcony to cry my heart out. After my head started to give problem again, we decided to put all things down n went to bed at 10am. Anyway, I wouldn't wanna talk about this because I won't want anyone to judge him. Alright, just an insight. He's a heavy sleeper. Not just that, but he doze off really fast; say 5 seconds? So I was feeling pretty upset and I thought I had a useless boyfriend. I hate to lay in bed, so awake that I just keep waiting for myself to get sleepy. Speaking of which, I have a part to play in too. I should have curbed on my temper better, and better. Things just happened at the wrong timing. Funnily, he'd always think I'm the hard-hearted n harsh one whenever we quarrel. How I bombarded him with all the harsh words and attitude, while not giving a damn for his feelings. But here on my side, I do think the same toward him. How on earth can someone so sweet and endearing become such a cold and stern guy right in front of me...Until I threw my arms over him and he came all soft again. I hate how we quarrel and at that instance, it felt like we don't know each other. Just yesterday, we were back from Ikea, sorting out all the boxes and stuff that have been laying there for days. I opened up this box and they were all his childhood photo albums. I flipped through the first photo and it was him doing an ugly-adorable face. I was told that he'd show me all his younger photos on our 1st year. True indeed, it brought this anticipating feeling in me and I always don't ask him to show them to me. So I closed it back, and that's when I noticed an envelope&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The envelope looked so unfamiliar and I knew it wasn't mine to him. I opened up (curiosity kills) but the pieces of letters looked like I wrote them for him, until... The words, the name 'She' called him, the signing off. Just then, he came into the room. "You might want to tear this up" I said as I passed that letter to him, head tilted to one side. Hey I was still giving a little smile. He opened up and we talked about it but my tears just kept flowing in 2 seconds. I was neither jealous nor angry but just purely disappointed that he didn't tell me things that I was supposed to know. I tell him every single detail of my life, literally of course. But it seems that I always find out stuff later that I hate to know/see/hear. Y'see, you always accept the ugly truths better if it comes out as an honest confession or self-explanation but once you find out things that he has been keeping from you (be it intentional or not to hide some small details that could mean a lot to you), that's it. And I don't understand why I am sad, he has to be mad. I told him to leave me alone, since for this case, what does he expect me to do. Forgive n forget the next sec? I can do that, but that won't come out honest from me. Right. After telling R to leave me alone while I sorted out his clothes, he told me to give it a thought since he didn't mind when he saw the past e-mails that I still keep. &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Well hey, those e-mails came from? Prashan? Sha? You know them. Now who signed out this sweet little letter for you? Melody? Oh who the hell is that&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't mean to kick a fuss out of this issue again but every time I find out stuff that I don't like, it makes me fall deeper into this whole disappointing shit again. I was so pleased, or more than just pleased, that at least we have this new room full of nothing but just us and our stuff. It may not mean much to a guy, but it hell does mean a lot to me. I was the one who taped up that box, which the damn letter was in it, and wrote a big 'Personal' on it. Then I brought it to the new place, and even opened up. Hell right it was personal! I do not see things as they are, I see things as we are. I thought that we have such a special room of our own, free from unwanted stuff. But days after we moved in, till I opened up that box, I have been staying in a room with a letter that stained our relationship. Yes, he immediately tore it up when he knew it upset me, because he really did not pack that box and saw the letter. If he knew it, he would have tore it up even way before we moved in. But again, how was I supposed to buy this story? I trust him, I love him a lot. Just that I don't like knowing things later that aren't even coming out of his mouth. I know that's how a relationship works. Disappointments and anger constitute a healthy one; having pure happiness every day does not make a couple stronger&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So to conclude all, I'm still very fortunate to have Roy in my life because not anyone can give me this much of love and affection. Throughout this 11 months plus of journey, our love has brought so much happiness, sadness and experiences to us. With him around, I always feel so comfortable. Even though there were many times I told him how tired I got and I didn't wanna have all of that anymore, he still hung on tight and believed with all of his heart that we would get through all together. He always believes and believes, never once has he given up on us. This is something I truly love about him, and it gives me so much assurance and faith in us too. Last Christmas, we started talking to each other at 12:40am. It was such a good talk because both of us felt comfortable and cheerful in such a long time! This year, we spent it together in a very simple way. Just the two of us, company that worth more than anything. We're turning 1 year old, and it's such a good feeling knowing that. Bursting from thinking of the awesome plans we made for the 16th of Jan. I love you, Roy. Always...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/197971195958503036-5887021459320736659?l=bugfordinner.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bugfordinner.blogspot.com/feeds/5887021459320736659/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=197971195958503036&amp;postID=5887021459320736659&amp;isPopup=true' title='20 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/197971195958503036/posts/default/5887021459320736659'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/197971195958503036/posts/default/5887021459320736659'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bugfordinner.blogspot.com/2010/12/another-busy-week-has-passed-we-are.html' title=''/><author><name>Anthea (born c'92)</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09682674126991182155</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/TSMZT7tN7yI/AAAAAAAACSA/pOgOpTzZMmA/S220/155131_466084780414_619890414_5844925_3617531_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>20</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-197971195958503036.post-7240391205095138987</id><published>2010-12-16T19:14:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-12-17T01:20:41.324-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>This week has been insanely busy but I have been enjoying every process. First were the never-ending online assignments; discussions, test reviews and essays. In the midst of the two modules that I was quite confident about getting Distinctions, I had to start studying for my next paper which is Business Law. Ok the stress part isn't here yet, cause I had quality relax n fun apart from the school stuff. Didn't really get much night rest though, and especially so when these few days I started on the B.L. assignment which totally got me stuck staring at my Macbook. Got my classmates's help but y'see, I still got these green veins popping out of my forehead. Haven't had them for a while, which means I haven't been feeling the stress till lately. Gonna need my Yoga again soon after I'm done with all these commitments. So the last time my cousin came over from Perth, I promised I was gonna do something special for her instead of the sweet letters that always got ants coming. I knew cupcakes were always her fave, so I told myself OK! I'm just gonna do that! And in the blink of an eye, 5 months passed and I baked some for her. To be honest, I didn't use Self-raising flour but basic flour with baking soda, did not put enough sugar even after knowing how much that girl needs it in her life, and I didn't get Unsalted butter. Okay what an impression I made... Haha but people who tasted the cupcakes I made gave nice comments though, which is no doubt encouraging :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know that in order to live a life that satisfy me, I need to be optimistic. Even like if I do all the stuff on the checklist of the week and I was not enjoying myself at all, there is no point. Of course it is so much easier said than done, but so long you try and give your best, there is always this ray of hope to happiness; being happy in whatever you do. I believe that everything that's done in this world is not just working through physical means or verbally, but hope. So last night I was with one of my favorite people, Whit. We spent the whole night talking about each other and when we got hungry, we hit the nearest 24/7 McDonalds. I began telling her why do I feel sad at night, like something is missing out of my life even though I know I have all that I need; Roy, my family, studies and everything else. She said perhaps I need more adventure. Is happiness an emotion, or just a state of mind? I do know that happiness doesn't come to everybody all the time, but it's like goal-driven and motivated. We all got to know what do we want in life and work toward it. I've been trying... Everything has been good and almost great now. I have the best boyfriend who showers me with endless love every second of my life, being so understanding and loving. I know my family will always be here for me too, just by the way they love me since I was born into this world. I can honestly say, I do feel the doldrums sometimes, but I'm perfectly okay - I'm very happy with what I got and who I am right now...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, today is my 11th month with my boyfriend, who loves me more than how much he loves eating, vice versa. As usual, I did a scrapbook and whipped up something for him this noon. This time round was Mexican cuisine, Mexican beef (Love the Ground Cumin taste) with Hot Artichoke Dip. Boy, how much he loved it! While I was in the kitchen, he collected my dress from the alteration. We are going to have our Spicy wings at Sunset Grill n Pub after months of talking about it. So excited! And all the more eager to look forward to our 1st year next 16th, which spells my 19th birthday too :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/197971195958503036-7240391205095138987?l=bugfordinner.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bugfordinner.blogspot.com/feeds/7240391205095138987/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=197971195958503036&amp;postID=7240391205095138987&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/197971195958503036/posts/default/7240391205095138987'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/197971195958503036/posts/default/7240391205095138987'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bugfordinner.blogspot.com/2010/12/this-week-has-been-insanely-busy-but-i.html' title=''/><author><name>Anthea (born c'92)</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09682674126991182155</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/TSMZT7tN7yI/AAAAAAAACSA/pOgOpTzZMmA/S220/155131_466084780414_619890414_5844925_3617531_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-197971195958503036.post-8468170008212677642</id><published>2010-12-09T20:07:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-12-09T04:14:20.866-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>School has been tiring and dreadful. It isn't because of my laziness that I haven't been attending my Accounting lectures and tutorials, but boy, you should meet this lecturer of mine. Just like for today, I could skip school in the morning but head down to that area again afterward, just for my Yoga. For the rest, they are lazy to go to school all because of the distance. So you see how it's not laziness that's killing me? On another note, the exams are near and my three modules are almost done. Time to really hit the books because my classmates and I haven't been listening in class except flashing our Ipod Touch and gaining access to the school wifi&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nice feeling of accomplishing something:I've been trying to fit in some yoga classes in between my schedule because I just can't bear to waste all this money and opportunity. R paid 1xxx for this whole 1-year package and even for myself, Yoga is really helpful for the muscles which would make the spine straight. The first few times I started doing Yoga, my balance, body muscles and even my patience were very bad. When I came home from my first trial, I was so juiced up and jumpy, telling R how much I love this center, the people over there and the dance and yoga classes. It's really a great opportunity because not all people can find the money and time to make this commitment. Thus far, I've gone for some classes like Hot Yoga, Gentle, Holistic Yoga, Sun Salutation, Therapy and Hatha Yoga. Even before joining this yoga center, I ever did go for Hatha with Michelle and it was funny cause we were more like having fun than being serious over there. The top reason I'm willing to go for the classes and not let my R's investment wasted is because Yoga is really a cure for people who are stressed-up, depressed and times when they feel lost in themselves. I'm not afraid to admit but I'm someone who is often emotional and my mind runs wild all the time. Yoga is the only time I don't frown and it's really fun to go through all of the moves even though some may be tough...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yoga Stretch&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/TP-UfQMHQwI/AAAAAAAACRU/CeExmWrxNUg/s1600/Yoga%2BStretch%2B2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 224px; height: 400px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/TP-UfQMHQwI/AAAAAAAACRU/CeExmWrxNUg/s400/Yoga%2BStretch%2B2.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5548316530586370818" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/TP-UfgXTL0I/AAAAAAAACRc/MK-IlEEorg8/s1600/Yoga%2BStretch%2B3.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 225px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/TP-UfgXTL0I/AAAAAAAACRc/MK-IlEEorg8/s400/Yoga%2BStretch%2B3.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5548316534928256834" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/TP-Ue6_XDkI/AAAAAAAACRM/mP2OyngWOJQ/s1600/Yoga%2BStretch.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 256px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/TP-Ue6_XDkI/AAAAAAAACRM/mP2OyngWOJQ/s400/Yoga%2BStretch.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5548316524895735362" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hot Flow&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/TQC_tDfKeJI/AAAAAAAACRk/9-h33iiscj4/s1600/yoga.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 357px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/TQC_tDfKeJI/AAAAAAAACRk/9-h33iiscj4/s400/yoga.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5548645521671485586" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/TQC_t6KG3JI/AAAAAAAACR0/TbQB2Y7b54c/s1600/177.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 286px; height: 400px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/TQC_t6KG3JI/AAAAAAAACR0/TbQB2Y7b54c/s400/177.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5548645536347118738" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/TQC_trw7UxI/AAAAAAAACRs/MRSLSPfow6I/s1600/FlowYoga.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/TQC_trw7UxI/AAAAAAAACRs/MRSLSPfow6I/s400/FlowYoga.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5548645532483408658" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I would love it if someone were to take pictures of me doing my postures because I can then post them in this blog instead of Googling for pictures. But it's just not gonna happen...... ;)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/197971195958503036-8468170008212677642?l=bugfordinner.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bugfordinner.blogspot.com/feeds/8468170008212677642/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=197971195958503036&amp;postID=8468170008212677642&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/197971195958503036/posts/default/8468170008212677642'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/197971195958503036/posts/default/8468170008212677642'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bugfordinner.blogspot.com/2010/12/yoga-stretch.html' title=''/><author><name>Anthea (born c'92)</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09682674126991182155</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/TSMZT7tN7yI/AAAAAAAACSA/pOgOpTzZMmA/S220/155131_466084780414_619890414_5844925_3617531_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/TP-UfQMHQwI/AAAAAAAACRU/CeExmWrxNUg/s72-c/Yoga%2BStretch%2B2.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-197971195958503036.post-4492256449921055435</id><published>2010-11-30T23:19:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-11-30T07:20:50.809-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I like how I would list out all of the things I want for my birthday and you would laugh so heartily like a boy. Even some days and in between talks, since months ago, I would be reminded of those stuff to be added onto my wish list. That's when I go on and go about the design/color and everything else that you need to know. I thought it would always make you go crazy, but never did — it always makes you truly happy and you promised all of them without second thoughts. X'mas is around the corner and x'mas 09 was the day we started talking. Yes, the day we officially got to know each other and it was such a great night, we clicked so beautifully...well. That moment would never come again —  like how we first started with talking all politely and make sure we don't blabber anything wrong — there is nothing finer than that. (Hahaha now we just speak our mind as and when we like! We even talk about the ugliest things) It is so cute whenever I thought of our little conversation on that night. U were stuck in camp for a duty and I cheered you up by saying how I do not like to celebrate x'mas. Seeing the relatives and arrogant kids with their big perfect x'mas tree, you told me how you like the idea that was going through my mind. So in roughly 3 weeks' time, it will be our official one year we met each other. It may mean nothing to anybody, but it does to me&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Rain has been making me so lazy to attend school now. I just want to watch all the seasons of Desperate Housewives and stay up all night. I know it's high time we get the coats and sneakers out but I have been so sleepy all day long that school is quite a dread for me nowadays. The lecturers are getting so pissed with us from the impatient looks on their faces. Just earlier today, we were having a sushi party in the classroom and there was never a day the class is silent with us around... So last night I was in bed catching my drama and a strong tornado hit Wisteria Lane. Just occurred to me how fortunate we are yet we don't realize this fact but keep complaining about how badly we want to leave this bad country. Personally, I'm a huge complainer being a Singapore resident but to be fair, we do not have to live through natural disasters like tornado, floods or tsunami. We just don't know how fortunate we actually are, at times&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/197971195958503036-4492256449921055435?l=bugfordinner.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bugfordinner.blogspot.com/feeds/4492256449921055435/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=197971195958503036&amp;postID=4492256449921055435&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/197971195958503036/posts/default/4492256449921055435'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/197971195958503036/posts/default/4492256449921055435'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bugfordinner.blogspot.com/2010/11/i-like-how-i-would-list-out-all-of.html' title=''/><author><name>Anthea (born c'92)</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09682674126991182155</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/TSMZT7tN7yI/AAAAAAAACSA/pOgOpTzZMmA/S220/155131_466084780414_619890414_5844925_3617531_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-197971195958503036.post-928277474346521164</id><published>2010-11-11T20:45:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-11-11T04:44:45.899-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Tried Sivananda Yoga yesterday... Started off with this position and I was sweating all over already!&lt;br /&gt;Especially the neck...&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/TNvOU4T3WMI/AAAAAAAACQk/yWzIIXx_dro/s1600/80577COR.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 262px; height: 196px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/TNvOU4T3WMI/AAAAAAAACQk/yWzIIXx_dro/s400/80577COR.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5538247024890566850" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/TNvOUoMkzHI/AAAAAAAACQc/2F_vncCA22c/s1600/2Jo%2BStarnes.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/TNvOUoMkzHI/AAAAAAAACQc/2F_vncCA22c/s400/2Jo%2BStarnes.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5538247020565023858" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/TNvOcDkXOaI/AAAAAAAACRE/EiMuHVWv0_8/s1600/YogaOnBeachTaghazout.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 309px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/TNvOcDkXOaI/AAAAAAAACRE/EiMuHVWv0_8/s400/YogaOnBeachTaghazout.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5538247148171639202" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/TNvOVKaa9lI/AAAAAAAACQ0/aQi8Ah92tow/s1600/Sivananda%2BYoga.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/TNvOVKaa9lI/AAAAAAAACQ0/aQi8Ah92tow/s400/Sivananda%2BYoga.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5538247029749904978" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/TNvOU2poX6I/AAAAAAAACQs/i5m1gy3moOU/s1600/revolvekapadaMichele1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 224px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/TNvOU2poX6I/AAAAAAAACQs/i5m1gy3moOU/s400/revolvekapadaMichele1.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5538247024444989346" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/TNvOb7j73AI/AAAAAAAACQ8/5GRouYZcnLc/s1600/Tessbio%2BPhoto.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 346px; height: 259px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/TNvOb7j73AI/AAAAAAAACQ8/5GRouYZcnLc/s400/Tessbio%2BPhoto.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5538247146022362114" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/TNvOU4T3WMI/AAAAAAAACQk/yWzIIXx_dro/s1600/80577COR.jpg"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/TNvOUva80sI/AAAAAAAACQU/Y33UCagC3ts/s1600/1libbygallerypg.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 306px; height: 396px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/TNvOUva80sI/AAAAAAAACQU/Y33UCagC3ts/s400/1libbygallerypg.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5538247022504366786" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Good experience. Gonna try out all the other types of Yoga...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/197971195958503036-928277474346521164?l=bugfordinner.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bugfordinner.blogspot.com/feeds/928277474346521164/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=197971195958503036&amp;postID=928277474346521164&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/197971195958503036/posts/default/928277474346521164'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/197971195958503036/posts/default/928277474346521164'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bugfordinner.blogspot.com/2010/11/tried-sivananda-yoga-yesterday.html' title=''/><author><name>Anthea (born c'92)</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09682674126991182155</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/TSMZT7tN7yI/AAAAAAAACSA/pOgOpTzZMmA/S220/155131_466084780414_619890414_5844925_3617531_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/TNvOU4T3WMI/AAAAAAAACQk/yWzIIXx_dro/s72-c/80577COR.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-197971195958503036.post-8115194427944530702</id><published>2010-11-09T15:00:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-11-09T00:11:51.949-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>When we were 10, we vowed to stay in a big house with a beautiful and exquisite hair salon, whereby we three girls would laugh through every single day with no worries. Sometimes we would get into small tiffs and I was always the one sandwiched in between. We were the bestest girlfriends; we got each others' back like if any were to be bullied, we would surely create hell of a hell. Even though we always stood so close and sweet, there were times we bitched about each other too. Maybe not for me though, I never liked Gossip Girls, while you girls were always more of the drama fans. A year ago, we were still having all the crazy sleepovers, never-ending laughter and fun. Do you still remember? I still marvel at the fact that although we have so much flaws that get on our nerves, it was so hard or impossible for me to get over you girls. Clothes of hers left in my wardrobe; The fat handwriting on my birthday card saying how much she loved me; The poignant road that we used to spend hours passing by and having heart-to-heart talks; Like a story enriched with details I can only imagine, so fresh and hard to forget. So I got her address today and decided to send out a letter filled with nothing but heart-felt words that I've been keeping in me...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;School's been well, especially good with the company of my classmates that make lessons not as dull as the lecturers' teaching ways. Home's good, getting livelier and glowing. My on-going relationship with my awesome bf has been great and crazy. Some days, I totally had some serious anger-management problem and our day was ended up in tears and hugs. It's a bliss to have him around, always so understanding. Yoga's been great too. Just a week ago, I joined this Combat Class that made me felt energized for the entire day; Just going around showing off the kick-boxing movements I've learned wasn't really a cool thing for a person like me who always need to maintain a pleasant image. Halloween was a week ago; I got my sailor girl costume just a day before. Bf was a pirate, and we spent a fun night with his friend Iain, and my classmates. Ended the night with supper at King Albert Park. Well I shouldn't have started this post with such sensitive issue especially because nowadays I rarely get the feel to type something out here anymore. Anyhow, it's never easy to entirely get some people out of your heart, not to mention erasing off from the complicated mind. So,  keep those you truly love&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm a lover, not a fighter. Unless it is necessary, I would never bother ending things up in a conflict. Usually, I tell myself not to care because I don't gain anything from it. Worse, would end up being called something nasty and earn myself a filthy reputation. I admit I'm not someone easy to please at times, this I admittedly agree I take over my Dad's trait. If anyone walks all over me, I'll suck it up for the first time and remain calm but I definitely don't stand there if there were to be harm caused. I think people are so used to seeing the naturally calm side of me that they take advantage. There is also another mad side of me which I don't like to see, and nobody would want to see that of me too. Say something unpleasant about my family, especially my parents and boyfriend, the term 'forgive but never forget' would inherently coined up. All of us just want to lead our lives morally. Who would want to see others getting hurt? I guess pretty much of us have met pathetic people in our lives, at least come across one who's 2-faced and always tries so hard to be nice to you in person but talks shit behind the back. Go get 'em!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/197971195958503036-8115194427944530702?l=bugfordinner.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bugfordinner.blogspot.com/feeds/8115194427944530702/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=197971195958503036&amp;postID=8115194427944530702&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/197971195958503036/posts/default/8115194427944530702'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/197971195958503036/posts/default/8115194427944530702'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bugfordinner.blogspot.com/2010/11/when-we-were-10-we-vowed-to-stay-in-big.html' title=''/><author><name>Anthea (born c'92)</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09682674126991182155</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/TSMZT7tN7yI/AAAAAAAACSA/pOgOpTzZMmA/S220/155131_466084780414_619890414_5844925_3617531_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-197971195958503036.post-2956202452752325921</id><published>2010-10-14T17:03:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-10-14T02:03:52.367-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>So I've been on a short hiatus and back with what I did for the past 2 weeks of school break. Everything hadn't been exactly great, shit happened here n there but well I made it through. If I were to describe my break in a sentence it'd most definitely be: I've been busy and crazy. Apart from the emotional breakdowns in between — upon saying this, it doesn't always happen to me and my boyfriend so you jealous little peas stop trying to judge my life if you know no shit — I  did a couple of fun things too&lt;br /&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;Tried Bollywood Dance n Fusion Dance (Of course I was just missing out a coconut tree for the Bollywood Dance to weave in and out, and Fusion; Wow, it was totally like Modern Dance which I've lately had a burning passion for. Slow graceful moves, full of expression. Exactly what I look for in dancing)&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Lunch with Karen (Who watched me grow)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Read up a Steak book and got 3 new novels from the Borders (I don't really read anymore now that school has taken up half of my time and I only get to do so during the journey to and fro from school)&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Grooming session for Mafia, but that naughty one scratched the car windows so hard that there were scratches which we need to get them changed for the new ones for extra cost (Will take a pic of it; so many deep scratches that couldn't possibly be able for us not to ignore)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Did my hair and I'm officially a redhead now!&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;Last night, many things ran through my mind — not that it didn't for the rest of the nights — but it was really a whole lot of thinking. As much as I would want myself to stay happy for a solid week without a single worry, it seems impossible enough. Don't even mention the trivial ones like how we get into argument and conflict in school or out somewhere. Maybe I've been harping onto it too much till the extent that it seems almost everyone around me has this day whereby they would stop and decide to give me shit. Everyone judges, but the worst is to actually believe in what you hear from others, instead of judging by yourself. I believe since I started getting all the unnecessary attention from secondary school — true indeed I didn't need any of those — people started bitching around about me, even things that are not true. I mean okay if you wanna talk about me, you make sure what you say are purely facts, and also, no one truly knows me except myself. Speaking of which, close people who know me would always say no matter how much time they've known me or how deep they know of me, they still don't quite get me at times. Even myself, I still marvel at the truth that I don't understand myself at times. But I like myself this way, so I see no need in people telling me to stop being contradicting or mysterious or whatsoever because I do not need to change in this way. So my point is that no one should hear from what others say, unless you see or hear it from yourself. If not, just imagine yourself getting bitched or backstabbed and hearing it from somewhere or someone you did not expect at all. Whenever somebody whispered something so not cool about someone, which obviously is called gossiping, I would go "Oh" and it immediately goes out from the other ear. Trust me, it's totally unfair for the innocent ones. Probably all my life those bitches out there have been making up stories about me and I ended up getting all the wrong opinions but that's alright for I believe in karma. What goes around, comes back around eventually&lt;br /&gt;ps: quit asking, my current classmates are a bunch of lame yet nice people; they don't talk bad about me. whatever I write here isn't exactly about me...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/197971195958503036-2956202452752325921?l=bugfordinner.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bugfordinner.blogspot.com/feeds/2956202452752325921/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=197971195958503036&amp;postID=2956202452752325921&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/197971195958503036/posts/default/2956202452752325921'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/197971195958503036/posts/default/2956202452752325921'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bugfordinner.blogspot.com/2010/10/so-ive-been-on-short-hiatus-and-back.html' title=''/><author><name>Anthea (born c'92)</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09682674126991182155</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/TSMZT7tN7yI/AAAAAAAACSA/pOgOpTzZMmA/S220/155131_466084780414_619890414_5844925_3617531_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-197971195958503036.post-4460453854143434838</id><published>2010-09-19T19:20:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-09-23T03:09:55.755-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>For the past few nights, we spent some good time with Bryan and Vincent. Went drinking after a good supper with Bryan. I was knocked out when I reached home... After a while, we still enjoyed going into M'sia to spend time with Vincent, with just some tea here and there. It was funny the way he cheered me up, despite the fact that my boy was being such a turd right beside. But after a good cry and some laughter, we managed to get even closer than before. Such a shame whenever we had to let anger get over our head. However angry I might be, I still must consider the fact that he's been so wonderful to me and I can never find another him in others. On the 16th this month, he actually took all the effort to find all the Snoopy that I wanted. First was a Snoopy bolster. Then was a red one that caught my attention even though we were talking unhappily over the line. The third one was a pink one that both of us saw on a toy vending machine. I was rather grumpy when we couldn't get it and seeing how sad I was, (that was what he said) he blurted out something that immediately got me mad. Well I was, and do you have any idea what he actually said? He was like "okay I'll get it for you don't worry else we won't get married at all" Boy was I super pissed that I began fucking the shit out of him. "how could you take our marriage so easily? it's just a toy, i don't need it... get away" He was like laughing all the way and omg, trust me, I almost punched him right in the face. That night, he took me to a place with a beautiful view up on top of the trees. Not only that, he did present the pink Snoopy plush to me. So, the curse is broken, and we can get married...?&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/TJjKFLmxScI/AAAAAAAACP0/evFir_lMaGY/s1600/Picture+241.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/TJjKFLmxScI/AAAAAAAACP0/evFir_lMaGY/s400/Picture+241.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5519383533706103234" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/TJjKEuL0XzI/AAAAAAAACPs/-TQHqukIbKM/s1600/Picture+227-.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/TJjKEuL0XzI/AAAAAAAACPs/-TQHqukIbKM/s400/Picture+227-.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5519383525808430898" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/TJjKD7hvVdI/AAAAAAAACPk/qPa4wZcBtx0/s1600/Picture+247.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/TJjKD7hvVdI/AAAAAAAACPk/qPa4wZcBtx0/s400/Picture+247.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5519383512210167250" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Right so being a puppy with everyone celebrating his 2nd birthday with a special cake edible for both him and us, with a huge jar of cookies and other food, what else more can he ask for? I can say he's quite fortunate already... In a while's time, we are all going down to throw a small party for the little one. Can't wait&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/TJsmqp6Le5I/AAAAAAAACQE/X9OQ4UVhRvU/s1600/61505.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/TJsmqp6Le5I/AAAAAAAACQE/X9OQ4UVhRvU/s400/61505.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5520048282518911890" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/TJsmq-vQNnI/AAAAAAAACQM/g0-VMP8FIVY/s1600/62833.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/TJsmq-vQNnI/AAAAAAAACQM/g0-VMP8FIVY/s400/62833.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5520048288110229106" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/TJsmpwCnc6I/AAAAAAAACP8/7eoC1Emk7Ik/s1600/58711.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/TJsmpwCnc6I/AAAAAAAACP8/7eoC1Emk7Ik/s400/58711.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5520048266985042850" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/197971195958503036-4460453854143434838?l=bugfordinner.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bugfordinner.blogspot.com/feeds/4460453854143434838/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=197971195958503036&amp;postID=4460453854143434838&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/197971195958503036/posts/default/4460453854143434838'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/197971195958503036/posts/default/4460453854143434838'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bugfordinner.blogspot.com/2010/09/for-past-few-nights-we-spent-some-good.html' title=''/><author><name>Anthea (born c'92)</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09682674126991182155</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/TSMZT7tN7yI/AAAAAAAACSA/pOgOpTzZMmA/S220/155131_466084780414_619890414_5844925_3617531_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/TJjKFLmxScI/AAAAAAAACP0/evFir_lMaGY/s72-c/Picture+241.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-197971195958503036.post-4016813185452381810</id><published>2010-09-13T01:01:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-09-12T09:59:12.599-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>After one of the usual dinners at Bottle Tree, we were thinking of places to spend our Sat night. We ended up at the Firestation Hillside Gastrobar sipping liquor with buffalo wings while my love had his usual beer. I was greeted by this strong pungent scent amongst the lush scenery once I sat down onto the couch. It got better for me after we changed seats immediately. Started talking a bit louder after I was beet red cos I thought I wanted to hear my own echo other than the background music. Everything was peaceful and nice till this waitress who had voice as deep as the combination of three bulls disturbed my inner peace. I wish I can rewind back the time and listen to all that you had to say. You, together with the right atmosphere, were beautiful and memorable. You started pouring your heart out and getting pretty emotional with things that have been gnawing at you. The moonlight beaming down and with that melancholy eyes of yours, I told myself again that I am gonna be there for you all my life. I want to protect you, from all harm and unfairness&lt;br /&gt;I think we’re always responsible for our actions. We’re free. I raise my hand – I’m responsible. I turn my head to the right – I’m responsible. I’m unhappy – I’m responsible. I smoke a cigarette – I’m responsible. I shut my eyes – I’m responsible. I forget that I’m responsible, but I am. I told you escape is a pipe dream. After all, everything is beautiful. You only have to take an interest in things, see their beauty. It’s true. After all, things are just what they are. A face is a face. Plates are plates. Men are men. And life...is life.&lt;br /&gt;- Vivre Sa Vie (1962)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/197971195958503036-4016813185452381810?l=bugfordinner.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bugfordinner.blogspot.com/feeds/4016813185452381810/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=197971195958503036&amp;postID=4016813185452381810&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/197971195958503036/posts/default/4016813185452381810'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/197971195958503036/posts/default/4016813185452381810'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bugfordinner.blogspot.com/2010/09/after-one-of-usual-dinners-at-bottle.html' title=''/><author><name>Anthea (born c'92)</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09682674126991182155</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/TSMZT7tN7yI/AAAAAAAACSA/pOgOpTzZMmA/S220/155131_466084780414_619890414_5844925_3617531_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-197971195958503036.post-3320167274989208533</id><published>2010-09-09T20:07:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-09-09T05:12:28.367-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>A pretty bad week trying to fight off the massive weakness throughout my whole body. Had a bloated stomach and constant nausea, sucks. Other than that, the concern I got from my surrounding people—especially R for taking care of me—was indeed worth it. Days before that illness which I deemed as Hell, I was still indulging myself in Sashimi and liquors. Was indeed a bad time to go through, I had no appetite at all and my moods changed way faster than how much time I took to force myself to eat up a spoonful of porridge. Even before the previous week, Love was already down with terrible cough, flu and slight fever. I guess it hurt us pretty deep to see each other in such state. On the other side, things were well. It all comes down to these same few things each time I try to pen down my thoughts of the week. Things that I learn everyday; patience, love, understanding. Things like time, money, friendship, happiness, sorrow&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sorrow... Many times at night, he would get all quiet and stare at us with pure sadness in the eyes. We have been observing this for long. Whenever it's time for us to get out of home, he would sit by the couch, munch on his big fat ball slowly; nibble, stare, stop. He would wag his tail when we give him treats, but it doesn't do much of effect after a while.   It saddens me that the only possible fact to this behavior could be due to loneliness. We can't do anything to change this, but we could only sigh by the fact of how unfair life can get at times. It does break my heart to see him wag his tail whenever he sees me at the gate; how his head would tilt from one side to another when he hears something funny or attractive like the magical word "Mamam"—which means food; and how he would sit around me when I eat cause knowing what's on his mind, I'm always the one who would give my food to him. On the sad part, I don't think he ever knows I do feel sad for him. Does he? When I see him cry, I can't help but cry along too. Every live has emotions, and when it comes to him, I'm always trying to be understanding toward all things. Even though he can never know how I feel, but I don't blame him&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well once or twice when I used to cry, he would come over, stare for a sec then lick me all over. From how he tried to get near me to show some affection, I knew from then that sometimes he wished he could help but was clueless on how to, even though I could say he has already helped so by licking my bitter tears away. I don't deny I do know they non-human beings do get emotionally complex too.  Previously, I had done some research on whether they do in fact cry but I got answers like they do only when they are hungry, hurt, neglected or want some attention. It can't be any of these reasons that he feels sad because we always make sure he gets enough food—well at least I do—and whenever R or I would accidentally step on his little toe we would apologize and pamper him like a baby. No way would he feel neglected, I always try to play with him with every chance I get even when I'm occupied with work. I mean 9/10 of the researches strongly agree that castration is the right way. Of course till now, I'm still not certain if it is indeed so. Sure indeed it's best for its health and to increase longevity. But again, I'm sure everyone who has a choice to live, would want to experience all the things thoroughly in life. By neutering, we can save another 5 years or so, but well, in loneliness. I still think these things matter the most in the end: How fully did we get to live and experience, and not the period of life. I mean I'm not married with a happy family of my own yet, but I bet it's such a bliss to see children of your own blood! Or for this case, a bunch of baby pups cuddling around. Aww. But what's done has been done and I strongly believe every human being and non-human has the right to live life deeply and meaningfully. Most people would ultimately disagree, still harping onto the fact that neutering would be the best decision. Well I guess it still boils down to the same conclusion; they are just like us humans, having to fight against emotions; for loneliness is the worst suffering on earth. We can only suck it up and share our happiness with him as best as we could. Love you, Maf&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Every living creature has emotions. Like myself, I have grown to love the little one more and more each day. I never get sick of seeing him. Days when R and I would get unhappy with each other, the sight of M would bring a smile on our face and make things all right. It's really sad to see him tear, how his eyes would get so red and watery. Listeners would disagree by saying how their eyes are naturally watery but all I have to say is I can literally connect myself to him psychologically. I understand what he has to go through—the happy and sad parts, or at least I try to. Here I'm doing up this long post and crying, yet again, for one of the love ones in my life. Hands up to emotions for I give in too easily most of the time. It's been quite a while since I last posted pictures in my blog posts. I shall upload 4 for now, but of course you won't see my face here&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/TIjIiZNfQXI/AAAAAAAACPU/AoJXEWc7qrs/s1600/23.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 341px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/TIjIiZNfQXI/AAAAAAAACPU/AoJXEWc7qrs/s400/23.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5514878236923740530" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/TIjIhc6ySdI/AAAAAAAACPM/FHzYoVgszks/s1600/96.large.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 387px; height: 260px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/TIjIhc6ySdI/AAAAAAAACPM/FHzYoVgszks/s400/96.large.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5514878220739168722" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/TIjIgzTdm6I/AAAAAAAACPE/NiWkoDZDp8U/s1600/34.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/TIjIgzTdm6I/AAAAAAAACPE/NiWkoDZDp8U/s400/34.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5514878209568381858" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/TIjPCooFzWI/AAAAAAAACPc/wGoQt4qvOCw/s1600/31201_39695.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/TIjPCooFzWI/AAAAAAAACPc/wGoQt4qvOCw/s400/31201_39695.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5514885387887431010" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/197971195958503036-3320167274989208533?l=bugfordinner.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bugfordinner.blogspot.com/feeds/3320167274989208533/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=197971195958503036&amp;postID=3320167274989208533&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/197971195958503036/posts/default/3320167274989208533'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/197971195958503036/posts/default/3320167274989208533'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bugfordinner.blogspot.com/2010/09/pretty-bad-week-trying-to-fight-off.html' title=''/><author><name>Anthea (born c'92)</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09682674126991182155</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/TSMZT7tN7yI/AAAAAAAACSA/pOgOpTzZMmA/S220/155131_466084780414_619890414_5844925_3617531_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/TIjIiZNfQXI/AAAAAAAACPU/AoJXEWc7qrs/s72-c/23.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-197971195958503036.post-6436344072515294209</id><published>2010-08-29T00:00:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-08-28T09:03:27.280-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I remember the fun times we had, I do. In fact it comes to my mind quite often, even during the busiest moments of the day. When we reconciled years back, I thought it was so nice hanging out again. As we started getting better and better each day, I swear it was the best time of my life—having you as my best friend by my side everyday. We eat, laugh, sing, sleep, and cry together. Until I stopped meeting you and actually told you straight that you weren't a nice friend because of your personalities and how you acted. I was blunt and harsh but those were true words from my heart. Even though we do not talk, meet up and laugh together as much now, but I can't help the memories from flooding back too. Can't help but keep replaying the sad song on your blog, and can't help it but drop a hundred tears for you. Well, my bf just came and cried along with me too. We had such a special friendship that I won't be able to forget in this lifetime. I just wish you well, for the rest of your cheerful years ahead. Keep on smiling, for your smile is the only thing that will stay so clear in my mind for as long, really&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/197971195958503036-6436344072515294209?l=bugfordinner.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bugfordinner.blogspot.com/feeds/6436344072515294209/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=197971195958503036&amp;postID=6436344072515294209&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/197971195958503036/posts/default/6436344072515294209'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/197971195958503036/posts/default/6436344072515294209'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bugfordinner.blogspot.com/2010/08/i-remember-fun-times-we-had-i-do.html' title=''/><author><name>Anthea (born c'92)</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09682674126991182155</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/TSMZT7tN7yI/AAAAAAAACSA/pOgOpTzZMmA/S220/155131_466084780414_619890414_5844925_3617531_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-197971195958503036.post-6243596027815006809</id><published>2010-08-26T00:25:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-08-25T09:32:06.488-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;Just few of my favorites to share over here...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=w1y3osZmaBk"&gt;http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=w1y3osZmaBk&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_Yk3TgyvaK8&amp;amp;feature=related"&gt;http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_Yk3TgyvaK8&amp;amp;feature=related&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nN0AyGVN-eY&amp;amp;feature=related"&gt;http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nN0AyGVN-eY&amp;amp;feature=related&lt;/a&gt; love the most&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=w1y3osZmaBk"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4iKPA59wAJI&amp;amp;feature=related"&gt;http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4iKPA59wAJI&amp;amp;feature=related&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SV-RC9tyP84"&gt;http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SV-RC9tyP84&lt;/a&gt; love the girl&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=h_WBwV6qS0U&amp;amp;feature=related"&gt;http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=h_WBwV6qS0U&amp;amp;feature=related&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/197971195958503036-6243596027815006809?l=bugfordinner.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bugfordinner.blogspot.com/feeds/6243596027815006809/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=197971195958503036&amp;postID=6243596027815006809&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/197971195958503036/posts/default/6243596027815006809'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/197971195958503036/posts/default/6243596027815006809'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bugfordinner.blogspot.com/2010/08/just-few-of-my-favorites-to-share-over.html' title=''/><author><name>Anthea (born c'92)</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09682674126991182155</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/TSMZT7tN7yI/AAAAAAAACSA/pOgOpTzZMmA/S220/155131_466084780414_619890414_5844925_3617531_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-197971195958503036.post-6622833494246887244</id><published>2010-08-23T19:00:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-08-23T04:00:14.329-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>These are past memories... How I grew up from all the temporary happiness which I deemed could last me a lifetime, sorrows and unhappiness that made me stronger, and tolerates that I had been enduring before I put a halt to everything...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I just started my first year in sec school, everything was new and fresh to me. I learned to cook for that person I regarded as my love one, I cried so much but I thought I was just not mature enough to handle things, I went home in my uniform so late everyday; the earliest would be 6 in the evening and latest would go up till 11pm. It hasn't even hit me till we stopped seeing each other completely that I wasn't sure if my love for you was that strong as my determination was to wait up. We could only communicate through letters, and only letters. It was tough for me to make that decision, but I'm glad I did and not pulled it till later. Screw "Absence makes the heart grow fonder". I was young and shy, but what we had—I wouldn't say was puppy love—was no doubt memorable as it was my first and it lasted for a 3 years. But it does not matter as much to me now that we have gone our own separate ways. You were gentle yet aggressive, kind yet the last impression I had of you wasn't like this, understanding and honest yet jealous and always attempting to violence. Now, you are just a guy who walked past my life&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In between, I was having many close relationships with guys—I wouldn't  say flings—but they didn't last long and memorable enough for me to  express down here. Until in 2008, things were serious again. It was all wrong from the start. From the moment I lay my eyes on your  hands—the ring on your fourth finger shining so brightly under the  sunlight—it was already wrong. It was a great week spent together, but as days went by, I began having the gnawing anxiety at how soon all of that would end. We only had a few days to see each other, and how hard it was to force those terrible negative feelings away. True as expected—even though we still get to talk after you took your flight back—it was not the same anymore. I fell in a deep depression; nothing mattered anymore and I only wanted to fly over to spend all my time with you. Ask my friends; oh they knew how sad I was. You were optimistic yet always giving those sad eyes, small-sized but tough in fact, sweet and but not very receptive toward confessions, dark; I never knew what you were thinking behind those smiles. Now, I think of you as just a hi-bye friend&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The people who claimed they knew me—in actual fact no one really did—said I was sort of a full supporter of multiple races because one day I could be seen dating a Malay, Caucasian, then the next with Indian, and whatever. I did not plan that, as it all just came naturally though. I met someone who was very kind, and he had the same birthday as my mom whom I thought of as the kindest person in the world. But things weren't that simple after a few months. I thought I was going out with a multiple personality disorder person; in the middle of the night he would demand me to cab down to look for him when I was having my major exam. Ask the girls, they were so mad either! Then I heard stuff that torn me apart. At that moment, I only felt like stealing a gun and blow his head off. But no, I couldn't waste my future on him, when I already had done so for 6 months. Anyway, I'd say he's the worst I've ever met... Enuff'&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After having gone through all that, I was sure I wasn't gonna fall for anyone any more, at least not for a while. Been through so much shit and I was left in a mess, I received the best X'mas present ever—That boy called Roy whom our friend in common was Raymond. On 25th Dec 2009. I still remember the following day after we first met, I was away on a vacation for a few days. As much as I'd like to think of, I wasn't truly enjoying myself because I missed talking to you. The feeling was so strong and new. It was crazy, but you had already become a part of me at that instant. You are the only person who will drop everything to be with me at any time no matter what the circumstances. We often come up with endless questions that we know will never be answered—why do we only meet each other now after going through so many previous people and all the shits. Perhaps the nearest answer to that would be how we grow from all of the heartbreaks and sorrows, else we wouldn't be as strong as we are like right now. It's true that you are the best thing that has ever happened in my life. I'd wanna grow old with you, I want you to be my last guy, I wanna marry you. It's true—I want nothing except this feeling to go on forever&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/197971195958503036-6622833494246887244?l=bugfordinner.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bugfordinner.blogspot.com/feeds/6622833494246887244/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=197971195958503036&amp;postID=6622833494246887244&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/197971195958503036/posts/default/6622833494246887244'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/197971195958503036/posts/default/6622833494246887244'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bugfordinner.blogspot.com/2010/08/these-are-past-memories.html' title=''/><author><name>Anthea (born c'92)</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09682674126991182155</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/TSMZT7tN7yI/AAAAAAAACSA/pOgOpTzZMmA/S220/155131_466084780414_619890414_5844925_3617531_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-197971195958503036.post-5167046244817115101</id><published>2010-08-19T00:31:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-08-18T09:41:11.798-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Just today, the program managers were here to listen to our feedback about this lecturer that my classmates were so persistent to chase her out of the class and never come back. So no doubt, lecturer M does have very strong indian slang but I'm still fine; quite neutral towards her. The main problem they're just unhappy with is that every sec or two she'd drop us e-mail to do up on our  online discussion board. And they felt quite pressurized because being college students, obviously we'd want to totally have no contact with books and just let loose - at least for a good weekend - but it seemed like M kept bombarding us with e-mails asking us to update every now and then. I do admit this is sick, but on the fair side, if we really have the intention - we got every right and it's our choice - to ignore all of these then we won't be grumbling right now. I've been burning my past 3 weekends with piles of school work. Been busy and crazy with not just the latter, but also with my personal life; emotions kinda screwed lately&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Okay I know there are so much things I want to talk about in my blog, to just update it as and when I want and need to, like on a daily basis but I did not. I logged into this account and begun writing, barely a sentence and I just backspaced everything then close down the window. Obviously I couldn't have the urge in me to like, flounce from the internet given my unstable emotions. That's why I'm sitting down talking about the changes in my life so calmly now. Faced with really difficult problems and things, well they were escalating and getting worse, which had reached the breaking point already. I cried all the time, too much, till my head couldn't take the extreme pain and I had to use the TV controller to hit it uncountable times. I bet those tears I shed for continuous days and nights could fill up a cup to its brim. I was in such dire straits that I felt so lost of what to do at all. Normally, I'm not this bad off but I was just generally sad. I mean, depressed. So I started throwing my tantrums a lot, even since the beginning of this year. My anger management was just getting worse till on one special day, which marked my 7th month with my boyfriend, I promised to curb my temper after all this shit. Now, I'm taking an overview and expressing out what I felt, and feel, because we all have to move on in life. PS: Even though it's just 2 days, but I haven't showed a slight of temper, and I'm feeling proud of myself. This is one thing I'm gonna continue working hard for in myself because it does affect my surrounding people's moods a lot. And I'm already 18 and old enough to know what is wise&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yesterday, we sat in the dark and had a heart-to-heart talk. You taught me something valuable - you always do. When we have too high expectations of all things, and forget the fact that not all things go our way, we can only expect disappointments in the end. An army of invisible men lines up in us, they link arms and form a barrier that separates us from our soul. But if we are easy on things, most importantly, easy on ourselves, the men will put down their shields and rest. Then, we can be all of us again. It isn't easy to change so much negative sides of myself; be it having highly expectations since forever, being so temperamental and bad-tempered, or expecting things to always stay the same. I'm getting the grip of it and I'm sure I can pull it off far better than I had tried before - which I kept returning back to the same attitude after a while. It's you that give me so much faith to get better in every way, R. I don't want my negativeness to put our relationship at a risk, if y'know what I mean. My friends said I seem like a great girlfriend, to always write you notes, buy nothing much for myself but spending on you when your intention to gimme allowance was to spend solely on myself, and etc. I would beg to differ; I didn't know how to treat you better in the beginning of our relationship. All these cruel memories come flooding back to me and I can't help but bring it all up and remind myself what a bitch I was.&lt;br /&gt;- When we were about 2 or 3 months old, I got angry over the slightest things because I felt you needed to dote on me and not be mad at me afterward. When we were in the game shop, I told you my head was hurting bad. Judging so well of the situation and problem, you took off my hairband because it was really hard on my head. I got pissed and refused to talk to you for a while. That was one of the times I feel what an asshole should be like.&lt;br /&gt;- Then, when we were out, I'd tell you how cute that guy was and how the other smiled at me. I did not consider your feelings, knowing how hurt you must have felt while I said all that in a moment of folly. I was so ignorant and you were so silly. Right now, it would kill me to even see you talking to girls in the service line. Huh, pretty pathetic right? I can go on and on about how I didn't used to care that much of your feelings, but I swear upon anything that right now I'm absolutely particular about how you feel every time I made a statement and if I am doing good enough for you&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now that I'm reminded of it, I went to M'sia, Pontian, with R and his parents on a Sunday morning - in between my busy weekends. It was a nice trip, with a lot of plantations everywhere. We went to this wet market and everybody was talking in their loudest tone. The fishes were so huge and even though I can never stand the stench of wet market, I still felt quite comfortable and warm because the people there were so happy and friendly. When I was around 5 years old, I'd always wait for mom somewhere outside the wet market when she was shopping for the freshest groceries, although lecherous uncles would never stop whistling at me, god damn yes I was just so young I wasn't even tall enough to kick those filthy smelly asses. From Pontian, we bought a lot of durians and fishes home. It was a simple trip but at least it relaxed me a little. So today after class, I headed for lunch with my big bunch of classmates and spent our noon at the arcade. They were pretty nice, knowing I had to look for some books, they accompanied me everywhere - like all of them. We had much laughter... They were going through this Name book and begun searching up for definitions of names and started laughing by themselves. Anthea was flower and Roy was the king. So yup. I was playing this fighting video game with the guys and I beat two of 'em as easy as peanuts but Melvyn took up my challenge and man, he was good at that. Sweetheart, let us play that sometime soon! We should take a break from Naruto already. Goal this week: Take a breather outside enjoying nature and think of how fortunate I am, as compared to people who don't have things that I do. x&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/197971195958503036-5167046244817115101?l=bugfordinner.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bugfordinner.blogspot.com/feeds/5167046244817115101/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=197971195958503036&amp;postID=5167046244817115101&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/197971195958503036/posts/default/5167046244817115101'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/197971195958503036/posts/default/5167046244817115101'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bugfordinner.blogspot.com/2010/08/just-today-program-managers-were-here.html' title=''/><author><name>Anthea (born c'92)</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09682674126991182155</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/TSMZT7tN7yI/AAAAAAAACSA/pOgOpTzZMmA/S220/155131_466084780414_619890414_5844925_3617531_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-197971195958503036.post-2642582746134462202</id><published>2010-07-31T01:09:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-07-30T10:14:43.065-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;I've had a really bad night yesterday. The thoughts that got me pondering over kept me awake till 5am when I had to wake up in few hours' time for my driving test. We do all kinds of things to safeguard ourselves; impulse decisions. For instance, lie to the people we love. The last time I lied, (as far as my memory takes me) I felt downright disgusted by myself. I'm not saying my partner has cheated me, vice versa. It's just a random bring-up... They say, when you lie intentionally especially to your loved ones, you will get burnt in hell. I don't believe in hell but I heck do believe in karma. Once you lie, you will need 99 excuses to cover up. Before you make a fool out of yourself and by causing hurt to the other partner, why not be honest from the start? It doesn't harm to be true, although truth hurts. We do things out of our conscience.  Clear conscience is resisting temptation/not lie of a small mistake so as not to hurt the other person. If we still want to go ahead with doing something we obviously know is morally wrong, then there needs to be some good burning and spanking of ass in hell&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;You have never lied to me, as far as I know of. I just need you to stay this way&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Each day, there will be new obstacles. There are endless of things to worry for in this world. I'm born a worrier, but who says I can't change this fact? Anything can be changed so long we put our heart into doing it. Just yesterday, I told R: "I'm impulsive, stubborn, hot-tempered. Guess I'm fated to be like this all my life" He replied saying: "Now you're wrong; we can control and change our fate. Those traits you mentioned, can all be improved and reduced. Fate lies in your hands." So me being the greatest worrier, which runs in the genes, I should just follow my natural rhythm to do all things, and maybe it will get better. I must learn to let loose, relax and enjoy every process...no? Speaking of which, I have this issue with 'expectations' for long&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I always expect a lot—all my life I've been like this—and what I got from the results are pure disappointments. It's important to have expectations in life, but too much of them just screw things up. Don't talk about nervousness or calmness; even when I am totally calm I still get shits. Things just always don't go the way we want (one of the facts we have to live with) It's not an easy task to erase off overly-high expectations. Well I just don't like how when things don't end up the way we expected, we get so disappointed. Time after time...and my emotions are so screwed. They have hurt me so much, since I started telling myself I need to score A for this and that; I want that perfect boy; I need to do these tasks within a period. Goals. We have goals in life because we have a standard of expectations in the future. But doesn't it seem like we're so obsessed with working out our goals that we find ourselves living in the future instead of the present? Having plans is most crucial amongst all; at least we know we are working towards something realistic and useful, instead of completing the goals that we just want to accomplish and feel happy for that instant&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Anthea, xoxo&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/197971195958503036-2642582746134462202?l=bugfordinner.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bugfordinner.blogspot.com/feeds/2642582746134462202/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=197971195958503036&amp;postID=2642582746134462202&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/197971195958503036/posts/default/2642582746134462202'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/197971195958503036/posts/default/2642582746134462202'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bugfordinner.blogspot.com/2010/07/ive-had-really-bad-night-yesterday.html' title=''/><author><name>Anthea (born c'92)</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09682674126991182155</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/TSMZT7tN7yI/AAAAAAAACSA/pOgOpTzZMmA/S220/155131_466084780414_619890414_5844925_3617531_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-197971195958503036.post-324083515649831287</id><published>2010-07-24T05:13:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-07-23T14:26:20.532-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>4:55AM. Boyfriend is washing his car while I am feeling 99% awake. No, isn't an early morning for both of us, all the more not a morning car wash. We just came back from the car workshop at around 2 so yeah we reached around 9pm but waited for hours to do up the headlights. Anyway, this afternoon we were at some workshop either; took off the bonnet and boot, and replaced with the original stock white ones. It was very hard for us to part with the bonnet, esp R, who had spent so much time with it. The whole time, he was very nostalgic, and I mean very. I kept putting happy songs on repeat, did retarded dance movements like yoYoyy0 and pretended I was the airplane and shooting stars. He told me how much he loves this happy side of me. Now baby projectR looks more to the classy side. We have been drafting out all our ideas and now it's finally done, well almost. In all honesty, I'm loving this new look...&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Anyway, at the workshop this arvo, I saw three parrots. One was pure white and cheerful, the other with beautiful bright green and blue feathers&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="  color: rgb(51, 51, 51); line-height: 18px; font-family:Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif;font-size:13px;"&gt;—&lt;/span&gt;exactly like the typical ones at the birdpark, and the other gray one locked in the cage&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="  color: rgb(51, 51, 51); line-height: 18px; font-family:Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif;font-size:13px;"&gt;—&lt;/span&gt;all sulky yet fierce-looking. After some interaction, the pure white playful one talked to me. Okay it was like "Who are you" or "How old are you". Totally evoked a surprise to me. I didn't really catch it cos it was speaking in mandarin hahaha so I answered anyway. I quickly blurted out a "Huh?" before I continued saying "I'm your friend..." "I'm 18..." Yeah almost like an idiot. So I was playing with them&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="  color: rgb(51, 51, 51); line-height: 18px; font-family:Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif;font-size:13px;"&gt;—&lt;/span&gt;to be honest only to the white parrot&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="  color: rgb(51, 51, 51); line-height: 18px; font-family:Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif;font-size:13px;"&gt;—&lt;/span&gt;and how they reminded me of these two green parrots my brother once had. The first one was named Texas and the other was Lucky. Gotta admit, I'm more attracted to Texas because he's more lovable; always whistling cheerfully. I'd love to keep a lot of pets with me; talkative parrots, huge dogs, turtles, fishes. In fact, while I was marveling at those lovely ones, I nearly wanted one immediately. After some consideration, I decided I didn't wanna do any more decisions on impulse... Sometimes I can't even take good care of myself and had to let my boyfriend worry every minute, so what makes me think I can take care of those little lives too? &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/197971195958503036-324083515649831287?l=bugfordinner.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bugfordinner.blogspot.com/feeds/324083515649831287/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=197971195958503036&amp;postID=324083515649831287&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/197971195958503036/posts/default/324083515649831287'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/197971195958503036/posts/default/324083515649831287'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bugfordinner.blogspot.com/2010/07/455am.html' title=''/><author><name>Anthea (born c'92)</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09682674126991182155</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/TSMZT7tN7yI/AAAAAAAACSA/pOgOpTzZMmA/S220/155131_466084780414_619890414_5844925_3617531_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-197971195958503036.post-2898191377795466292</id><published>2010-07-19T22:38:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-07-19T07:44:06.717-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Many times, we feel that we haven't done enough to satisfy people's wants and expectations. My philosophy is that I don't live to impress anyone, so long I do my best in everything. But a lot of people love me, and they have very high expectations of me... I can't possibly let them down all the time, can I? Every single thing we do, we always give our all. Then why do we still make my surrounding close ones upset? Mad, disappointed, you name them all. Yes everyone makes mistakes, no one is perfect, I've heard of these advices. It's like when people are very patient with us, they love us and give us everything, till we hurt them almost everytime—does it even make sense? We just feel that we've not done good enough, we suck. But again, we tried our best. I've been going on and on, ranting about this and using "we" as the subject. Maybe I didn't even realize, this only happens to me and not everyone&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/197971195958503036-2898191377795466292?l=bugfordinner.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bugfordinner.blogspot.com/feeds/2898191377795466292/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=197971195958503036&amp;postID=2898191377795466292&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/197971195958503036/posts/default/2898191377795466292'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/197971195958503036/posts/default/2898191377795466292'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bugfordinner.blogspot.com/2010/07/many-times-we-feel-that-we-havent-done.html' title=''/><author><name>Anthea (born c'92)</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09682674126991182155</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/TSMZT7tN7yI/AAAAAAAACSA/pOgOpTzZMmA/S220/155131_466084780414_619890414_5844925_3617531_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-197971195958503036.post-1653077910444150188</id><published>2010-07-19T22:23:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-07-19T07:59:07.563-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;I have my whole night and tomorrow to study for my economics. Surprisingly, I find more interest in this subject much more than Accounting. I thought the latter was a very fun module, but turns out, I am more motivated to study everyday for my Economics. Just few days ago, R kept persuading me to stop mugging my nose on the books cos I've practically spent few hours straight on it. Besides worrying for my health, I guess that boy is pretty jealous after all; since I wasn't paying 100 percent attention on him and he probably thought I neglected him too much. So, I submitted my essay this noon, before making my way down to Khoo Teck Puat Hospital with R's mom and waited for dearest to get his wisdom tooth removed. It's a newly-built hospital and I was almost imagining myself setting up my own hospital one day. Anthea Tan Hospital, wow. At least it won't be like Tan Ah Bock Hospital or Khoo May Gway or Siao Ting Tong Hospital. Hahaha no offence to anyone. While Roy was setting his GPS, I asked him: "Where is Ku Puat Hospital" and he chuckled before saying "You mean Khoo Teck Puat? it's at Yishun". Upon reaching, I awed at that hospital because it was sooo so huge. Anyway, we waited for him while he was given an injection before cutting open his gums, and we even brought his tooth home. When I looked at that plastic packet, I cringed so bad. He lost a lot of blood and I could see him in pain, though he kept saying he's fine. After a nap, his blood was still gushing out. So he had to eat congee for both lunch and dinner. On a brighter note, he has got like 5 days of Medical Leave. I just want him to rest well and quit worrying about me for at least an hour cos all he asks everyday is like "Have you taken your medicine?", "What are you thinking?", "How are you feeling?", Are you hungry now?"... Before he had his tooth removed, I was even telling him "Hey finally you can shut your mouth up for a day and I get much peace" but you know what? He still talked as much even though he had to bite on the cotton gauze all day, besides swallowing and puking out his endless sea of blood every minute&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;So, on our 6th month, my boyfriend bought an Ipod touch for me. He asked for my preference way months back, actually. And I told him honestly that I'd rather keep a Blackberry than an Iphone. So he bought Itouch for me instead. It was quite a surprise although he always fails to complete the entire process without me suspecting anything. Firstly, he called me from somewhere near my place, asking what kind of gift wrapper's nice. Then, I saw the exact design in his brother's room at night. He actually asked for Calyn’s—his brother’s girlfriend—help in wrapping up the gift. Silly pumpkin, time to learn some wrapping skills! And my six sense told me (as always;) ) that he got me an Itouch. When we got off the car and walked down the circular path down the carpark—which always got me excited—I questioned him a hell lot of times and wanted so bad for him to admit I was right but he tried to make my curiosity go zero level. He lied that he got a top for me, bullshit. Not just that, but he even went "Oh I'm sure you'll like it a lot, I think ah. It's uh white, with sleeves" crap. So on the 16th this month which was also my mom's birthday, he did not just get me that gift, but also bought mommie a phone. Now, my mom can never give another excuse like oh the vibration wasn't good enough or the damn battery's dead again!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language:EN-US"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/197971195958503036-1653077910444150188?l=bugfordinner.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bugfordinner.blogspot.com/feeds/1653077910444150188/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=197971195958503036&amp;postID=1653077910444150188&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/197971195958503036/posts/default/1653077910444150188'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/197971195958503036/posts/default/1653077910444150188'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bugfordinner.blogspot.com/2010/07/i-have-my-whole-night-and-tomorrow-to.html' title=''/><author><name>Anthea (born c'92)</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09682674126991182155</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/TSMZT7tN7yI/AAAAAAAACSA/pOgOpTzZMmA/S220/155131_466084780414_619890414_5844925_3617531_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-197971195958503036.post-3608466551745321708</id><published>2010-07-11T16:09:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-07-12T00:14:29.579-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Things haven't been on the good side. First, it was my health. I don't see a confident, optimistic, carefree girl. What I see is a pessimistic, sad, scared shitless kid. Over-optimism often leads to disappointment. Be it school results; you studying so hard for it yet not getting what you wanted, soccer results; for instance, supporting all out on germany team against spain yet they didn't get the glory. I have a thing for over-confidence now. Not just happened to me a few times, in fact many times- when I have full faith in myself but it didn't go my way. I understand when things are fucked up, we js have got to deal with them. Solving is the only way, besides giving up, which I am on the verge of doing so. I always say I'm okay- which I'm not. I have an aching spine forever, I am tired every moment, I yawn countless times the minute I geddup from bed, I often find breathing difficult, I puke when I take cabs, my tummy is always bloated with air and with this statement, please do not judge me- I'm not a big farter. Anyways, I honestly do not like my health, not that I can rant much bout it cos I'm left with no choice since the start. I didn't choose it, neither did I want it. I never wanted it. At the least in the eyes of others, it is okay to have a curve spine. Yes I heard from them. It is okay to have a crooked nose. But it affects me a hell lot. I can't accept and say I'm good with all that, because I'm not. It's not easy, leave me alone... Occasionally when I'm feeling some sad bones moving in me, sometimes in front of my boyfriend, I'll cry and blame my fate that I got such a flaw. It's just stupid... But again, I could've gotten something worse- because everyone has flaws and inabilities to do things. Today, I am stronger. Every once in a while, I should still keep that little flame of hope burning in me, to keep reminding myself I am fortunate enough&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Second thing, the lovely bones sleeping beside me right now hasn't been in his best too. The last time we cried together was after we watched a sad movie. We thought about Clipper (his late husky). He was unloading all his unhappiness, and began tearing, I thought that was earth shattering enough so I cried along with him. That was few weeks ago, late at night. Yesterday, we felt terrible, again. He looks quite tough, but in actual fact, he does let emotions take control over him. I know a lot bout him. He can cry over a dog he didn't used to love as much. But in retrospect, he felt that he should've spent more time with him. Knowing him, he doesn't cry over the slightest things (duh my boyfriend isn't a soft bean bag) but he cries probably too much when he's overwhelmed by sadness. More than I do. Too much bad things have been coming in and I can literally feel everything is so hard to manage either. Not going into details, but I can conclude that you can trust no one in this world other than your closest love ones. "Me and you, forever against the world x" Hypocrites can all get their asses burn in hell. Don't come to waste our bloody time and act all fake in front of us. It isn't cool. You wanna have two faces behind your mask? Then know your script well before acting, don't make a joke out of yourself&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Sigh, I've still got a wedding dinner to attend tonight. Haven't been to school for days and the whole class is literally mocking at me- for the mosquito joke. Okay I woke up on a Thursday having all energy and determination to go for class yet I got a shock when I got to the mirror. I had 4 huge mosquito bites on my face. Yes it sucked real bad. They were so red I looked like crap. Obviously I couldn't step out like that. It isn't funny. Moving on, I am glad or rather, more than pleased that my new bed's here. I don't wanna talk about the cocked up transportation and arrangement that screwed my Saturday up. Mom got it for me, single bed for $500. Her queen size one wasn't even this lot. I'm loving not just the hard 1000 pieces of springs underneath but also the UK logo at the side of the bed. Nah I'm js lame, I love the UK flag too much till to this extent. She could've jolly well spent this 500 on herself, but she didn't. My mom is not like that, she is the most thrifty person I know- only spending on her family and never herself. Mom is nice, almost great... Luv her. This bed will be good for my back. But yes, I did give her a huge tight hug that made her suffocated for 1 minute. Then I threw a peck on her cheeks and it was all shiny with my lip gloss. Well I'm gonna look forward to tonight's match- Holland vs Spain. Holland will be the one lifting the trophy; just too bad that my all-time fave england lost its chance long ago&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/197971195958503036-3608466551745321708?l=bugfordinner.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bugfordinner.blogspot.com/feeds/3608466551745321708/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=197971195958503036&amp;postID=3608466551745321708&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/197971195958503036/posts/default/3608466551745321708'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/197971195958503036/posts/default/3608466551745321708'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bugfordinner.blogspot.com/2010/07/things-havent-been-on-good-side.html' title=''/><author><name>Anthea (born c'92)</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09682674126991182155</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/TSMZT7tN7yI/AAAAAAAACSA/pOgOpTzZMmA/S220/155131_466084780414_619890414_5844925_3617531_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-197971195958503036.post-1633117989512551253</id><published>2010-07-01T19:01:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-07-01T04:06:32.994-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I love you with all my heart</title><content type='html'>&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;Fishballs everyday at school's cafe &lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;A talkative me in a rainy weather&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Wrote lecturer a note- "Google Chris Brown, since you've not heard of him. You're the fairer version btw"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Smelled boyfriend's endless farts, he was laughing non-stop&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Clad in his enormous top n boxers now. 10 minutes to dinner&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Johnson Baby's smell still lingering on my skin. Like it&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;A lot of pickles in our dry sandwich&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;One day I'll make sure we make it to one of the tallest and most  beautiful towers in paris; Eiffel Tower. We'll gaze into each other's eyes besides enjoying the scenery. You pull strands of my hair over and catch a deep sniff. Lavender smell. I'll blindfold you with my black long scarf and you'll be the blind mouse. You trip, I laugh. I fall, you catch me. I'll speak French to myself till you get annoyed and throw a teddybear hug at me. Feelin' crashed, I'll sit on the ground with a grumpy face and you pull me up. I refuse. You then carry me, piggyback. We get some coffee, I'll have long black without milk/sugar. I'll have it bitter. You ask a question that you've been wanting to know since forever. "Why do you not want sugar in your coffee, you sweet little one?" I smile as I say, "Because you are sweet enough, anything and everything about you make me feel my life is so sweet I'm gonna get toothache or diabetes if I have more of sugar."&lt;br /&gt;The future is beautiful&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/197971195958503036-1633117989512551253?l=bugfordinner.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bugfordinner.blogspot.com/feeds/1633117989512551253/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=197971195958503036&amp;postID=1633117989512551253&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/197971195958503036/posts/default/1633117989512551253'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/197971195958503036/posts/default/1633117989512551253'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bugfordinner.blogspot.com/2010/07/i-love-you-with-all-my-heart.html' title='I love you with all my heart'/><author><name>Anthea (born c'92)</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09682674126991182155</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/TSMZT7tN7yI/AAAAAAAACSA/pOgOpTzZMmA/S220/155131_466084780414_619890414_5844925_3617531_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-197971195958503036.post-4414718500310752591</id><published>2010-06-30T01:01:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-06-29T10:21:39.367-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Welcome July in one day's time. I'm sitting on my bed, crossed legged. Books and magazine cast adrift all around me. There was a half jar of bird nest Mom gave to me. I finished it up in 3 gulps. Scratching this mosquito bite I got since this morning. Wait I can't remember, or was it from last night? I hate mosquito bites. Many times, I'd use my short nails to press against them and form an 'X' or a star. I am lame, leave me alone. Hmm, class was still bearable for the fact that lessons are 10-1pm everyday now. Only that I get so drained after class, all of my energy are literally sucked out of me. I was stuck in a bad jam for 1.5 hours today. Holy shit I entered the expressway at 9am but reached class at exactly 11. Great. I was that close to falling asleep but I decided to wake myself up by starting on this "life threatening pearls from those bubble tea" topic with my lecturer. It was otu of nowhere. Anyway I really dislike those pearls. A few times, I almost choked on them, silly little round ones. Spent a good day killing zombies with my crappy classmates. They are really loud people, they talk much about childish stuff. But in a positive way, these behaviors of them perk me up, and do make me feel younger everyday too. On days like the weekends, or occasionally when I'm simply too lazy to get out of bed, I'll tend to feel more mature with the company of my boyfriend. We do bicker over nonsense, but not till that worse extent though. I wonder if the feeling of being younger is a better thing, or do I really like to be mature? Of course there are some others who tend to be quieter and observe more in class, also those who like to pretend they are Oh So Smart with a pair of geek specs and with all the jargons and stuff. No no it's all redundant. Why do you need to come to class with a fake attitude, smile, accent, behavior - all fake? It's pointless cos we do not care about all that at the end, at least to me. I'll rather pay attention to every speck of dust on the floor than to look out for those who are good at showing off. This is one of my idiosyncrasies though; to watch out for little funny things like pretending my eyes were microscopes and scanning for barely visible dust, or finding ants then assuming my whole body was turning itchy&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/197971195958503036-4414718500310752591?l=bugfordinner.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bugfordinner.blogspot.com/feeds/4414718500310752591/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=197971195958503036&amp;postID=4414718500310752591&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/197971195958503036/posts/default/4414718500310752591'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/197971195958503036/posts/default/4414718500310752591'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bugfordinner.blogspot.com/2010/06/welcome-july-in-one-days-time.html' title=''/><author><name>Anthea (born c'92)</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09682674126991182155</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/TSMZT7tN7yI/AAAAAAAACSA/pOgOpTzZMmA/S220/155131_466084780414_619890414_5844925_3617531_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-197971195958503036.post-168538893849441300</id><published>2010-06-27T15:18:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-06-27T06:58:19.629-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>This weekend was almost great cause I was already done with all assignments and test by Friday. I know I probably could be the last few to catch Karate Kid only now but I simply couldn't find the time to even squeeze in a movie in between my hectic schedule. And my weekend could have been perfect, only if I wasn't so stressed up by some unnecessary stuff- something that I can't help. I never like to talk much bout personal stuff, but heck I just feel like sharing this now. To whoever is reading, at any corner of this world. I've been experiencing this incident since years ago. It got so bad that I was struggling with it almost every night, trust me. I had my own room, till I got scared out of the shit and moved to sleep with the parents. Nope the problem wasn't my room, it's just me. Been months since I last experienced it but on Friday it happened again. I remember bf and I were walking to and fro from some place for supper at around 3am. We chose not to drive, and it's one of the first few times we actually walked for quite a distance. We guessed that some spirit followed me home cos that same night, I got disturbed in my sleep, again. What's more, I was having my menses and my body was even weaker than usual. Everyone else could have woken up the parents, sit up trembling for an hour or leave the place when such things happened to them, but what did I do? I returned back to sleep, that's all. Because I've gotten so numb of it. Sort of like being used to it. I got this sentiment running in me that all the disturbed sleeps are already lined up one after another, waiting to be gotten through. It's not that I am not doing a single thing, but rather, I can't do anything bout it anymore. All I could do is to beg them to go away, and it's become as meaningless as air. I don't wanna go home, I'd rather sacrifice my sleep. This was what I did yesterday, and R accompanied me throughout. One fact I'll live with for my entire life is that he's one person who's willing to go through everything with me. Including giving up his benefits, sacrificing his time and whatnot, he always puts me as his top priority. Last night, we got home at 3am and I realized I left my keys with mom. I felt a tinge of gladness, cos the truth's I didn't wanna go home. So I started frowning, getting all stressed up. I just have to say "Go" and my bf would send me there, anywhere. We talked bout it and decided to make our way to &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Pasir&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Ris&lt;/span&gt; Way, one of the chalets. On the way there, my tears kept flowing uncontrollably. Even my mucus, they kept gushing out like a tap, till I got bad headache again. I felt pleased, at least for that few hours, cos I didn't have to sleep alone. I feel really &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;claustrophobic&lt;/span&gt; whenever it is so. We stayed awake till 8am, and I finally could sleep with a peaceful mind cos the sun was already up and shining. Call me timid, but you wouldn't wanna experience it. Totally believe me. I just wanna add that, baby thanks for being here with me, through everything. You're the only one I trust this much and I can rely on you for anything except nothing, xx&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/197971195958503036-168538893849441300?l=bugfordinner.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bugfordinner.blogspot.com/feeds/168538893849441300/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=197971195958503036&amp;postID=168538893849441300&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/197971195958503036/posts/default/168538893849441300'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/197971195958503036/posts/default/168538893849441300'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bugfordinner.blogspot.com/2010/06/this-weekend-was-almost-great-cause-i.html' title=''/><author><name>Anthea (born c'92)</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09682674126991182155</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/TSMZT7tN7yI/AAAAAAAACSA/pOgOpTzZMmA/S220/155131_466084780414_619890414_5844925_3617531_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-197971195958503036.post-294801878971076754</id><published>2010-06-19T01:07:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-06-18T22:30:54.169-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Yesterday morning, I woke up with triple eyelids and I thought I looked like a freak. I looked so horrible like a douche, the mirror almost cracked. So I skipped school and spent the whole noon in. I did some work, drank tea, had KFC egg tarts, planted endless kisses on Royboy while he slept. And saw Mafia masturbated himself using his fave pillow. My eyes darted from the laptop to him, and knew I was watching so he stopped whatever he was doing, all shy. I pretended and he was back at it again. Afterwards, we bathed him and he smelled nice like flowers. Naughty dog&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Late at night, we were walking when R sensed some weird stink nearby. As curious as always, he searched for all directions and spotted this cat that lay motionless on some wooden planks. We approached it but I didn't get too near cos I've always dislike cats, except for kittens. It had big black spots on its body, and one thing that still makes me cringe even as now I think about it- its tail. It was so bald, like in the cartoons, Tom the cat got electrocuted or something. R assumed it was dying and a sudden sadness swept over him. I was sad, but he probably felt way much worse. I saw tears welled up in his eyes, yes he can be this soft when it comes to such case. So we headed to the nearest 7-11 and got food, with some milk. Upon reaching, the cat suddenly sprawled towards the can of food on R's hand. Just a false alarm, but we didn't go like fucking hell you bloody cat. We just watched it ate throughout&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Wherever we went, we saw snails. It was a cold night, after some downpour. Roy would pick them up and leave on the grass or the corners, so others won't step on them. It has became a habit for him. Afterwards, we chanced upon these two big snails very closely side by side&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;i&gt;R: Eh they're sticked together leh!&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;i&gt;Me: No la.. they're mating.. Come....&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Those old fellows. After a few steps away from them, we spotted a tiny one by the road. Roy picked it up without second thought and left it beside the two big ones, to grant them reunion&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;i&gt;Me: Whey, don't disturb those two&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;i&gt;R: No they're the parents.. this the baby..&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;i&gt;Me: Ya right we helped it to get to the parents faster right..&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;That was yesterday. Everything was good. I didn't throw any temper, and when baby hugged me good night, he said I've been a wonderful girl. I just can't find any other words to describe that feeling- that glow of warmth in my heart&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Today, we sent our car for repair cos there was a crack that has been expanding, ever since this rock fell and left a chip there. It's the first time we took a public transport together- bus. Bf wanted to just take cab but I insisted in taking bus because I want to experience something new with him. So it all turned out good. He just kept laughing throughout. Sometimes I really wonder if I was a clown in my previous life. We bought toys for Mafia. Thereafter, we did mask together and just lay in bed. TGIF&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/197971195958503036-294801878971076754?l=bugfordinner.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bugfordinner.blogspot.com/feeds/294801878971076754/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=197971195958503036&amp;postID=294801878971076754&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/197971195958503036/posts/default/294801878971076754'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/197971195958503036/posts/default/294801878971076754'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bugfordinner.blogspot.com/2010/06/yesterday-morning-i-woke-up-with-triple.html' title=''/><author><name>Anthea (born c'92)</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09682674126991182155</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/TSMZT7tN7yI/AAAAAAAACSA/pOgOpTzZMmA/S220/155131_466084780414_619890414_5844925_3617531_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-197971195958503036.post-6844211173911973734</id><published>2010-06-15T22:38:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-06-15T07:38:27.045-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>This is one of my favourites. Every now n then, I'll still turn to that page and read it over. It really isn't relevant to the story plot, but it's undeniably cute. How humans made their way to earth, if there was a religion of Annaism. "In the beginning, there was nothing at all but the moon and the sun. And the moon wanted to come out during the day, but there was something so much brighter that seemed to fill up all those hours. The moon grew hungry, thinner and thinner, until she was just a slice of herself, and her tips were as sharp as a knife. By accident, because that is the way most things happen,she poked a hole in the night n out spilled a million stars, like a fountain of tears. Horrified, the moon tried to swallow them up. And sometimes this worked, because she got fatter and rounder. But mostly it didn't, because there were just so many. The stars kept coming, until they made the sky so bright the sun got jealous. He invited the stars to his side of world, where it was always bright. What he didn't tell them, though, was that in the daytime, they'd never be seen. So the stupid ones leaped from the sky to the ground, and they froze under the weight of their own foolishness. The moon did her best. She carved each of these blocks of sorrow into a man or a woman. She spent the rest of her time watching out so that her other stars wouldn't fall. She spent the rest of her time holding on to whatever scraps she had left."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/197971195958503036-6844211173911973734?l=bugfordinner.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bugfordinner.blogspot.com/feeds/6844211173911973734/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=197971195958503036&amp;postID=6844211173911973734&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/197971195958503036/posts/default/6844211173911973734'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/197971195958503036/posts/default/6844211173911973734'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bugfordinner.blogspot.com/2010/06/this-is-one-of-my-favourites.html' title=''/><author><name>Anthea (born c'92)</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09682674126991182155</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/TSMZT7tN7yI/AAAAAAAACSA/pOgOpTzZMmA/S220/155131_466084780414_619890414_5844925_3617531_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-197971195958503036.post-1084535491114057296</id><published>2010-06-11T00:27:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-06-10T09:48:15.901-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Like in the fairytale, I used to believe you're the reason why flowers flourish so brightly whenever we walk past the garden and why crickets come out at night to conduct and orchestrate beautiful night time symphonies. Pierce said it's because they're mating but no, to me, you're the reason for it. It's not that I don't agree with this anymore now as I mention. I still do. Just that I wanna be more realistic. Screw the love story of Adam n Eve.  Simply put, you're the reason why I look forward to my everyday. My vision for the future is getting all the more sharper ever since I entrusted my happiness in your hands. We always want to sweep away the sorrows and welcome more happiness in our lives- and for our surrounding people as well, although both sorrows and happiness constitute to a better relationship. Any love isn't perfect just because there is no quarrel or unhappiness involved. People might comment that young relationships are usually very sweet at the beginning- the honeymoon period. I don't deny this, but we do get into tiffs occasionally, too. I still remember there were two times I shouted really loudly my chest hurt so bad I couldn't breathe, and probably the maddest moment I ever encountered throughout my years since a baby. These signs are because: I care for you. Frankly speaking, as compared to the past where your temper was literally tantamount to a bull's, you are so much better now. You're right; no one is totally to blame whenever in a quarrel because it takes two hands to clap. But honestly I feel that out of ten times of unhappiness, six times are due to my unbearable mood and temper. You're the most patient boyfriend to me&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I have never had someone else out of my family treating me this way. Whenever I get quiet or slightly retarded, you know it's either because I'm hungry or tired. You always put me as your first priority; rushing to get food for me, and adjusting the passenger seat to a lying position and insisting I close my eyes till we reach home else I won't get this or that. It is so not for me cos I can't stay still for more than a few minutes. I'd open my eyes a little to glance at you or look out to the scenery but you always caught me. Everyday at home, you'd be like "baby have you bathed? at least take a fast one cos you interact with a lot of germsxxx today", "stop walking here n there, quick come sit here with me, I wash your wounds and apply lotion", "now I want you to do something, promise? go have a nap till 7pm n we go walk walk after dinner!". Mom would always say you treat me like a baby. You'd come over and pat my head, adding that I'd always be one. It's silly, but I love it still. Most of the time, I sing or dance to the flow of the music and I'd catch you smiling sweetly. However clumsy or dumb I might seem, I was still glad I made you happy. Everyday while you drive, I irritate and bombard you with so many questions. I never got tired of it. You remember all my favorite colors, always. White, navy blue, ferrari red, yellow, green, black, gray. You name them all anyway&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I smile a lot, I laugh more, but I cry often too. When I unload all the unhappiness in my heart to you. When I told you this novel still makes me cry and depressed each time I read it. When I tear while you play my late grandpa's fave song. When I cried after my open wounds were knocked onto, or when I couldn't take the pain. When I got so sad over that big white husky that passed away due to suffocation. When I cried a river after getting my bad results. When I feel like sobbing out of a sudden over nothing and I couldn't shake it off. You're always there. Your shoulders were always so nice, your voice's ever so comforting. Happiness is only real when we share it. One moment I could be laughing, and the next I could be all obdurate and expressionless. Face it, it's the mood swing. Hey I'm a girl, of cause it runs in me at times. But you always emphasize that not all things are about me anymore, it already has become for the both of us. Indeed, whenever I get solemn, your mood changes like the tides as well. We each have our own different preferences, but the opposites attract, no? I wouldn't say we are completely two diverse homo sapiens and it's fate that brought us together wtv bullshit, don't start about it. But our differences are evident enough. I hate pork and love fish 'n vege while you don't. I read and write, while you speak a hell lot. I enjoy changing bedsheets while you don't. You like coffee with lots of sugar and thick powder, while I just like pure black and bitter coffee&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I don't like it when you got duties to serve. I know I should be content with what I have; having your company at least 5 hours everyday. Most days we spend 12 hours together, some days 24hours. I love it especially when we get out of Singapore; idyllic life. But whenever you have got duty, I could only occupy myself with reading, writing, or eating. The food I eat don't even taste as nice as when you're around. My mom doesn't behave like herself when you don't appear too. She'd just mop the floor and show a grumpy face to my daddy. But your existence makes a whole new difference. She would laugh all day long, and I'm truly pleased with this fact. People either love us, or hate us. It was never about "that so-so couple". Like Jack, he said we always appear so happy, and so we must last foreverrr~~ he added with "name your son after me". It feels really warm in the heart, to know that people love us being together. If not, it isn't a barrier to our relationship either. The whole world could hate us for all I care, but it's you and me against the world! There are a million other things I could talk about you but let us just leave it for the next time. There are plenty of chances. All I want to tell you is that I love you, and will always do. I miss you, very much&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/197971195958503036-1084535491114057296?l=bugfordinner.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bugfordinner.blogspot.com/feeds/1084535491114057296/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=197971195958503036&amp;postID=1084535491114057296&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/197971195958503036/posts/default/1084535491114057296'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/197971195958503036/posts/default/1084535491114057296'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bugfordinner.blogspot.com/2010/06/like-in-fairytale-i-used-to-believe.html' title=''/><author><name>Anthea (born c'92)</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09682674126991182155</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/TSMZT7tN7yI/AAAAAAAACSA/pOgOpTzZMmA/S220/155131_466084780414_619890414_5844925_3617531_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-197971195958503036.post-524162852670999225</id><published>2010-06-09T01:28:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-06-09T04:05:22.390-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;These two days, I've made use of my free time to do part of the assignment and also cleared up both boyfriend's and my wardrobes. It's really good to clear all the unwanted stuff and this feeling you got at the end of it definitely outweighed the irritated flu that you got from all the dust. I still marvel at the fact that I packed up everything even before the time I set out for myself to be done. In the evening today, we drove this box of clothes to the Salvation Army. On this random note, Regan's 9th birthday celebration at Safra was memorable minus the abrasions I got from this 18.5m tall slide I took with my favourite girl of the day. The bruises made me cry for 2 days; I dread bathing even till now. Not only the pain's torturous when water touch the open wounds but the lotion that boyfriend applies for me every few hours has been killing me slowly. I got bruises on my right elbow, knee, arm, and my entire left hand, ouch. Worst, I kept banging onto them by accident. Serious shit. This may be all too random but, I've been trying hard to recap what I have learnt in school, the nutrients that are needed for wounds to heal faster. I have a strong memory of this teaching but I somewhat cannot remember what are the exact minerals. Hmm iron is one of them. I really dislike scars on my body, though there must be a purpose for them to be there. Say, to remind us of what took place at that moment of that incident? Then, when we think back looking at the scar, we realize what life is all about. Getting up when you've fell. Like a ball, the higher you fall, the harder you bounce back&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Next chapter of my life- change. It hurts when people, whom you thought know you the best, feel that you have changed. It's not that worse until they add on that the past was better and they wish everything could be the same again. Everyone changes; changes are seen at every part of life. Who you've lost along the way, was it really anyone's fault? The thing that's sick and has been plagued in my mind for long is that people don't understand although they kept saying they will feel happy for us so long we are. When you have moved on to another stage in life yet you are happy with whatever that's going on, your "love" ones whom you supposed them to be, don't get the same sentiment as you. You get so tired of explaining about your new life; the changes that are making you enjoy every moment. You feel they don't have to worry about anything at all but they are doing otherwise. Out of ten people who own a blog of their own, probably a majority of them would have had several blogs previously. Two main reasons that made up this changing of their blogs are because 1 they wanna move to a new and better place to seek for peace and change, away from the sufferings or sadness and whatnot. 2 they want to experience a new web page and relating to this case, to experience a new life and try to adapt to it. I don't do surveys but using the common sense, out of these ten bloggers, is there a single one person whereby his or her life hasn't changed at all and all the posts are identical? If so, then that life of his or hers must be goddamn boring to death. True enough, I do feel nostalgic almost every free hour, even when times like I was really busy but these memories still flow in uncontrollably and you can do nothing else except to reminisce these good old times again. I love all the fun times I had, everything that happened in school, out of fucking school. I exceptionally miss those days where everyday is a joy with my favourite girls. But when old friends suddenly appear out of nowhere with a "Hey I miss you. What's up with life now? Let's meet up soon." It's a cliche, isn't it? Too overly familiar and to the extent that I never wanna hear it anymore. Don't ever wish for time to turn back, because it never happens! Sick to hear people complain they hate changes. It is all part and parcel of growing up. If something isn't the same as before, then it's just meant to be. Two ways- try to make things all the same again which luck and effort must be needed, else suck it up. With this, I'm not referring or doing up this post for particularly anyone but it's just one of the nights where I got my thoughts all straightened out and I feel the compelling need to make everything that's on my mind precise enough&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I'm really hurt tonight.. Of other issues as well but not to mention lest I'm gonna need a full page for this post. I don't need anything else to make me feel worse. I've got enough on my plate and I'm almost running out of breath. Breathe in breathe out, out with all the unpleasant air in me&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/197971195958503036-524162852670999225?l=bugfordinner.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bugfordinner.blogspot.com/feeds/524162852670999225/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=197971195958503036&amp;postID=524162852670999225&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/197971195958503036/posts/default/524162852670999225'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/197971195958503036/posts/default/524162852670999225'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bugfordinner.blogspot.com/2010/06/these-two-days-ive-made-use-of-my-free.html' title=''/><author><name>Anthea (born c'92)</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09682674126991182155</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/TSMZT7tN7yI/AAAAAAAACSA/pOgOpTzZMmA/S220/155131_466084780414_619890414_5844925_3617531_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-197971195958503036.post-29230833460228171</id><published>2010-06-04T16:02:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-06-04T03:12:51.843-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I'm all alone at home, with all the lights out other than this laptop's screen lighting to the maximum. I like to strain my eyes under strong lighting, to make them painful till I rub and leave them all red; boyfriend's gonna scold me after reading this. Lying under the warm blanket in this cold lazy weather, my stomach's feeling better. I regretted having a grande coffee with an empty stomach in class. Ouch, it even hurts to talk about it now. My stomach was having such terrible reactions which I don't wish to know how those things inside work. Anyway, while making my way home from school, I felt like throwing up. It's just sick, those fainting spells and whatnot. I still remember the sight whereby my mom threw up right in front of me cos she had too much tea on an empty stomach. Hmm never do that again. I'll really need to wake up earlier to have some time for breakfast. I'm so exhausted now, but I can't sleep with wet hair. Too much regulations, huh? I just took a bath and usually I don't when it rains. Haha I am this lazy. Things I love about rainy days and cold weathers; cuddles in bed under the thick warm blanket, little sniffs and sneezes, soft music on repeat, the excuse of wearing big Macbeth sneakers to school because slippers make me unable to balance myself even though  all the salesperson claimed it's good friction. Heard enough of bullshit&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I have a really bad memory since for ever. It's not like I can't remember who my kindergarten crush was, what shoe size I wore when I was 5, or anything like that. But I can't even remember what happened in that movie I caught last week no matter how hard I try to crack my head, always. Worst of all, I can't recall what I did and where'd I go yesterday, or the day before. Pretty bad isn't it? In the eyes of a stereotypical teen, I can't really imagine how I behaved like when I was small until when someone tells me about it; those funny times. My mama told us this that cracked all of us up. Whenever my favourite sister sleeps in, who's my nanny's daughter, and whom is now a mother herself, I'll be really grumpy cos I always liked her to take me to the toilet. Only her. Each time I tried to shake her awake, she would say alright alright 5 minutes more.. till I got really impatient and a tad sad. Then I would knock my head against the concrete floor repeatedly, until she woke up in shock and pacify me quickly. This was roughly how I felt and what took place, to my best recall. Since young, I'm more of a quiet person unless excited or curious whereby I'll talk a lot and bombard a thousand questions. When I'm pissed I'll just keep silent yet show a grumpy face till some time later my frown will slowly cease while a smile starts to form across my face. It hasn't really hit me that obvious but till recently, my boyfriend, my nanny who watched me grow, including my close brother said this of me. They know me exceptionally well, even before I could realize this trait in me. Back to the topic, I do have poor memory but I certainly don't throw memories away; those that are of values and are meaningful to me. Often, I'll reminisce on them. While doing my business in the cubicle, while on the bus, before bedtime. I'll cry, I'll smile. I have so many memories. Wait, do I use 'much' or 'many' in this term? Theoretically, those are so much that they can't be counted. But sometimes, I like to think of things in a different way. Hey I can compile all my memories and count them one by one. I have lots of time, why not? Then in this case, it will be expressed as 'many'. No? Can someone with great wisdom please enlighten me with your perception? It'll be really nice&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/197971195958503036-29230833460228171?l=bugfordinner.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bugfordinner.blogspot.com/feeds/29230833460228171/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=197971195958503036&amp;postID=29230833460228171&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/197971195958503036/posts/default/29230833460228171'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/197971195958503036/posts/default/29230833460228171'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bugfordinner.blogspot.com/2010/06/im-all-alone-at-home-with-all-lights.html' title=''/><author><name>Anthea (born c'92)</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09682674126991182155</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/TSMZT7tN7yI/AAAAAAAACSA/pOgOpTzZMmA/S220/155131_466084780414_619890414_5844925_3617531_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-197971195958503036.post-4485028574876606182</id><published>2010-06-02T01:13:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-06-04T03:16:18.180-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Had a full week away from school cause there were heavy assignments to be completed. It was insanely productive; the entire seven days were very tight and I had a lot on my plate, yet I enjoyed every moment of it. On Tuesday, Love and I hit the Sentosa. We weren't there to flash our butts under the scorching sun but we had fun at the Underwater World. The weather was crazy; we were perspiring a whole gallon of sweat while watching the lovely dolphins performed stunts. I mean literally. It was a great show, I love those little ones. But N-O, No to that weather. Pretty glad I made boyfriend truly happy that day even though we didn't hit Yello Jello as planned. We were kinda exhausted towards the end of the day. Wednesday was spent baking at home for Momsie's colleagues and Aarone's camp mates. The ingredients n stuff already burnt a hole in our pocket. Baking can be real fun but I got sick when the next day I had to stand by the oven to keep watch for  hours again. It was all meant as door gifts for the birthday celebration the following Friday evening. I missed school because there was a whole lot of chocolate and peanut cookies to produce, plus I couldn't accept the fact that it was already Thursday. I didn't even have time to check my organizer for that week cos the days zoomed by really fast! I felt rather lousy about that. Eventually, I really did enjoy my week, and especially on the birthday celebration day itself. Reason's mainly cos I love the company and awesome time spent with them. Wii made it all the more great. My whole weekend was so burnt-out from the assignments either,  even on Sunday night where I had to mug my nose in front of the laptop instead of snuggling in bed, ready for next day's lesson. Besides cracking my head for all that research and never-ending essays, I did take a breather in between by going for a walk with little Mafia n Regan boy. Which thereafter we headed for a Thai dinner with R's family, making it perfect with my Gramma's birthday dinner with my paternal side the next night. To sum it up, it was a drop-dead great week spent plus I thought I managed my time moderately well. We totally did not procrastinate and accomplished whatever we had been meaning to do. &lt;u&gt;&lt;a href="http://multiply.com/slideshow/suzywire:photos:6"&gt;Freeze the happy moments&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/197971195958503036-4485028574876606182?l=bugfordinner.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bugfordinner.blogspot.com/feeds/4485028574876606182/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=197971195958503036&amp;postID=4485028574876606182&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/197971195958503036/posts/default/4485028574876606182'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/197971195958503036/posts/default/4485028574876606182'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bugfordinner.blogspot.com/2010/06/had-full-week-away-from-school-cause.html' title=''/><author><name>Anthea (born c'92)</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09682674126991182155</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/TSMZT7tN7yI/AAAAAAAACSA/pOgOpTzZMmA/S220/155131_466084780414_619890414_5844925_3617531_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-197971195958503036.post-6342381604184260323</id><published>2010-05-23T13:54:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-05-23T01:10:05.806-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>When you love someone, you put his needs before your own. I'm 18, surely got a lot more to experience in love. But I've been through what's worth remembering for. When he wants you to stop wearing low-cut tops unless you're past 20 plus year old, and big enough to take care of yourself. Which is no doubt for your own good. You accept it anyway. No matter how inconceivable his needs are, you still want to do it for him, so long it makes him any happier. There may be times when you feel very pissed with him you felt like ripping him apart, at the end you snuggle up beside him and listen to his deep breathings, still. Even when you refused to give in cos you're feeling stubborn, you will still let him hold you tight after he apologized, no? It seems that each time I'm out, wherever I go without you, a part of me is missing. The stomach is filled, the new clothes are purchased, but there is still a sense of discontentment. Why? Although I am a person who enjoys shopping with no company, likes running errands alone. Or I can be seen writing at Starbucks all by myself, but I get this importunate urge to see you asap. I miss you with every beat of my heart. I think of you almost everything I do, everywhere I go. It's very rare for me to stop thinking for a sec, but it's totally impossible for me to stop missing you. I miss you. I miss you even when you're around, by my side. This is true...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yesterday was a day without any worries at all. I didn't have to worry when the lecturer would stop talking and remind us to not fool around. Neither did I have to care about when is the submission date of my assignments, and whether I have brought my pen to class. I don't use blue ink pens. It was a breathtaking day with the girls. In the early noon, I was late for my hair appointment. Late as usual. Because it was pouring. No, what a lousy excuse. Bought helium balloons out of no reason, laughed over almost everything and nothing. Then, got so lethargic and out of energy we sat down over at a side while noticing people were giving us stares. After a while, we dummies happened to realize what went wrong.The Man Hunt event was going on soon, and what? People must be assuming we silly young girls were anticipating. BUT HELL NO. And it was nice renting this chamber room to watch a french cooking movie. Although we left earlier cos we were so famished throughout the movie. Awesome pizza, sweet onions, toasted butter (even though I hated butter) Yum.  Bon appetit! &lt;a href="http://multiply.com/slideshow/suzywire:photos:3"&gt;&lt;u&gt;Pictures we took&lt;/u&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Just the day before yesterday, I was alone at the mall. And I spotted this weird looking guy before me. For whatever reason he was doing at the ladies' corner, I wasn't sure but he's indeed a pervert. The walking space between us was so huge but he suddenly came barging into me and brushed his elbow very aggressively on my breast. I let out a "TSK" at him before observing his later actions. It was obvious he was trying to get advantage of girls. I caught up with him and grabbed him really hard. "You don't do this anymore" while stares started to follow. He replied hastily "What I do..." and quickly walked off before I could even send a slap across his face. Downright deviant. It's not the first time I came across such incident, and I'm not kicking up a fuss. But hey, if someone were to get touched in some crowded areas or in the club then blame it on the luck or herself because she chose to be there where it occurred.  I was at the mall, doing my own shopping and I didn't even expect the next second someone was gnna touch me although I'm entitled to my human right as well. Indeed mortifying. Brings me to my point to all girls out there. If there were to be such cases in future, you can kick his groin real hard or break his dirty hand, but never to let them go their way&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/197971195958503036-6342381604184260323?l=bugfordinner.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bugfordinner.blogspot.com/feeds/6342381604184260323/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=197971195958503036&amp;postID=6342381604184260323&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/197971195958503036/posts/default/6342381604184260323'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/197971195958503036/posts/default/6342381604184260323'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bugfordinner.blogspot.com/2010/05/blog-post_20.html' title=''/><author><name>Anthea (born c'92)</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09682674126991182155</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/TSMZT7tN7yI/AAAAAAAACSA/pOgOpTzZMmA/S220/155131_466084780414_619890414_5844925_3617531_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-197971195958503036.post-1977276959389891485</id><published>2010-05-19T00:09:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-05-18T09:11:09.316-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I was very sleepy last night, after a long day at school. Overrun with lethargy, with my eyes barely wide opened but felt the compelling need to write, I grabbed a pen and 3 pieces of paper. My hair was matted, I pushed them behind my ears. I wrote, I sniff, I squint my eyes. I wrote, fingernails down to the quick. I wrote and wrote. Today, I scribbled notes to no one during econs lesson. Things are speeding up. So fast I am choking. No, it's  not good. I was impatient, I wanted it fast. But now, it all comes at a go I can't take it. Watching the other cars go past, the striking lights at the expressway tunnel, the dead bushes, my tears couldn't stop flowing. They were so bitter. I ever once asked, "Why do our tears taste bitter?" You told me if we cry out of happiness, they would taste sweet. Else, they would be bitter 'cause we are sad. The heart is sad. As I stare out of the window, you going at a fast speed, I didn't turn to look at you at all. You touched my hand, moved to my head, down to my shoulder, trying to comfort me. I didn't move an inch, but sat there so motionless. I was tasting my bitter tears. I don't really wanna rant anymore. All the words that I've been wanting to say, that kept coming in, are so much they can be written out like a poetry. Nobody really wanna grumble anymore. Because no one else listens&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Except you.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/197971195958503036-1977276959389891485?l=bugfordinner.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bugfordinner.blogspot.com/feeds/1977276959389891485/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=197971195958503036&amp;postID=1977276959389891485&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/197971195958503036/posts/default/1977276959389891485'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/197971195958503036/posts/default/1977276959389891485'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bugfordinner.blogspot.com/2010/05/i-was-very-sleepy-last-night-after-long.html' title=''/><author><name>Anthea (born c'92)</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09682674126991182155</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/TSMZT7tN7yI/AAAAAAAACSA/pOgOpTzZMmA/S220/155131_466084780414_619890414_5844925_3617531_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-197971195958503036.post-659899089263755962</id><published>2010-05-16T23:40:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-05-16T09:27:10.027-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Yesterday, I was pointing to this jam on the magazine with a natural pout and puffy red eyes. Today, we drove down to dempsey rd to get it. It was rather a surprise though I don't really enjoy having surprises very much. Watched Robin Hood and had Wendy's burger; been wanting to try it together since the very first time we started talking. It was nice sitting in a private corner of the fast food restaurant cos I know he prefers that. And secretly, me as well. With warm burger and crunchy cabbage that I munched on so loudly to get his attention. He said, "If we had wendy's burger on our first date, and you munched on the cabbage this way, I'd be attracted to you even more". It was pouring outside, but with the warm burger, great company, raindrops that were falling upon the tinted glass; I swear I could sit there for weeks. No kid'. We were driving home when I saw streaks of lightning. Was always afraid of that, but somewhat not thunders. I was sitting up so straight and not relaxing any muscles or parts of my body which were so tensed they were literally as stiff as wooden plank. I asked for the permission to open up the big envelope boyfriend gave it to me and it was a new novel inside (grins) Which other guy would get all my favourite books, even faster than I do? &lt;u&gt;&lt;a style="font-family: times new roman;" href="http://multiply.com/slideshow/suzywire:photos:1/5"&gt;Pix of the day&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/197971195958503036-659899089263755962?l=bugfordinner.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bugfordinner.blogspot.com/feeds/659899089263755962/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=197971195958503036&amp;postID=659899089263755962&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/197971195958503036/posts/default/659899089263755962'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/197971195958503036/posts/default/659899089263755962'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bugfordinner.blogspot.com/2010/05/yesterday-i-was-pointing-to-this-jam-on.html' title=''/><author><name>Anthea (born c'92)</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09682674126991182155</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/TSMZT7tN7yI/AAAAAAAACSA/pOgOpTzZMmA/S220/155131_466084780414_619890414_5844925_3617531_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-197971195958503036.post-7060670136373360211</id><published>2010-05-15T20:00:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-05-15T05:05:41.096-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I woke up early today. Lay in bed, read half of the book and had a glass of water. I got up from bed a while later to gulp down a cup of tap water filled to its brim, again. I didn't have the appetite. For the entire day, I had a yogurt. It tasted real bad, strawberry. You didn't have anything as well, and in the evening, you vomited some white substance. I'm guessing it's the gastric juice. We weren't feeling well, till when the sun set, I cried my heart out when you idiot, tickled the soles of my feet. I had to kick your face. I got mad I started giving punches, those funny repeating hits that you missed so much. You sat by my right, when I turned my body to the left. You came over but I quickly shifted to the right. I love playing with you, even when I'm really angry. You pulled me close so tight, I gave up upon struggling because it was impossible. You are like a bull, using the last ounce of energy to hold onto me even though you haven't had anything filled in your stomach. Every details of it, so vivid. It still makes me cringe up my toes. I am not scared of you. I am not scared of your tickles, they are nothing. I shall get even with you tomorrow&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We drift by through time and space everyday, seamlessly. As cliche as it sounds, everybody has been saying "jeez how scary time flies". We don't have anywhere to be at but we have a million things to do. No matter how many things we cross off the list, we don't even make a dent. This week, we will get our SLR fixed. His name is Simeon. Next month, I will attend lessons everyday. I will go swimming and cycling, which are what I sucked at the most. I will make R's daddy happy because he has been in the blues for as long as my nails have been trying to grow. I want to travel abroad, be it china or any third-world country, I want to see things. It's because I'm young. "Young" used to be all I knew. I'm just 18, but I can see the future more clearly now. Studies is important. Work is important. But both hold nothing over life experience.&lt;br /&gt;Sweetheart, today once again, you promised me - "Erase &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Procrastination&lt;/span&gt; off my vocab. Let's make things happen"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/197971195958503036-7060670136373360211?l=bugfordinner.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bugfordinner.blogspot.com/feeds/7060670136373360211/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=197971195958503036&amp;postID=7060670136373360211&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/197971195958503036/posts/default/7060670136373360211'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/197971195958503036/posts/default/7060670136373360211'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bugfordinner.blogspot.com/2010/05/i-woke-up-early-today.html' title=''/><author><name>Anthea (born c'92)</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09682674126991182155</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/TSMZT7tN7yI/AAAAAAAACSA/pOgOpTzZMmA/S220/155131_466084780414_619890414_5844925_3617531_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-197971195958503036.post-687200063376729144</id><published>2010-05-15T01:45:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-05-14T09:45:10.129-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/S-19cKAF0SI/AAAAAAAACM8/iHOvJSKaILA/s1600/IMG_1996.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/S-19cKAF0SI/AAAAAAAACM8/iHOvJSKaILA/s400/IMG_1996.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5471167044999565602" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;What we should do is quick rise up early in the morning before the birds, before the sun and while the dew's still settling, while there's still a dark early dusky haze over the field behind your house, and we should drive to the beach. We should drive to the beach and say our waking morning prayers together and lay out a blanket on the sand while the world's still dark and blue and full of that calm coolness, we should sit on the blanket and lean against each other and wait for the sun to rise over the atlantic. When it's just barely completely over the horizon you should kiss my forehead and we should quick gather up the blanket and whatever books we may have brought with us, quick take a picture of ourselves and the sunrise, the beach and the seagulls we have befriended, run back to the white car, drive to the airport and board a plane for the opposite coast. We should be ridiculous for the full trip across the country, speaking only in foreign accents and tickling each other but pretending we didn’t, asking strange questions to our fellow passengers and hopefully befriending the stewardesses. When we arrive we should ask everyone for directions to the nearest beach and get a taxi and go there, we should bring with us leftover airplane snacks and perhaps stop at a supermarket for cheese and crackers so that we do not go hungry. Oh you like peanut waffles. We should get to the beach and over-tip the taxi driver and run footraces up and down the sand, run into the ocean with our arms above our heads because we are free, fall into each others arms, into the sand, sit on our same blanket and eat and lean against each other and watch the sunset over the pacific. We should watch the sunset and fall asleep on the beach tangled in a mess of arms and legs and blanket and sand. We should, Royboy.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/197971195958503036-687200063376729144?l=bugfordinner.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bugfordinner.blogspot.com/feeds/687200063376729144/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=197971195958503036&amp;postID=687200063376729144&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/197971195958503036/posts/default/687200063376729144'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/197971195958503036/posts/default/687200063376729144'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bugfordinner.blogspot.com/2010/05/what-we-should-do-is-quick-rise-up.html' title=''/><author><name>Anthea (born c'92)</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09682674126991182155</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/TSMZT7tN7yI/AAAAAAAACSA/pOgOpTzZMmA/S220/155131_466084780414_619890414_5844925_3617531_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/S-19cKAF0SI/AAAAAAAACM8/iHOvJSKaILA/s72-c/IMG_1996.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-197971195958503036.post-8591629119574668232</id><published>2010-05-13T00:14:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-05-16T09:32:05.573-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Roy: I'm not kidding by saying this, "I'm happy if you're happy. Even when I am sad, and I think of the funny things you do, I'll smile on my face and deep in my heart".&lt;br /&gt;Anthea: Neither am I kidding when I say, "You are my medicine to all illnesses, only antidote to happiness, the right pair of shoes that fits perfectly n won't cause me blisters even in the long run" Je vous aime et je veux dépenser ma vie entière avec vous &lt;u&gt;&lt;a href="http://multiply.com/slideshow/suzywire:photos:2"&gt;Photos&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/197971195958503036-8591629119574668232?l=bugfordinner.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bugfordinner.blogspot.com/feeds/8591629119574668232/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=197971195958503036&amp;postID=8591629119574668232&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/197971195958503036/posts/default/8591629119574668232'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/197971195958503036/posts/default/8591629119574668232'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bugfordinner.blogspot.com/2010/05/blog-post_12.html' title=''/><author><name>Anthea (born c'92)</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09682674126991182155</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/TSMZT7tN7yI/AAAAAAAACSA/pOgOpTzZMmA/S220/155131_466084780414_619890414_5844925_3617531_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-197971195958503036.post-4548223111267120450</id><published>2010-05-11T00:30:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-05-10T09:30:19.526-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/S-gy5xQyvwI/AAAAAAAACLk/3OU2Z6SDPzA/s1600/artform6.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 149px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/S-gy5xQyvwI/AAAAAAAACLk/3OU2Z6SDPzA/s400/artform6.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5469677715499171586" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/S-gyIMgbAAI/AAAAAAAACK0/O0vIFvWNEH0/s1600/artform1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 269px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/S-gyIMgbAAI/AAAAAAAACK0/O0vIFvWNEH0/s400/artform1.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5469676863819022338" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/S-gyJXB5gTI/AAAAAAAACLE/ORahw6oIkzs/s1600/artform3.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 301px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/S-gyJXB5gTI/AAAAAAAACLE/ORahw6oIkzs/s400/artform3.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5469676883823657266" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/S-gyKF2RfiI/AAAAAAAACLU/RHT7OJKS0vw/s1600/artform5.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 289px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/S-gyKF2RfiI/AAAAAAAACLU/RHT7OJKS0vw/s400/artform5.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5469676896391364130" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/S-gyIhOmr3I/AAAAAAAACK8/0BYv7SYUEQw/s1600/artform2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/S-gyIhOmr3I/AAAAAAAACK8/0BYv7SYUEQw/s400/artform2.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5469676869381435250" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/S-gyJ_hliLI/AAAAAAAACLM/Ya60RAM6yaU/s1600/artform4.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 218px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/S-gyJ_hliLI/AAAAAAAACLM/Ya60RAM6yaU/s400/artform4.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5469676894693984434" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;The Footwear concepts of Andreia Chaves&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/197971195958503036-4548223111267120450?l=bugfordinner.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bugfordinner.blogspot.com/feeds/4548223111267120450/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=197971195958503036&amp;postID=4548223111267120450&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/197971195958503036/posts/default/4548223111267120450'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/197971195958503036/posts/default/4548223111267120450'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bugfordinner.blogspot.com/2010/05/blog-post.html' title=''/><author><name>Anthea (born c'92)</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09682674126991182155</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/TSMZT7tN7yI/AAAAAAAACSA/pOgOpTzZMmA/S220/155131_466084780414_619890414_5844925_3617531_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/S-gy5xQyvwI/AAAAAAAACLk/3OU2Z6SDPzA/s72-c/artform6.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-197971195958503036.post-1170999117979584307</id><published>2010-05-09T23:05:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-05-09T08:20:52.434-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Today I called Mama. The mama that I haven't met for 3 years or more. She said my voice's completely different. No, my voice has always been the same, only today. I've been sad for like what, 8 hours? She has watched me grow, and she really understands me. Although I rarely  speak when I was younger, but when I do my voice was always cheerful. Oh well, let us see. Today, I didn't mean to talk to her in that sad tone. I didn't mean to cry over that very expensive dinner with all my family n to dampen that happy atmosphere because I accidentally squashed a bug. I didn't mean to give R a cold shoulder the whole evening, till he just left. Didn't mean to TSK so much either. My second brother, whom I was so close with since I started sharing a bedroom with him, said this that made me think he's the next person who comprehends my heart. He said whenever I cried n he asked what's wrong, I wanted so badly to answer but I remained silent. I'd just show a grumpy face but no fret, gimme 1/2 an hour n I'd talk. Om yes, this is my trait. It's true my family, and my boyfriend understand me the most in this world. But at times, none existing human actually can guess what's on my mind. Even to myself, I think I'm the hardest person to figure out. I just want to apologize if I did make y'all worry, not just tonight. I have my assignment due tomorrow but I haven't started on a single question. My room desk is a mess n I have been swearing since forever to clear it off because I always can't find my comb n pins. It's just a sty of random funny things thrown about in the midst of chaos. I want a clean n tidy desk but I don't know if this will really happen. I am somehow cash tight, too many may babies. That's really all, every letter is a struggle to grasp&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/S-bSMxeQmoI/AAAAAAAACKk/-LmpQu-LZvg/s1600/tumblr.png"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 225px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/S-bSMxeQmoI/AAAAAAAACKk/-LmpQu-LZvg/s400/tumblr.png" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5469289914368563842" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/197971195958503036-1170999117979584307?l=bugfordinner.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bugfordinner.blogspot.com/feeds/1170999117979584307/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=197971195958503036&amp;postID=1170999117979584307&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/197971195958503036/posts/default/1170999117979584307'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/197971195958503036/posts/default/1170999117979584307'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bugfordinner.blogspot.com/2010/05/today-i-called-mama.html' title=''/><author><name>Anthea (born c'92)</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09682674126991182155</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/TSMZT7tN7yI/AAAAAAAACSA/pOgOpTzZMmA/S220/155131_466084780414_619890414_5844925_3617531_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/S-bSMxeQmoI/AAAAAAAACKk/-LmpQu-LZvg/s72-c/tumblr.png' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-197971195958503036.post-4165988836666470902</id><published>2010-05-03T22:15:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-05-03T20:03:57.372-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Had a very good weekend. Saturday was spent at Henderson Waves with all the relatives. Nicole n I went in our maxi dresses under the scorching sun, (after much of her persuasion) it was indeed a well-spent afternoon. Sunday,,,,hmm R and I felt a sudden urge to sweat everything out so we headed to Dairy Farm Nature Park. We jogged for a good 2 hours. Exercising can be real fun if you have the right company, scenery n such. We did not just pant n dragged our feet for that 2 hours but we were so hyper like crazy munkees. We xplored this deserted n remote little house R brought me to, we posed on the tall rocks like we're meditating n enjoying yoga, n I remember while we were doing the last run, I almost jumped on R cos there was this clouded monitor lizard just a step before my feet. I nearly stepped on it but I was so scared that my reaction was fast enough to dodge it haha. I can go on n on about this, so at night we had a little birthday celebration for Jack. Both of us agreed that this weekend was probably one of the nicest so far. The next exciting moment coming up would be our 4th monthsary followed by love's big 21st. I'll be the organizer for both big days! Make everything memorable, peace out&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/S97aMPKN39I/AAAAAAAACKU/kTeDk0PMMN4/s1600/DSC01628.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 268px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/S97aMPKN39I/AAAAAAAACKU/kTeDk0PMMN4/s400/DSC01628.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5467046901437030354" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/S97bz10J8OI/AAAAAAAACKc/DSwz4qZ62gY/s1600/DSC01636.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/S97bz10J8OI/AAAAAAAACKc/DSwz4qZ62gY/s400/DSC01636.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5467048681340006626" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/S97aLIOu-RI/AAAAAAAACJ8/eR47gUypF8Q/s1600/DSC01634.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/S97aLIOu-RI/AAAAAAAACJ8/eR47gUypF8Q/s400/DSC01634.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5467046882397059346" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/S97aLvd-RhI/AAAAAAAACKE/esfhymijO5o/s1600/DSC01629-T.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/S97aLvd-RhI/AAAAAAAACKE/esfhymijO5o/s400/DSC01629-T.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5467046892929959442" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/S97aL7DlJwI/AAAAAAAACKM/Yhk7YTe4GLM/s1600/DSC01632.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/S97aL7DlJwI/AAAAAAAACKM/Yhk7YTe4GLM/s400/DSC01632.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5467046896040486658" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/197971195958503036-4165988836666470902?l=bugfordinner.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bugfordinner.blogspot.com/feeds/4165988836666470902/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=197971195958503036&amp;postID=4165988836666470902&amp;isPopup=true' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/197971195958503036/posts/default/4165988836666470902'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/197971195958503036/posts/default/4165988836666470902'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bugfordinner.blogspot.com/2010/05/had-very-good-weekend_03.html' title=''/><author><name>Anthea (born c'92)</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09682674126991182155</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/TSMZT7tN7yI/AAAAAAAACSA/pOgOpTzZMmA/S220/155131_466084780414_619890414_5844925_3617531_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/S97aMPKN39I/AAAAAAAACKU/kTeDk0PMMN4/s72-c/DSC01628.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-197971195958503036.post-5784720927019541934</id><published>2010-04-26T12:43:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-04-25T21:43:56.708-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I got so pisssssed when the meant-to-be secret was divulged. Fair enough I didn't clearly tell anyone it was a secret but it's obvious enough ain't it? The secret that I wanted to surprise R to all smiles. The secret that I have been working on for so many days, so many trips, so much effort. It wasn't a secret anymore. I got in a fit of rage, I cried. I told R my temper was hardwired to my tear ducts. I cry very fast when I'm really angry. He took me by the hand n we went to the car. He unwind the windows while blasting our fave song, going at the fastest speed. The wind totally raped my hair, adrenaline rose. I was in beans. We stopped by our fave place to watch Tom 'n Jerry, enjoying the silent night breeze while stray dogs huddled up beside our car.&lt;br /&gt;Thank God I have you&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/197971195958503036-5784720927019541934?l=bugfordinner.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bugfordinner.blogspot.com/feeds/5784720927019541934/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=197971195958503036&amp;postID=5784720927019541934&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/197971195958503036/posts/default/5784720927019541934'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/197971195958503036/posts/default/5784720927019541934'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bugfordinner.blogspot.com/2010/04/i-got-so-pisssssed-when-meant-to-be.html' title=''/><author><name>Anthea (born c'92)</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09682674126991182155</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/TSMZT7tN7yI/AAAAAAAACSA/pOgOpTzZMmA/S220/155131_466084780414_619890414_5844925_3617531_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-197971195958503036.post-2810243812009662790</id><published>2010-04-19T12:02:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-04-18T21:03:02.545-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;a style="font-family: courier new;" href="http://www.sacbee.com/static/newsroom/swf/april07/mother/"&gt;A Mother's Journey&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Left me pondering in sad thoughts&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Gnna go run some errands now.......&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/197971195958503036-2810243812009662790?l=bugfordinner.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bugfordinner.blogspot.com/feeds/2810243812009662790/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=197971195958503036&amp;postID=2810243812009662790&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/197971195958503036/posts/default/2810243812009662790'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/197971195958503036/posts/default/2810243812009662790'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bugfordinner.blogspot.com/2010/04/mothers-journey-left-me-pondering-in.html' title=''/><author><name>Anthea (born c'92)</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09682674126991182155</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/TSMZT7tN7yI/AAAAAAAACSA/pOgOpTzZMmA/S220/155131_466084780414_619890414_5844925_3617531_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-197971195958503036.post-8630445113535457559</id><published>2010-04-18T15:13:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-04-18T00:26:48.066-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;friday was well-spent with my one n only sweetheart. took an hour to prepare everything before setting off to botanical. man, i had my model summer along but guess what? mr.alltimesweet got me l.a. candy although he was so busy in the morning x. the sky was really dark n threatened rain whilst we were on the road, but we kept the optimistic mindset strong in us. no matter what, we must make our picnic happen. so famished after the whole noon without food, i read my book after binging so much. left the place at 7 cos it was really dark already, n headed off to a car meet-up. it was truly a great time. love u, toodles&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/S8qv_5FXrRI/AAAAAAAACJU/I3MYKgBHKFI/s1600/DSC06098.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/S8qv_5FXrRI/AAAAAAAACJU/I3MYKgBHKFI/s400/DSC06098.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5461371010330111250" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;he treats me with respect he says he loves me all the time&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/S8qwjWK2FxI/AAAAAAAACJc/5bWAoOEdEdI/s1600/DSC06133.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/S8qwjWK2FxI/AAAAAAAACJc/5bWAoOEdEdI/s400/DSC06133.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5461371619433125650" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;he calls me fifteen times a day he likes to make sure that i'm fine&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/S8qwsljt1RI/AAAAAAAACJk/2ev9DZ9UK1o/s1600/DSC06066.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/S8qwsljt1RI/AAAAAAAACJk/2ev9DZ9UK1o/s400/DSC06066.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5461371778182796562" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;y'know i've never met a man who's made me feel quite so secure&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/S8qv-xZ2S6I/AAAAAAAACJE/ZSV6rNZqWho/s1600/DSC06076-T.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 299px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/S8qv-xZ2S6I/AAAAAAAACJE/ZSV6rNZqWho/s400/DSC06076-T.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5461370991088651170" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;he's not like all them other boys they're all so dumb and immature&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/S8qv_SMUgBI/AAAAAAAACJM/NKMSeMPl8O4/s1600/DSC06216.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/S8qv_SMUgBI/AAAAAAAACJM/NKMSeMPl8O4/s400/DSC06216.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5461370999890280466" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/197971195958503036-8630445113535457559?l=bugfordinner.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bugfordinner.blogspot.com/feeds/8630445113535457559/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=197971195958503036&amp;postID=8630445113535457559&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/197971195958503036/posts/default/8630445113535457559'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/197971195958503036/posts/default/8630445113535457559'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bugfordinner.blogspot.com/2010/04/friday-was-well-spent-with-my-one-n.html' title=''/><author><name>Anthea (born c'92)</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09682674126991182155</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/TSMZT7tN7yI/AAAAAAAACSA/pOgOpTzZMmA/S220/155131_466084780414_619890414_5844925_3617531_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/S8qv_5FXrRI/AAAAAAAACJU/I3MYKgBHKFI/s72-c/DSC06098.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-197971195958503036.post-4747615017536359655</id><published>2010-04-18T06:00:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2010-04-18T06:15:57.429-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>random facts about me:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;don't like it when guys leave their shavers lying around in wet areas. always gets on my nerves when i see my brother's shaver all wet in the bathroom. i would clean it dry anyway cos i really hate to see rusted metals. r, do you have this habit? if so, imma bash you up if i see it&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;when i stare at a word for too long, it seems like i've spelt it wrongly&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;dislike it when i always lose my hair pins. i can just mingle my hair with pins now, but lose all of em the next second. no matter how much i bought, i still lost all of em anyway&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/197971195958503036-4747615017536359655?l=bugfordinner.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bugfordinner.blogspot.com/feeds/4747615017536359655/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=197971195958503036&amp;postID=4747615017536359655&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/197971195958503036/posts/default/4747615017536359655'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/197971195958503036/posts/default/4747615017536359655'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bugfordinner.blogspot.com/2010/04/random-facts-about-me-dont-like-it-when.html' title=''/><author><name>Anthea (born c'92)</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09682674126991182155</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/TSMZT7tN7yI/AAAAAAAACSA/pOgOpTzZMmA/S220/155131_466084780414_619890414_5844925_3617531_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-197971195958503036.post-1023578842694506737</id><published>2010-04-14T00:31:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-04-13T09:31:35.853-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;sitting here in this cozy position with the cool weather, n gathering all the things we have accomplished n done the past week gimme a feeling that my brain cells r all working again, despite cracking ym head so hard  in class the whole noon. pleased that we sort of done several meaningful things. another fun thing we did was catching up with aarone (who has been staying in camp for 2 weeks) n bryan (who's both our old sch friend). we slayed some zombies (finally managed to accomplish a level) so we had frog porridge as supper. 3 of us shared 7 frogs. just awesome, surely that'd be multiplied many times if we don't feel full after eating. i swear i'll be eating away every second then &lt;span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;img style="width: 15px; height: 15px;" src="http://stat.livejournal.com/img/mood/ibrad/talking.gif" align="absmiddle" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt; &lt;img src="http://stat.livejournal.com/img/mood/ibrad/talking.gif" align="absmiddle" height="15" width="15" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt; &lt;img src="http://stat.livejournal.com/img/mood/ibrad/talking.gif" align="absmiddle" height="15" width="15" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt; &lt;img src="http://stat.livejournal.com/img/mood/ibrad/talking.gif" align="absmiddle" height="15" width="15" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt; &lt;img src="http://stat.livejournal.com/img/mood/ibrad/talking.gif" align="absmiddle" height="15" width="15" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt; &lt;img src="http://stat.livejournal.com/img/mood/ibrad/talking.gif" align="absmiddle" height="15" width="15" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;roy &amp;amp; i haven't had the time to snuggle up in bed, with our feet crossing over n speaking with all sorts of cartoon tones for the past week cos of our sch commitments n such, drying us up. trying to complete our assignments that have been set since the start of the module but it seems that our attention spans are getting smaller n smaller, damn. but it's still far better to be kept busy than free n bored. i can't stand someone, or even myself, to just do nothing else except down to eating, drinking, showering, laughing, sleeping, walking. anyway coincidentally, both of our assignments due date is the following monday so we still got a week to prepare, not for the worst of cos. friday promises to be fun. becos it's our coming 3rd month n we absolutely can't wait,,,, we get to plan for ourselves for every alternate month, so this fri happens to be darlingboy's turn. am bursting! it's gnna turn out great, x&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/197971195958503036-1023578842694506737?l=bugfordinner.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bugfordinner.blogspot.com/feeds/1023578842694506737/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=197971195958503036&amp;postID=1023578842694506737&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/197971195958503036/posts/default/1023578842694506737'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/197971195958503036/posts/default/1023578842694506737'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bugfordinner.blogspot.com/2010/04/sitting-here-in-this-cozy-position-with.html' title=''/><author><name>Anthea (born c'92)</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09682674126991182155</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/TSMZT7tN7yI/AAAAAAAACSA/pOgOpTzZMmA/S220/155131_466084780414_619890414_5844925_3617531_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-197971195958503036.post-4837561817895337609</id><published>2010-04-11T01:58:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2010-04-11T02:05:03.257-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/S8GPTLLPtGI/AAAAAAAACIk/qBTFuoOlm8o/s1600/kzrbwrezNC1.png"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/S8GPTLLPtGI/AAAAAAAACIk/qBTFuoOlm8o/s400/kzrbwrezNC1.png" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5458801782929994850" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;that day i carried the dream around like a full glass of water filled to its brim, moving gracefully so i would not lose any of it. i love u royboy x&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/197971195958503036-4837561817895337609?l=bugfordinner.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bugfordinner.blogspot.com/feeds/4837561817895337609/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=197971195958503036&amp;postID=4837561817895337609&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/197971195958503036/posts/default/4837561817895337609'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/197971195958503036/posts/default/4837561817895337609'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bugfordinner.blogspot.com/2010/04/that-day-i-carried-dream-around-like.html' title=''/><author><name>Anthea (born c'92)</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09682674126991182155</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/TSMZT7tN7yI/AAAAAAAACSA/pOgOpTzZMmA/S220/155131_466084780414_619890414_5844925_3617531_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/S8GPTLLPtGI/AAAAAAAACIk/qBTFuoOlm8o/s72-c/kzrbwrezNC1.png' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-197971195958503036.post-7867080624284782937</id><published>2010-04-05T07:15:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-04-05T08:20:03.409-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Had a happy getaway with my bf n family. It was a fruitful weekend, with totally no stress. We had much food, full body massage (wait till y'see royboy n daddy's backs), karaoke with beer throughout the night, n also visited the less privileged n old folks' home with all the stuff my eldest brother bought. Each time we go there, he would buy truckload of food for 'em. It indeed brought us closer, but would be perfect if Erwin, Amelia, n Aarone were around too. Lookin' forward to the next time&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/197971195958503036-7867080624284782937?l=bugfordinner.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bugfordinner.blogspot.com/feeds/7867080624284782937/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=197971195958503036&amp;postID=7867080624284782937&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/197971195958503036/posts/default/7867080624284782937'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/197971195958503036/posts/default/7867080624284782937'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bugfordinner.blogspot.com/2010/04/had-happy-getaway-with-my-bf-n-family.html' title=''/><author><name>Anthea (born c'92)</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09682674126991182155</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/TSMZT7tN7yI/AAAAAAAACSA/pOgOpTzZMmA/S220/155131_466084780414_619890414_5844925_3617531_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-197971195958503036.post-8335063165865631545</id><published>2010-04-05T07:10:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-04-06T07:54:00.002-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/S7tIwKv5jRI/AAAAAAAACIM/njisrxxBtAQ/s1600/IMG_2118.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/S7tIwKv5jRI/AAAAAAAACIM/njisrxxBtAQ/s400/IMG_2118.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5457035365845667090" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/S7tIwmEmarI/AAAAAAAACIU/dO7wY0U1LOQ/s1600/IMG_2078.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/S7tIwmEmarI/AAAAAAAACIU/dO7wY0U1LOQ/s400/IMG_2078.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5457035373180250802" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/S7tIvxhjuJI/AAAAAAAACIE/R-0FKeXwIuU/s1600/IMG_2125.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/S7tIvxhjuJI/AAAAAAAACIE/R-0FKeXwIuU/s400/IMG_2125.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5457035359074629778" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/S7tIvR6mBvI/AAAAAAAACH8/OffGUKgGgCI/s1600/IMG_2131-.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/S7tIvR6mBvI/AAAAAAAACH8/OffGUKgGgCI/s400/IMG_2131-.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5457035350589703922" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/S7tHxiJAYfI/AAAAAAAACH0/oKU6SMApGS8/s1600/IMG_2126.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/S7tHxiJAYfI/AAAAAAAACH0/oKU6SMApGS8/s400/IMG_2126.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5457034289793229298" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/S7tIxW008KI/AAAAAAAACIc/W3TU-PDkHkw/s1600/IMG_2075.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/S7tIxW008KI/AAAAAAAACIc/W3TU-PDkHkw/s400/IMG_2075.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5457035386267431074" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/S7tHxeVpmhI/AAAAAAAACHs/JP5MpOLhTZk/s1600/IMG_2162.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/S7tHxeVpmhI/AAAAAAAACHs/JP5MpOLhTZk/s400/IMG_2162.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5457034288772520466" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/S7tHxBtAc3I/AAAAAAAACHk/-m8Nhg_igr4/s1600/IMG_2175.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/S7tHxBtAc3I/AAAAAAAACHk/-m8Nhg_igr4/s400/IMG_2175.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5457034281085858674" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Look at dearest's back!&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/S7tHwvpMH9I/AAAAAAAACHc/Otl0fuaj0E0/s1600/IMG_2183.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/S7tHwvpMH9I/AAAAAAAACHc/Otl0fuaj0E0/s400/IMG_2183.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5457034276238008274" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/S7tG_GZ_iUI/AAAAAAAACHU/h7Qz-g216S8/s1600/IMG_2243-.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/S7tG_GZ_iUI/AAAAAAAACHU/h7Qz-g216S8/s400/IMG_2243-.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5457033423354825026" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/S7tG-5QWfSI/AAAAAAAACHM/ko9c6Z9NFnA/s1600/IMG_2205.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/S7tG-5QWfSI/AAAAAAAACHM/ko9c6Z9NFnA/s400/IMG_2205.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5457033419824725282" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/S7tEqdAu7rI/AAAAAAAACHE/8UtFv59rmoU/s1600/IMG_2233.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/S7tEqdAu7rI/AAAAAAAACHE/8UtFv59rmoU/s400/IMG_2233.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5457030869622386354" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/S7tEp2ClDQI/AAAAAAAACG8/XFmsLj6H8lI/s1600/IMG_2249.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/S7tEp2ClDQI/AAAAAAAACG8/XFmsLj6H8lI/s400/IMG_2249.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5457030859161144578" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/197971195958503036-8335063165865631545?l=bugfordinner.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bugfordinner.blogspot.com/feeds/8335063165865631545/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=197971195958503036&amp;postID=8335063165865631545&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/197971195958503036/posts/default/8335063165865631545'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/197971195958503036/posts/default/8335063165865631545'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bugfordinner.blogspot.com/2010/04/look-at-dearests-back.html' title=''/><author><name>Anthea (born c'92)</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09682674126991182155</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/TSMZT7tN7yI/AAAAAAAACSA/pOgOpTzZMmA/S220/155131_466084780414_619890414_5844925_3617531_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/S7tIwKv5jRI/AAAAAAAACIM/njisrxxBtAQ/s72-c/IMG_2118.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-197971195958503036.post-8138412201716727305</id><published>2010-03-26T19:53:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-03-26T04:55:49.442-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;pre&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:arial;font-size:100%;"  &gt;I don't care if Monday's blue&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:arial;font-size:100%;"  &gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tuesday's gray and Wednesday too&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:arial;font-size:100%;"  &gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thursday, I don't care about you&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:arial;font-size:100%;"  &gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's Friday, I'm in love&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:arial;font-size:100%;"  &gt;Monday you can fall apart&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:arial;font-size:100%;"  &gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tuesday, Wednesday break my heart&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:arial;font-size:100%;"  &gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thursday doesn't even start&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:arial;font-size:100%;"  &gt;&lt;br /&gt; It's Friday, I'm in love&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/pre&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/197971195958503036-8138412201716727305?l=bugfordinner.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bugfordinner.blogspot.com/feeds/8138412201716727305/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=197971195958503036&amp;postID=8138412201716727305&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/197971195958503036/posts/default/8138412201716727305'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/197971195958503036/posts/default/8138412201716727305'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bugfordinner.blogspot.com/2010/03/i-dont-care-if-mondays-blue-tuesdays.html' title=''/><author><name>Anthea (born c'92)</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09682674126991182155</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/TSMZT7tN7yI/AAAAAAAACSA/pOgOpTzZMmA/S220/155131_466084780414_619890414_5844925_3617531_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-197971195958503036.post-7030777886469792736</id><published>2010-03-20T21:36:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-11-12T00:16:23.388-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;I feel quiet now, but I need to write. All I gotta say.......................&lt;br /&gt;Yesterday, we were walking to get ice-cream for myself n you happened to see this snail in front of you. For a split-second I shifted my stare down at the floor, at your right foot. I knew what you were thinking, you were thinking the same thing as I was. We were always thinking of the same thing, almost like reading each others' thoughts. That may be creepy, but to me, it is a special bond that only brought us closer together with time, no? You bent down n took the snail gently, walked over to the nearest tree n placed it there. You were afraid that he would get squashed by some idiotic fat ass who don't look at the way. I smiled. This is one of the thousand reasons you're mine. Everyday, there would be little things that make me smile. Simple things. No, not those cliche mushy words "I will always adore you" or "You look so beautiful". I've always been emphasizing, I like to spend as much time with you especially on rainy days. This fact still remains. I hope it sounds convincing enough, anyway it doesn't really matter if it is or not. 'Cause I know you know that, n it's gonna go on for long. Just watch&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I. did. not. wash. my. hair. today. at all. We had a 2-hour nap after eating swedish meatballs n poached salmon. I don't know what was wrong with me. Little coughs whilst asleep. Breathless when I woke up. Blurry vision for the past hour. Sick in the stomach. Hands trembled uncontrollably. Veins hurting when I carried Mafia. Y'know all of these. I don't feel like I'm 18. I miss you, more than a pup misses its pedigree. I want n wish n need your warm, delicate hands to rub against my back now. Hey no, not the scratchings that you did to irritate me more. You're like some kind of medicine to my body, antidote. Something that always never fail to calm me down and make me want more. Always so addictive, sweetheart&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Other than that- please remember my thumb drive . See you in 10 minutes' time&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/197971195958503036-7030777886469792736?l=bugfordinner.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bugfordinner.blogspot.com/feeds/7030777886469792736/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=197971195958503036&amp;postID=7030777886469792736&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/197971195958503036/posts/default/7030777886469792736'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/197971195958503036/posts/default/7030777886469792736'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bugfordinner.blogspot.com/2010/03/i-feel-quiet-now-but-i-need-to-write_7805.html' title=''/><author><name>Anthea (born c'92)</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09682674126991182155</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/TSMZT7tN7yI/AAAAAAAACSA/pOgOpTzZMmA/S220/155131_466084780414_619890414_5844925_3617531_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-197971195958503036.post-2545706351518986778</id><published>2010-03-17T03:03:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-03-17T02:36:59.934-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>The past 2 weekends had been great. We got our oven, ready for our baking plan that has been jotted down in our organizer since forever. Yohoo. And paramore was a blast! Hayley's friggin hot. Btw the people really moshed hard that night. On sat, I slept in with Little Mafia n had mcdonald's deluxe big breakfast all ready after I got out of bed. All thanks to boyfriend for the thoughtful weekend plans. First day of school on monday was all fine as well, had already started on the presentations. I'd love to have more work, than to just slack around like some hopeless rot ass. Had an hour lunch with R, and he waited for 3 more hours around the area, just so he could fetch me home. I know he rarely waits for people. What a great bf :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Today was yet another awesome day. He sent me all the way to school in the morning, and we went ice-skating after sushi! Hmm a day I would soon not forget, nor would I ever want to. How fun!! Looking forward to more of such wonderful moments. Girls, I’m living proof that there is someone&lt;i&gt; &lt;/i&gt;out there for you- sometimes you just have to let them find you. Happy 2nd, Royboy.......&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/S5_Joadp0JI/AAAAAAAACGE/iVTx3__WKxM/s1600-h/DSC01462.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/S5_Joadp0JI/AAAAAAAACGE/iVTx3__WKxM/s400/DSC01462.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5449295770277236882" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;I got no idea whose hands that belong to, yeah focus on hayley&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/S5_Jnt-f7UI/AAAAAAAACF8/CEXIYJEF33U/s1600-h/DSC01443.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/S5_Jnt-f7UI/AAAAAAAACF8/CEXIYJEF33U/s400/DSC01443.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5449295758335405378" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/S5_JpC08opI/AAAAAAAACGM/QFmiRbforoo/s1600-h/DSC01479.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/S5_JpC08opI/AAAAAAAACGM/QFmiRbforoo/s400/DSC01479.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5449295781112357522" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Little Mafia....Just like a baby.......&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/S5_JpuJfNyI/AAAAAAAACGU/AiBstSqfDFA/s1600-h/DSC01483.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/S5_JpuJfNyI/AAAAAAAACGU/AiBstSqfDFA/s400/DSC01483.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5449295792741234466" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/S5_KuvBcvGI/AAAAAAAACGc/qJ2UfAR8NW0/s1600-h/DSC01500.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/S5_KuvBcvGI/AAAAAAAACGc/qJ2UfAR8NW0/s400/DSC01500.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5449296978386926690" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/S5_KvQWFW5I/AAAAAAAACGk/9ci7gUBqdV8/s1600-h/DSC01518.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/S5_KvQWFW5I/AAAAAAAACGk/9ci7gUBqdV8/s400/DSC01518.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5449296987331845010" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;1. He is a carnivore, I'm a herbivore&lt;br /&gt;2. He doesn't give a damn about lizards but kind of dislikes cockroaches. On the contrary, I either freeze/scream/cringe/cry upon seeing them ugly lizards but feel nothing even when I accidentally step onto cockroaches. fyi I often chase them haha&lt;br /&gt;3. He prefers the kind of squats in toilets while I can't pee that way :(&lt;br /&gt;4. I don't eat in my bedroom 'cause I am very mindful of the cleanliness of my bed!&lt;br /&gt;5. He is good at swimming, while I'm poor at that :(&lt;br /&gt;6. He prefers typing, while I love to read and write&lt;br /&gt;7. He likes to interlock the fingers when holding hands, but I like the normal kind&lt;br /&gt;8. Cheeky boy likes to kiss while silly girl likes to hug. xoxo&lt;br /&gt;9. My fave: gingko nuts, unagi and salmon (He doesn't eat them)&lt;br /&gt;His fave: beef, chicken rice, pork (I don't like them)&lt;br /&gt;10. I have a million dreams every night while he doesn't dream at all&lt;br /&gt;11. I drink milk a lot, he doesn't take milk&lt;br /&gt;And many more...............&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is why they say, opposites attract&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/197971195958503036-2545706351518986778?l=bugfordinner.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bugfordinner.blogspot.com/feeds/2545706351518986778/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=197971195958503036&amp;postID=2545706351518986778&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/197971195958503036/posts/default/2545706351518986778'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/197971195958503036/posts/default/2545706351518986778'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bugfordinner.blogspot.com/2010/03/past-2-weekends-had-been-great.html' title=''/><author><name>Anthea (born c'92)</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09682674126991182155</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/TSMZT7tN7yI/AAAAAAAACSA/pOgOpTzZMmA/S220/155131_466084780414_619890414_5844925_3617531_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/S5_Joadp0JI/AAAAAAAACGE/iVTx3__WKxM/s72-c/DSC01462.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-197971195958503036.post-1046705168331462727</id><published>2010-03-06T04:33:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-03-05T21:41:30.859-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Dear diary, I still remember that when I was young, I often told my mommy I want an ugly boyfriend, a totally hideous husband in future. Maybe not a really banged up person but just not as good-looking. Because I don't want any other girls to get involved with him. Yes, I learnt to be selfish at a young age. As cliche as it sounds, I didn't have high expectations but just hoped that somehow he would love me unconditionally, the others don't matter at all. Until when I reached my double digits, I began to have endless expectations for a guy. Besides that, I really don’t think it's quite possible to find someone I could completely mesh with, n be 100 percent satisfied with. Y'know what? I always thought that maybe I'm just scared to find someone I truly love 'cause I'm afraid there could be someone out there even better for me. Right now, I am content with everything n I totally do not have the old mindset any more. The reason could be only becos of Roy. Yes, my Royboy&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Every single day, we encounter new things. We hug, fight, make peace, love. Can you imagine that we actually quarrelled over a soft drink last night? It would be mean of me to send him home at 2am, like a little boy getting punished for not drinking plain water. Speaking of which, baby I'd like to apologize once again that I should always, always think twice before I show my grumpy face at you. We felt overwhelmingly weary in the middle of the night. He snatched my bolster while I pulled over the soft blanket. As usual, he fell asleep within no time n I lay there with a mixture of feelings. I wanted to read my new book that he bought for me, but I wouldn't want to wake him up if I turn on the lights. Feeling stiff n drained, I refused to sleep. Bf had to get up at 6 in the morning for his camp stuff at west coast. Knowing it would be getting light soon, I continued counting to his little snores n deep breathing. At that moment, I wished it'd rain right away so I could close my eyes whilst leaning my heavy head against the cool windowpane, think of sad lyrics n let my mind wander freely. No, I wasn't sad. It's just a habit of mine, I'm eccentric like that. Anyway, I'm glad I woke dearest up at 6 'cause he played frisbee n I bet it was a fun morning. Today, he was holding my hand n smiling as he was talking about it. He mentioned of the little adorable kids he met at the park. As often, we argued over baby girl/boy. I always prefer baby boy while he likes baby girls more&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I want a baby girl, pretty like the mum n we can doll her up!" He said&lt;br /&gt;"I want a baby boy, with nice lips n good character like the dad" I replied&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This evening, we went for movie with my mommy n brother. My stomach was growling throughout in the cinema although we had dinner just right before the movie started. Royboy bought happy meal for me n we spent a few hours talking at Sungei Buloh. The last time we were there was filled with deep memories. It was the day we officially got together. We agreed that during this point of time, our love has indeed grown stronger each day. Tonight, both of us got off the car n enjoyed the cool breeze, till I went almost weak on the legs. He pulled his jacket over me. As observed for a while, our hearts n minds do link with each other. We always happen to do or react the same way together. We saw 3 dogs ran past. I remembered the first time he brought me there, I was quite afraid yet calm cos there were a lot of stray dogs. This particular dog has white spots on its black body, or black spots on its white body, either one whatever but I named it Dalmatian. I saw Dalmatian earlier on again, it was looking good. Love...... tonight, compared to  the previous visit there, I do realized I care much more for you. Thanks for always being the nicest thus far. There's something I'd like to add on. I know that the reason you brought me there tonight's cos there are really some unhappy issues on your mind. I'm glad you feel much better now. Y'know we have to stop desiring certain answers, they cant be given to us. As y'know I've always got a million things to tell you, but one thing that slipped off my mind earlier on was that, I no longer feel dark inside me, ever since you found me. I love you, R&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The reason I haven't been updating as often as I did is because I'm living my everyday in happy moments. Seriously so. I used to rant or drown every posts with unhappy issues that had been happening constantly all the time, but right now, I literally do not have anything else to update on except the happy days spent. It's 4:30am. Been a long day, n we still have to run errands later on. So, peace out!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/197971195958503036-1046705168331462727?l=bugfordinner.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bugfordinner.blogspot.com/feeds/1046705168331462727/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=197971195958503036&amp;postID=1046705168331462727&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/197971195958503036/posts/default/1046705168331462727'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/197971195958503036/posts/default/1046705168331462727'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bugfordinner.blogspot.com/2010/03/dear-diary-i-still-remember-that-when-i.html' title=''/><author><name>Anthea (born c'92)</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09682674126991182155</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/TSMZT7tN7yI/AAAAAAAACSA/pOgOpTzZMmA/S220/155131_466084780414_619890414_5844925_3617531_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-197971195958503036.post-8527955243206268314</id><published>2010-03-06T03:29:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-03-05T11:29:31.854-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/S5FbbXWZ6CI/AAAAAAAACFc/vaI791lKaGs/s1600-h/bookpage10.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 259px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/S5FbbXWZ6CI/AAAAAAAACFc/vaI791lKaGs/s400/bookpage10.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5445233950150223906" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;I am living life to the fullest, r you?&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/197971195958503036-8527955243206268314?l=bugfordinner.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bugfordinner.blogspot.com/feeds/8527955243206268314/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=197971195958503036&amp;postID=8527955243206268314&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/197971195958503036/posts/default/8527955243206268314'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/197971195958503036/posts/default/8527955243206268314'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bugfordinner.blogspot.com/2010/03/i-am-living-life-to-fullest-r-you.html' title=''/><author><name>Anthea (born c'92)</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09682674126991182155</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/TSMZT7tN7yI/AAAAAAAACSA/pOgOpTzZMmA/S220/155131_466084780414_619890414_5844925_3617531_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/S5FbbXWZ6CI/AAAAAAAACFc/vaI791lKaGs/s72-c/bookpage10.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-197971195958503036.post-538702492873253118</id><published>2010-02-25T01:04:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-02-24T09:04:40.226-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/S4VabaaL5JI/AAAAAAAACFM/KNQwoUOuoqU/s1600-h/IMG_3935.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/S4VabaaL5JI/AAAAAAAACFM/KNQwoUOuoqU/s400/IMG_3935.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5441855151739233426" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;For awhile, I've been doing practically nothing except lying on the bed all day to read n going for heavy suppers. Today's great. Dearest brought Mafia over for some fun. I was feeling rather blah, but happy to the max to see the biggest naughty with the little naughty at the doorstep. Daddy played soccer with Mafia........We took him out, to petrol kiosk n for lunch, then to the playground....Aarone came n played ball with him too. Happy puppy. We headed to fetch little Regan from school, before going to dinner with the parents. Time to hit the bookstore soon&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/S4VbRj49A5I/AAAAAAAACFU/j0W8Tbs08gg/s1600-h/IMG_3936-.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 298px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/S4VbRj49A5I/AAAAAAAACFU/j0W8Tbs08gg/s400/IMG_3936-.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5441856081997136786" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/S4VaSZVK-BI/AAAAAAAACFE/gsTbU4mPahI/s1600-h/IMG_3936-.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/197971195958503036-538702492873253118?l=bugfordinner.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bugfordinner.blogspot.com/feeds/538702492873253118/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=197971195958503036&amp;postID=538702492873253118&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/197971195958503036/posts/default/538702492873253118'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/197971195958503036/posts/default/538702492873253118'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bugfordinner.blogspot.com/2010/02/for-past-few-days-been-doing.html' title=''/><author><name>Anthea (born c'92)</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09682674126991182155</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/TSMZT7tN7yI/AAAAAAAACSA/pOgOpTzZMmA/S220/155131_466084780414_619890414_5844925_3617531_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/S4VabaaL5JI/AAAAAAAACFM/KNQwoUOuoqU/s72-c/IMG_3935.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-197971195958503036.post-6945653141676065696</id><published>2010-02-23T21:24:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-02-23T05:24:36.540-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/S4POjWtx1lI/AAAAAAAACE8/8HJhZtJ6JWA/s1600-h/19165_313827276238.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/S4POjWtx1lI/AAAAAAAACE8/8HJhZtJ6JWA/s400/19165_313827276238.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5441419881582024274" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;i style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;"Sometimes it’s easier for me to pretend rather than face my feelings. Sometimes it’s easier to try to make it alone rather than risk getting hurt again. Sometimes it’s easier to be numb towards certain people, so I don’t let them get too close. Sometimes I’m scared, but when I act numb towards you, it doesn’t mean I don’t care. It means I care too much."&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/S4PLNFAr_rI/AAAAAAAACEs/zQCePIRGETc/s1600-h/19165_313827261238.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/S4PLNFAr_rI/AAAAAAAACEs/zQCePIRGETc/s400/19165_313827261238.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5441416200337489586" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/197971195958503036-6945653141676065696?l=bugfordinner.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bugfordinner.blogspot.com/feeds/6945653141676065696/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=197971195958503036&amp;postID=6945653141676065696&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/197971195958503036/posts/default/6945653141676065696'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/197971195958503036/posts/default/6945653141676065696'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bugfordinner.blogspot.com/2010/02/sometimes-its-easier-for-me-to-pretend.html' title=''/><author><name>Anthea (born c'92)</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09682674126991182155</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/TSMZT7tN7yI/AAAAAAAACSA/pOgOpTzZMmA/S220/155131_466084780414_619890414_5844925_3617531_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/S4POjWtx1lI/AAAAAAAACE8/8HJhZtJ6JWA/s72-c/19165_313827276238.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-197971195958503036.post-4735874405926112768</id><published>2010-02-18T01:05:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-02-17T09:05:11.553-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>This is what we did on our 1st month.......&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/S3whoyjX7NI/AAAAAAAACEc/KKT3p7VrtGE/s1600-h/IMG_3880.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/S3whoyjX7NI/AAAAAAAACEc/KKT3p7VrtGE/s400/IMG_3880.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5439259434605341906" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/S3whpB_Qc-I/AAAAAAAACEk/RH-QUJPDGUU/s1600-h/IMG_3883.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/S3whpB_Qc-I/AAAAAAAACEk/RH-QUJPDGUU/s400/IMG_3883.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5439259438748824546" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/197971195958503036-4735874405926112768?l=bugfordinner.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bugfordinner.blogspot.com/feeds/4735874405926112768/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=197971195958503036&amp;postID=4735874405926112768&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/197971195958503036/posts/default/4735874405926112768'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/197971195958503036/posts/default/4735874405926112768'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bugfordinner.blogspot.com/2010/02/this-is-what-we-did-on-our-1st-month.html' title=''/><author><name>Anthea (born c'92)</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09682674126991182155</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/TSMZT7tN7yI/AAAAAAAACSA/pOgOpTzZMmA/S220/155131_466084780414_619890414_5844925_3617531_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/S3whoyjX7NI/AAAAAAAACEc/KKT3p7VrtGE/s72-c/IMG_3880.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-197971195958503036.post-489995794414392714</id><published>2010-02-17T23:45:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-02-17T08:58:58.372-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Theze pictures were taken on the first day of lunar new year at both grannies'. On the first day, I already had 2 ulcers so I didnt quite eat a lot of bakkwa. I wasn't afraid of anything except the fact that it pains each time I bite something hard. Pitiful baby haha&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/S3wCaCat6wI/AAAAAAAAB9k/SwPGzdFgb6k/s1600-h/IMG_3605.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/S3wCaCat6wI/AAAAAAAAB9k/SwPGzdFgb6k/s400/IMG_3605.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5439225096305502978" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/S3wD0peiAVI/AAAAAAAAB-U/OyRDQYrmy70/s1600-h/IMG_3639.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 292px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/S3wD0peiAVI/AAAAAAAAB-U/OyRDQYrmy70/s400/IMG_3639.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5439226652978708818" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/S3wD0GE0VDI/AAAAAAAAB-M/4u6zcWkHvD8/s1600-h/IMG_3638.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 292px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/S3wD0GE0VDI/AAAAAAAAB-M/4u6zcWkHvD8/s400/IMG_3638.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5439226643475616818" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/S3wCbdrIC1I/AAAAAAAAB-E/dykqgDJE36Y/s1600-h/IMG_3635.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 296px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/S3wCbdrIC1I/AAAAAAAAB-E/dykqgDJE36Y/s400/IMG_3635.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5439225120801950546" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/S3wYskT5MaI/AAAAAAAACEU/ZkfHM43sAJc/s1600-h/IMG_3627.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/S3wYskT5MaI/AAAAAAAACEU/ZkfHM43sAJc/s400/IMG_3627.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5439249603897143714" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/S3wHXAsWzsI/AAAAAAAAB_M/IjTQf54aRik/s1600-h/IMG_3667.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/S3wHXAsWzsI/AAAAAAAAB_M/IjTQf54aRik/s400/IMG_3667.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5439230541861146306" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/S3wHW-53gmI/AAAAAAAAB_E/m_cYMQujDsc/s1600-h/IMG_36660.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 299px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/S3wHW-53gmI/AAAAAAAAB_E/m_cYMQujDsc/s400/IMG_36660.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5439230541380944482" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Last new year, I thought everything was dull n unplanned. This year, I am having much fun with R around. I plan to carry on with this kind of life, cos it's truly what I want and hopefully it will stay this way in the long run&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/S3wHWg64PMI/AAAAAAAAB-8/CYU3AbA27Yk/s1600-h/IMG_3660.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/S3wHWg64PMI/AAAAAAAAB-8/CYU3AbA27Yk/s400/IMG_3660.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5439230533332122818" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/S3wHWBX60XI/AAAAAAAAB-0/SWOVrAbAziI/s1600-h/IMG_3657.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/S3wHWBX60XI/AAAAAAAAB-0/SWOVrAbAziI/s400/IMG_3657.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5439230524863992178" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/S3wHXT8Xr7I/AAAAAAAAB_U/84uWg0y5OCE/s1600-h/IMG_3686.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/S3wHXT8Xr7I/AAAAAAAAB_U/84uWg0y5OCE/s400/IMG_3686.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5439230547028586418" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/S3wD0-m_R3I/AAAAAAAAB-c/wv69pJ0hA2w/s1600-h/IMG_3645.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/S3wD0-m_R3I/AAAAAAAAB-c/wv69pJ0hA2w/s400/IMG_3645.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5439226658651326322" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/S3wD1CzxAoI/AAAAAAAAB-k/unCpibXgfiE/s1600-h/IMG_3650.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/S3wD1CzxAoI/AAAAAAAAB-k/unCpibXgfiE/s400/IMG_3650.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5439226659778658946" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/S3wD1rCMyoI/AAAAAAAAB-s/XIewQGU6krQ/s1600-h/IMG_3652.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/S3wD1rCMyoI/AAAAAAAAB-s/XIewQGU6krQ/s400/IMG_3652.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5439226670576618114" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/S3wCanyhEUI/AAAAAAAAB9s/Nl1Y3QJ6QeE/s1600-h/IMG_3622.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/S3wCanyhEUI/AAAAAAAAB9s/Nl1Y3QJ6QeE/s400/IMG_3622.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5439225106337435970" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/S3wCa5WJfpI/AAAAAAAAB90/XEZT4t8mnOk/s1600-h/IMG_3623.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/S3wCa5WJfpI/AAAAAAAAB90/XEZT4t8mnOk/s400/IMG_3623.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5439225111050288786" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/S3wJ_ukcieI/AAAAAAAACAU/Z_F5LJAbyzM/s1600-h/IMG_3717.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/S3wJ_ukcieI/AAAAAAAACAU/Z_F5LJAbyzM/s400/IMG_3717.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5439233440394021346" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/S3wJ_aMmsFI/AAAAAAAACAM/K1i766YdIWY/s1600-h/IMG_3711.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/S3wJ_aMmsFI/AAAAAAAACAM/K1i766YdIWY/s400/IMG_3711.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5439233434925314130" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Little naughty coussie&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/S3wJ_EgKh6I/AAAAAAAACAE/dXWZQPoI7Z8/s1600-h/IMG_3710.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/S3wJ_EgKh6I/AAAAAAAACAE/dXWZQPoI7Z8/s400/IMG_3710.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5439233429101774754" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/S3wJLLMsszI/AAAAAAAAB_8/rNm9jt8RROk/s1600-h/IMG_3701.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/S3wJLLMsszI/AAAAAAAAB_8/rNm9jt8RROk/s400/IMG_3701.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5439232537545978674" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/S3wJJtLcEsI/AAAAAAAAB_c/s3yNmwb1NRo/s1600-h/IMG_3692.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/S3wJJtLcEsI/AAAAAAAAB_c/s3yNmwb1NRo/s400/IMG_3692.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5439232512307761858" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/S3wJKMOnaPI/AAAAAAAAB_k/32BFClMtZrI/s1600-h/IMG_3694.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/S3wJKMOnaPI/AAAAAAAAB_k/32BFClMtZrI/s400/IMG_3694.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5439232520642586866" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/S3wJKaGvw1I/AAAAAAAAB_s/6jpoOxABSQ8/s1600-h/IMG_3698.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/S3wJKaGvw1I/AAAAAAAAB_s/6jpoOxABSQ8/s400/IMG_3698.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5439232524367676242" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;We never give supper a miss every night&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/S3wLBrsenII/AAAAAAAACA0/Vslpyk0AUOs/s1600-h/IMG_3735.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/S3wLBrsenII/AAAAAAAACA0/Vslpyk0AUOs/s400/IMG_3735.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5439234573493771394" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/S3wLAvOiOGI/AAAAAAAACAs/HLBExuDiV7g/s1600-h/IMG_37310.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 299px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/S3wLAvOiOGI/AAAAAAAACAs/HLBExuDiV7g/s400/IMG_37310.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5439234557262051426" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/S3wKAd40ITI/AAAAAAAACAk/9qFigt1J_mU/s1600-h/IMG_3725.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/S3wKAd40ITI/AAAAAAAACAk/9qFigt1J_mU/s400/IMG_3725.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5439233453095919922" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/S3wKAHxneRI/AAAAAAAACAc/Gbj-vmBkTFI/s1600-h/IMG_3724.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/S3wKAHxneRI/AAAAAAAACAc/Gbj-vmBkTFI/s400/IMG_3724.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5439233447160150290" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;I enjoy festive occasions like this only 'cause family gathering n collecting angpow turn me on! hahah. How was everybody else's new year spent??&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/197971195958503036-489995794414392714?l=bugfordinner.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bugfordinner.blogspot.com/feeds/489995794414392714/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=197971195958503036&amp;postID=489995794414392714&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/197971195958503036/posts/default/489995794414392714'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/197971195958503036/posts/default/489995794414392714'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bugfordinner.blogspot.com/2010/02/theze-pictures-were-taken-on-first-day.html' title=''/><author><name>Anthea (born c'92)</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09682674126991182155</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/TSMZT7tN7yI/AAAAAAAACSA/pOgOpTzZMmA/S220/155131_466084780414_619890414_5844925_3617531_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/S3wCaCat6wI/AAAAAAAAB9k/SwPGzdFgb6k/s72-c/IMG_3605.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-197971195958503036.post-7437272925807501163</id><published>2010-02-17T23:21:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-02-17T09:06:33.465-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Dong qiang dong qiang~&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/S3wPNFfoSCI/AAAAAAAACB0/RNR4LXWKYYs/s1600-h/IMG_3766.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/S3wPNFfoSCI/AAAAAAAACB0/RNR4LXWKYYs/s400/IMG_3766.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5439239167444273186" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;I've always loved lion dance........&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/S3wPMnTdU0I/AAAAAAAACBs/MvZgL4l2-no/s1600-h/IMG_3769.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/S3wPMnTdU0I/AAAAAAAACBs/MvZgL4l2-no/s400/IMG_3769.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5439239159340159810" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Me n my greatest love&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/S3wPMTdzwcI/AAAAAAAACBk/xcieMAJlUU4/s1600-h/IMG_3763.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/S3wPMTdzwcI/AAAAAAAACBk/xcieMAJlUU4/s400/IMG_3763.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5439239154014863810" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/S3wMw9YcsWI/AAAAAAAACBc/aauQ4VqsLSw/s1600-h/IMG_3761.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/S3wMw9YcsWI/AAAAAAAACBc/aauQ4VqsLSw/s400/IMG_3761.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5439236485207077218" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/S3wMwkovyUI/AAAAAAAACBU/YCvrVaAbDaE/s1600-h/IMG_3758.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/S3wMwkovyUI/AAAAAAAACBU/YCvrVaAbDaE/s400/IMG_3758.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5439236478564550978" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/S3wMwH8AwNI/AAAAAAAACBM/lFycGmqn9fk/s1600-h/IMG_3751.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/S3wMwH8AwNI/AAAAAAAACBM/lFycGmqn9fk/s400/IMG_3751.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5439236470860726482" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/S3wMvxYWL9I/AAAAAAAACBE/gd0zP4ErVcU/s1600-h/IMG_3746.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/S3wMvxYWL9I/AAAAAAAACBE/gd0zP4ErVcU/s400/IMG_3746.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5439236464805556178" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/S3wMvWPcnlI/AAAAAAAACA8/JMpSloBTmF8/s1600-h/IMG_3744.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/S3wMvWPcnlI/AAAAAAAACA8/JMpSloBTmF8/s400/IMG_3744.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5439236457520471634" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Headed for old town coffee&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/S3wPNWRwv8I/AAAAAAAACB8/YjhyaCs4Fak/s1600-h/IMG_3771.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/S3wPNWRwv8I/AAAAAAAACB8/YjhyaCs4Fak/s400/IMG_3771.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5439239171949510594" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/S3wQupmYuPI/AAAAAAAACCM/ljPb2XS4Emg/s1600-h/IMG_3775.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/S3wQupmYuPI/AAAAAAAACCM/ljPb2XS4Emg/s400/IMG_3775.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5439240843583600882" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/S3wQvWlYYwI/AAAAAAAACCc/FTxo6MkrQQw/s1600-h/IMG_3786-0.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 299px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/S3wQvWlYYwI/AAAAAAAACCc/FTxo6MkrQQw/s400/IMG_3786-0.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5439240855658980098" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/S3wPN3B9z7I/AAAAAAAACCE/AlOHxJjsT_w/s1600-h/IMG_3773.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/S3wPN3B9z7I/AAAAAAAACCE/AlOHxJjsT_w/s400/IMG_3773.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5439239180741627826" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/S3wQu8sxQWI/AAAAAAAACCU/dsH0eryFvjs/s1600-h/IMG_3780.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/S3wQu8sxQWI/AAAAAAAACCU/dsH0eryFvjs/s400/IMG_3780.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5439240848710648162" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/S3wUNLxE9CI/AAAAAAAACDM/gIRH2ocRNvE/s1600-h/IMG_3836.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/S3wUNLxE9CI/AAAAAAAACDM/gIRH2ocRNvE/s400/IMG_3836.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5439244666686207010" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/S3wUL-1D6UI/AAAAAAAACDE/5YFzn6ql7Gk/s1600-h/IMG_3820.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/S3wUL-1D6UI/AAAAAAAACDE/5YFzn6ql7Gk/s400/IMG_3820.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5439244646033385794" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Last year, my relative had the similar breed of dog just that it was much bigger. So much huger n beautiful but it died months ago due to suffocation. I missed it badly. I never believed in love at first sight but trust me, I met it only once n grew feelings for it. So that day, we went to my uncle's place n I was so looking forward to seeing it again but....&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/S3wQvrI9xWI/AAAAAAAACCk/rCpa_is9Eiw/s1600-h/IMG_3793.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/S3wQvrI9xWI/AAAAAAAACCk/rCpa_is9Eiw/s400/IMG_3793.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5439240861176939874" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/S3wQv2X3uKI/AAAAAAAACCs/3pBGiBgXZs0/s1600-h/IMG_3795.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/S3wQv2X3uKI/AAAAAAAACCs/3pBGiBgXZs0/s400/IMG_3795.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5439240864192247970" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/S3wULawkVLI/AAAAAAAACC0/7MluprIuzzA/s1600-h/IMG_3797.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/S3wULawkVLI/AAAAAAAACC0/7MluprIuzzA/s400/IMG_3797.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5439244636350862514" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;this dog here wasn't the same as the one I loved. It was so huge n white!! I cried badly cos I missed it so much. Thank u Royboy for being there. Wellz&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/S3wULnXHAXI/AAAAAAAACC8/hjaqlihprls/s1600-h/IMG_3804-.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 299px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/S3wULnXHAXI/AAAAAAAACC8/hjaqlihprls/s400/IMG_3804-.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5439244639733743986" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Bf n I sang karaoke, it changed my mood better. Then headed back to uncle's place to gamble with all my cousin's friends. In the day, we already went for the lion dance&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/S3wU6MK8k-I/AAAAAAAACDc/LOiqHzDQiuc/s1600-h/IMG_3871.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/S3wU6MK8k-I/AAAAAAAACDc/LOiqHzDQiuc/s400/IMG_3871.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5439245439888823266" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/S3wUNuM0fEI/AAAAAAAACDU/wDhaKkKP4jk/s1600-h/IMG_3849.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/S3wUNuM0fEI/AAAAAAAACDU/wDhaKkKP4jk/s400/IMG_3849.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5439244675929373762" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/S3wWuJzs7vI/AAAAAAAACEM/gHnZjkyY5JI/s1600-h/IMG_3897-.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 299px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/S3wWuJzs7vI/AAAAAAAACEM/gHnZjkyY5JI/s400/IMG_3897-.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5439247432119283442" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/S3wWtyI8lCI/AAAAAAAACEE/xF2kTreIBTA/s1600-h/IMG_3910.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/S3wWtyI8lCI/AAAAAAAACEE/xF2kTreIBTA/s400/IMG_3910.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5439247425765938210" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/S3wWtmi2rPI/AAAAAAAACD8/n8SHXGCtxjI/s1600-h/IMG_3898.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/S3wWtmi2rPI/AAAAAAAACD8/n8SHXGCtxjI/s400/IMG_3898.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5439247422653377778" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/S3wU7COdh0I/AAAAAAAACD0/RWL-lFEcC7Y/s1600-h/IMG_3875.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 299px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/S3wU7COdh0I/AAAAAAAACD0/RWL-lFEcC7Y/s400/IMG_3875.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5439245454399080258" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/S3wU6rRmV4I/AAAAAAAACDk/gajKK6ivMcs/s1600-h/IMG_3873.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/S3wU6rRmV4I/AAAAAAAACDk/gajKK6ivMcs/s400/IMG_3873.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5439245448238225282" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/S3wU6_kCKGI/AAAAAAAACDs/kltHGXznYM4/s1600-h/IMG_3874.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/S3wU6_kCKGI/AAAAAAAACDs/kltHGXznYM4/s400/IMG_3874.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5439245453684254818" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Past 2 nights, we spent time till 6am each. Our heads were throbbing in pain but it was all fun times. I miss my sillyhead already!!!!!!!1 Gd-night to allll&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/197971195958503036-7437272925807501163?l=bugfordinner.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bugfordinner.blogspot.com/feeds/7437272925807501163/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=197971195958503036&amp;postID=7437272925807501163&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/197971195958503036/posts/default/7437272925807501163'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/197971195958503036/posts/default/7437272925807501163'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bugfordinner.blogspot.com/2010/02/dong-qiang-dong-qiang-ive-always-loved.html' title=''/><author><name>Anthea (born c'92)</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09682674126991182155</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/TSMZT7tN7yI/AAAAAAAACSA/pOgOpTzZMmA/S220/155131_466084780414_619890414_5844925_3617531_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/S3wPNFfoSCI/AAAAAAAACB0/RNR4LXWKYYs/s72-c/IMG_3766.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-197971195958503036.post-393252545520971045</id><published>2010-02-14T01:20:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-02-13T09:27:48.378-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Hey, it's 14th feb. Happy valentine's! The weather these days have been really bad. Cannot tahan. Steamboat earlier on was mad crazy like we're all saunaing while eating. My lips bled yesterday. So today, Royboy brought a very huge bottle of barley drink from home. It was rather a punishment though. 'Cause I was supposed to drink 5 cups of water yesterday but had only 2. I miss the rain. Always feel nice in the cold weather, with bf around. Hmm the bad thing is I do get grumpy during wet weather too. I'll tend to play all the sad songs, and pretend to be lonely n sorrowful. Bf doesn't like that though, he'll try all ways to crack me up. He doesn't like me to be grumpy, but I am like that almost twice a day..... Visiting at Nicole's on the 20th? Happy girls&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/S3baHOL1rQI/AAAAAAAAB9U/XvsGMdXmnv0/s1600-h/IMG_3551.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/S3baHOL1rQI/AAAAAAAAB9U/XvsGMdXmnv0/s400/IMG_3551.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5437773417698143490" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/S3bZYsIu7VI/AAAAAAAAB88/TXlp6w9ehmI/s1600-h/IMG_3508.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/S3bZYsIu7VI/AAAAAAAAB88/TXlp6w9ehmI/s400/IMG_3508.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5437772618284330322" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/S3baG6S9GyI/AAAAAAAAB9M/C0awsGMuZNE/s1600-h/IMG_3547.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/S3baG6S9GyI/AAAAAAAAB9M/C0awsGMuZNE/s400/IMG_3547.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5437773412359281442" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/S3baGTb6R7I/AAAAAAAAB9E/bwKoutH4K-E/s1600-h/IMG_3524.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/S3baGTb6R7I/AAAAAAAAB9E/bwKoutH4K-E/s400/IMG_3524.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5437773401927862194" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Will be here again when I decide to write about the sky again?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/197971195958503036-393252545520971045?l=bugfordinner.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bugfordinner.blogspot.com/feeds/393252545520971045/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=197971195958503036&amp;postID=393252545520971045&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/197971195958503036/posts/default/393252545520971045'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/197971195958503036/posts/default/393252545520971045'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bugfordinner.blogspot.com/2010/02/hey-its-14th-feb.html' title=''/><author><name>Anthea (born c'92)</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09682674126991182155</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/TSMZT7tN7yI/AAAAAAAACSA/pOgOpTzZMmA/S220/155131_466084780414_619890414_5844925_3617531_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/S3baHOL1rQI/AAAAAAAAB9U/XvsGMdXmnv0/s72-c/IMG_3551.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-197971195958503036.post-5654960964033143532</id><published>2010-02-14T01:12:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-02-13T09:30:52.254-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/S3baHoxum7I/AAAAAAAAB9c/h6dyjtyafxc/s1600-h/IMG_34780.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 299px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/S3baHoxum7I/AAAAAAAAB9c/h6dyjtyafxc/s400/IMG_34780.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5437773424836385714" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Harnahhh wo dong hen fatcheeks lah, kan se mo&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/S3bZYZxGqwI/AAAAAAAAB80/H6dOpA0u2mk/s1600-h/IMG_3494.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/S3bZYZxGqwI/AAAAAAAAB80/H6dOpA0u2mk/s400/IMG_3494.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5437772613353384706" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;A family of hamburgers.......&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/S3bZX9eEVKI/AAAAAAAAB8s/9Z3dqwrJemY/s1600-h/IMG_3502.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/S3bZX9eEVKI/AAAAAAAAB8s/9Z3dqwrJemY/s400/IMG_3502.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5437772605757346978" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/S3bZXXHXr4I/AAAAAAAAB8k/M0wvVUmsTLY/s1600-h/IMG_3486.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/S3bZXXHXr4I/AAAAAAAAB8k/M0wvVUmsTLY/s400/IMG_3486.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5437772595461599106" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/S3bZXL5aFtI/AAAAAAAAB8c/IH9Q4IMN2Pw/s1600-h/IMG_3481.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/S3bZXL5aFtI/AAAAAAAAB8c/IH9Q4IMN2Pw/s400/IMG_3481.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5437772592450246354" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/197971195958503036-5654960964033143532?l=bugfordinner.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bugfordinner.blogspot.com/feeds/5654960964033143532/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=197971195958503036&amp;postID=5654960964033143532&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/197971195958503036/posts/default/5654960964033143532'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/197971195958503036/posts/default/5654960964033143532'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bugfordinner.blogspot.com/2010/02/family-of-hamburgers.html' title=''/><author><name>Anthea (born c'92)</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09682674126991182155</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/TSMZT7tN7yI/AAAAAAAACSA/pOgOpTzZMmA/S220/155131_466084780414_619890414_5844925_3617531_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/S3baHoxum7I/AAAAAAAAB9c/h6dyjtyafxc/s72-c/IMG_34780.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-197971195958503036.post-3542691686022189803</id><published>2010-02-11T15:28:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-02-10T23:28:42.852-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I started my day with a turkey breast sub. Stayed up the whole night to do some writing, but got woken up by 2 guys who were here to install the mio tv service this morning. Sheesh, I pulled up my blanket to cover my entire head n heard 'em chuckling away. Don't really have the motivation to do anything today, since the weather has already killed me instantly while going for a walk earlier on. I have currently a few jobs in hand, but wonder if I should focus solely on my studies. Hmm?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Eat, laugh, sleep, fun at supermarkets. These are what I do everyday, with the most cheekiest boyfriend. &lt;span class="words"&gt;Be annoying, be quirky, be different. Days ago, we chanced upon a little boy with a mushroom haircut in the supermarket. I was making&lt;/span&gt; funny faces at him, while Royboy danced pink panther to him. He began to shout for mom n after continuous chasing n disturbing, he cried like we're ugly monsters&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Have a beautiful day. Love, Anthea&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/197971195958503036-3542691686022189803?l=bugfordinner.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bugfordinner.blogspot.com/feeds/3542691686022189803/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=197971195958503036&amp;postID=3542691686022189803&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/197971195958503036/posts/default/3542691686022189803'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/197971195958503036/posts/default/3542691686022189803'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bugfordinner.blogspot.com/2010/02/i-started-my-day-with-turkey-breast-sub.html' title=''/><author><name>Anthea (born c'92)</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09682674126991182155</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/TSMZT7tN7yI/AAAAAAAACSA/pOgOpTzZMmA/S220/155131_466084780414_619890414_5844925_3617531_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-197971195958503036.post-4646962740748883674</id><published>2010-02-07T03:11:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2010-02-07T08:21:41.779-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/S26h72AlliI/AAAAAAAAB5s/0hYeabiJuQQ/s1600-h/IMG_32610.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 299px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/S26h72AlliI/AAAAAAAAB5s/0hYeabiJuQQ/s400/IMG_32610.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5435459849765099042" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/S26h82cztEI/AAAAAAAAB6E/U-aM2MHETz4/s1600-h/IMG_33080.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 299px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/S26h82cztEI/AAAAAAAAB6E/U-aM2MHETz4/s400/IMG_33080.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5435459867063333954" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/S26lGugG-_I/AAAAAAAAB6M/TsbMlQ8dJ6A/s1600-h/IMG_33140.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 299px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/S26lGugG-_I/AAAAAAAAB6M/TsbMlQ8dJ6A/s400/IMG_33140.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5435463335263271922" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/S26h8SXKaUI/AAAAAAAAB58/i1oTZgUnPsI/s1600-h/IMG_3320.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/S26h8SXKaUI/AAAAAAAAB58/i1oTZgUnPsI/s400/IMG_3320.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5435459857375979842" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/S26h7bR5iwI/AAAAAAAAB5k/zGS6ueH0WCk/s1600-h/IMG_3299.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/S26h7bR5iwI/AAAAAAAAB5k/zGS6ueH0WCk/s400/IMG_3299.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5435459842589952770" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/S26h8cs0UBI/AAAAAAAAB50/lTWM8RTxva4/s1600-h/IMG_3304.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/S26h8cs0UBI/AAAAAAAAB50/lTWM8RTxva4/s400/IMG_3304.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5435459860151160850" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Every day spent with you is a blessing. Every moment shared with you is a happiness. Every single thing we do together is a joy&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/S26mNDTwBtI/AAAAAAAAB60/SxcyMjFfJg4/s1600-h/IMG_3344.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/S26mNDTwBtI/AAAAAAAAB60/SxcyMjFfJg4/s400/IMG_3344.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5435464543439423186" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/S26mODsKsnI/AAAAAAAAB7M/2SFmplqm_ns/s1600-h/IMG_3371.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/S26mODsKsnI/AAAAAAAAB7M/2SFmplqm_ns/s400/IMG_3371.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5435464560721703538" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/S26mOKAXnwI/AAAAAAAAB7E/mFLBn1nu6Yw/s1600-h/IMG_3370.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/S26mOKAXnwI/AAAAAAAAB7E/mFLBn1nu6Yw/s400/IMG_3370.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5435464562417049346" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/S26mNrsGBdI/AAAAAAAAB68/XFY57dFNpxQ/s1600-h/IMG_3397.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/S26mNrsGBdI/AAAAAAAAB68/XFY57dFNpxQ/s400/IMG_3397.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5435464554278946258" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/S26lIt1teEI/AAAAAAAAB6s/nJSGyNuHGMs/s1600-h/IMG_33540.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 299px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/S26lIt1teEI/AAAAAAAAB6s/nJSGyNuHGMs/s400/IMG_33540.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5435463369445177410" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/S26lIDhjsHI/AAAAAAAAB6k/Ht15vmrxRvw/s1600-h/IMG_33350.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 299px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/S26lIDhjsHI/AAAAAAAAB6k/Ht15vmrxRvw/s400/IMG_33350.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5435463358086361202" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/S26pYGmTBfI/AAAAAAAAB8M/Rl_mOF2bJcc/s1600-h/IMG_3391.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/S26pYGmTBfI/AAAAAAAAB8M/Rl_mOF2bJcc/s400/IMG_3391.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5435468031835964914" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/S26pXiqKCbI/AAAAAAAAB8E/YVmyfnoapBI/s1600-h/IMG_3390.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/S26pXiqKCbI/AAAAAAAAB8E/YVmyfnoapBI/s400/IMG_3390.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5435468022188476850" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/S26mOgwCM2I/AAAAAAAAB7U/OefJ2RevSd4/s1600-h/IMG_3430.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/S26mOgwCM2I/AAAAAAAAB7U/OefJ2RevSd4/s400/IMG_3430.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5435464568522552162" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/S26msQ3v81I/AAAAAAAAB7c/T_k1sAZwsXs/s1600-h/IMG_3431.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/S26msQ3v81I/AAAAAAAAB7c/T_k1sAZwsXs/s400/IMG_3431.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5435465079656018770" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/S26msvJALDI/AAAAAAAAB7k/S71n0Bugt0w/s1600-h/IMG_3432.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/S26msvJALDI/AAAAAAAAB7k/S71n0Bugt0w/s400/IMG_3432.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5435465087781448754" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/S26ms6QUJLI/AAAAAAAAB7s/NkUJDpXCaBs/s1600-h/IMG_3436.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/S26ms6QUJLI/AAAAAAAAB7s/NkUJDpXCaBs/s400/IMG_3436.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5435465090764907698" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/S26lHSRvamI/AAAAAAAAB6U/lGHI9a4oyMI/s1600-h/IMG_3321.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/S26lHSRvamI/AAAAAAAAB6U/lGHI9a4oyMI/s400/IMG_3321.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5435463344866683490" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/S26lHuyza4I/AAAAAAAAB6c/Wbdw8MlavVY/s1600-h/IMG_3322.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/S26lHuyza4I/AAAAAAAAB6c/Wbdw8MlavVY/s400/IMG_3322.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5435463352521550722" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/S26mtvSDcXI/AAAAAAAAB78/UpZZtQuX_CA/s1600-h/IMG_3442.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/S26mtvSDcXI/AAAAAAAAB78/UpZZtQuX_CA/s400/IMG_3442.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5435465104999281010" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Life has been a crazy roller coaster for me in the past month but things seem to be leveling out again. Getting better everyday, with the bf's presence. He has brought so much laughter n fun in the family. Chinese new year is soon n I can get angpows plus endless indulgence of bakkwa! I am no longer halal okey......&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/197971195958503036-4646962740748883674?l=bugfordinner.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bugfordinner.blogspot.com/feeds/4646962740748883674/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=197971195958503036&amp;postID=4646962740748883674&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/197971195958503036/posts/default/4646962740748883674'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/197971195958503036/posts/default/4646962740748883674'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bugfordinner.blogspot.com/2010/02/blog-post.html' title=''/><author><name>Anthea (born c'92)</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09682674126991182155</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/TSMZT7tN7yI/AAAAAAAACSA/pOgOpTzZMmA/S220/155131_466084780414_619890414_5844925_3617531_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/S26h72AlliI/AAAAAAAAB5s/0hYeabiJuQQ/s72-c/IMG_32610.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-197971195958503036.post-6332398147655712509</id><published>2010-02-03T20:03:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-02-03T04:19:18.038-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/S2lmCJFz-RI/AAAAAAAAB5U/Hsk9sxjOkaE/s1600-h/IMG_3206.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/S2lmCJFz-RI/AAAAAAAAB5U/Hsk9sxjOkaE/s400/IMG_3206.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5433986612385282322" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Today, we couldn't find the car. Stupidest moment ever!! Walked round n round the carpark for a good 45 minutes, we perspired like gundu! Afterwards, both of us see stars above our head n &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;tao gong gong&lt;/span&gt; already, then realized that we got to the wrong level. The whole thing was frustrating, dispiriting, and even a little bit exhilarating and fun. I kept laughing at some point cos I couldn't walk properly. Royboy was so mad cos he was wearing long sleeve, plus he was carrying all my shopping bags. We finally went to the next level, and once we got into the car, I began to ZzzZzz all the way till our next destination. Hahahah what an experience&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We are so drained from all the walking n laughing, yet my poor little thing is at class right now. While the grumpy pumpkin (me) is online shopping n watching [Hi my Sweetheart] &lt;hi&gt; fucking retarded show!! Waiting 4 the bravest boy to end class so we could have supper together............&lt;/hi&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/197971195958503036-6332398147655712509?l=bugfordinner.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bugfordinner.blogspot.com/feeds/6332398147655712509/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=197971195958503036&amp;postID=6332398147655712509&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/197971195958503036/posts/default/6332398147655712509'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/197971195958503036/posts/default/6332398147655712509'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bugfordinner.blogspot.com/2010/02/today-we-couldnt-find-car.html' title=''/><author><name>Anthea (born c'92)</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09682674126991182155</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/TSMZT7tN7yI/AAAAAAAACSA/pOgOpTzZMmA/S220/155131_466084780414_619890414_5844925_3617531_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/S2lmCJFz-RI/AAAAAAAAB5U/Hsk9sxjOkaE/s72-c/IMG_3206.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-197971195958503036.post-8188142464442321405</id><published>2010-02-02T01:03:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-02-01T09:03:02.337-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>What I miss most, besides having a warm body to lean against at night and the small sounds you make when you move between dreams, is the way you push your fingers through my hair and tap my nose so it’ll scrunch up and you kiss my forehead. X&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/197971195958503036-8188142464442321405?l=bugfordinner.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bugfordinner.blogspot.com/feeds/8188142464442321405/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=197971195958503036&amp;postID=8188142464442321405&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/197971195958503036/posts/default/8188142464442321405'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/197971195958503036/posts/default/8188142464442321405'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bugfordinner.blogspot.com/2010/02/what-i-miss-most-besides-having-warm.html' title=''/><author><name>Anthea (born c'92)</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09682674126991182155</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/TSMZT7tN7yI/AAAAAAAACSA/pOgOpTzZMmA/S220/155131_466084780414_619890414_5844925_3617531_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-197971195958503036.post-7851863365803561964</id><published>2010-01-31T04:23:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-01-30T12:26:00.898-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Uploading all the pix in hand, while waiting for my hair to dry up......... :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;ul style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;li&gt;A casual dinner with the family&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/S2SHiNLOXCI/AAAAAAAAB0k/dEge6rGEIk8/s1600-h/IMG_2823.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/S2SHiNLOXCI/AAAAAAAAB0k/dEge6rGEIk8/s400/IMG_2823.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5432616072237702178" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/S2SGziTATdI/AAAAAAAABz0/AOqY_eeSo2U/s1600-h/IMG_2792.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/S2SGziTATdI/AAAAAAAABz0/AOqY_eeSo2U/s400/IMG_2792.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5432615270453628370" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/S2SG0DnQQ5I/AAAAAAAABz8/Phj-BIdSgTw/s1600-h/IMG_2793.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/S2SG0DnQQ5I/AAAAAAAABz8/Phj-BIdSgTw/s400/IMG_2793.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5432615279396930450" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/S2SG0nzJkEI/AAAAAAAAB0E/NbfPi87QM5w/s1600-h/IMG_2796.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/S2SG0nzJkEI/AAAAAAAAB0E/NbfPi87QM5w/s400/IMG_2796.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5432615289110499394" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/S2SG1DO8rVI/AAAAAAAAB0M/zEmVwIMernY/s1600-h/IMG_2797.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/S2SG1DO8rVI/AAAAAAAAB0M/zEmVwIMernY/s400/IMG_2797.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5432615296474852690" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/S2SG1qGep5I/AAAAAAAAB0U/yxRjiGBaqKw/s1600-h/IMG_2802.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/S2SG1qGep5I/AAAAAAAAB0U/yxRjiGBaqKw/s400/IMG_2802.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5432615306908313490" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/S2SHhv7t1OI/AAAAAAAAB0c/RGi10qux0Dg/s1600-h/IMG_2817.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/S2SHhv7t1OI/AAAAAAAAB0c/RGi10qux0Dg/s400/IMG_2817.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5432616064388027618" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/197971195958503036-7851863365803561964?l=bugfordinner.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bugfordinner.blogspot.com/feeds/7851863365803561964/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=197971195958503036&amp;postID=7851863365803561964&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/197971195958503036/posts/default/7851863365803561964'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/197971195958503036/posts/default/7851863365803561964'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bugfordinner.blogspot.com/2010/01/blog-post.html' title=''/><author><name>Anthea (born c'92)</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09682674126991182155</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/TSMZT7tN7yI/AAAAAAAACSA/pOgOpTzZMmA/S220/155131_466084780414_619890414_5844925_3617531_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/S2SHiNLOXCI/AAAAAAAAB0k/dEge6rGEIk8/s72-c/IMG_2823.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-197971195958503036.post-6761636089311162768</id><published>2010-01-31T04:03:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-01-30T12:32:03.054-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/S2SM90fDY_I/AAAAAAAAB3E/KhcyYpcP44w/s1600-h/IMG_2975.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/S2SM90fDY_I/AAAAAAAAB3E/KhcyYpcP44w/s400/IMG_2975.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5432622044204458994" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;On a night, both of us had this unhappy issue going on. But, the sweetheart appeared at doorstep in the morning with a lovely sunflower and huge letter&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/S2SNZVnTJYI/AAAAAAAAB4M/wd6vb27YBbA/s1600-h/IMG_3038.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/S2SNZVnTJYI/AAAAAAAAB4M/wd6vb27YBbA/s400/IMG_3038.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5432622516953884034" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/S2SNYtZIIFI/AAAAAAAAB38/-lvJ7j3F6KM/s1600-h/IMG_3016.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/S2SNYtZIIFI/AAAAAAAAB38/-lvJ7j3F6KM/s400/IMG_3016.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5432622506157023314" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/S2SNZCWD7zI/AAAAAAAAB4E/yuEnWMyceIw/s1600-h/IMG_3024.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/S2SNZCWD7zI/AAAAAAAAB4E/yuEnWMyceIw/s400/IMG_3024.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5432622511781310258" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Wait for the person who pursues you, the one who will make an ordinary moment seem magical, the kind of person who brings out the best in you and makes you want to be a better person&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/S2SM_G78YxI/AAAAAAAAB3c/ypUd0m_7R3c/s1600-h/IMG_2981.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/S2SM_G78YxI/AAAAAAAAB3c/ypUd0m_7R3c/s400/IMG_2981.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5432622066337342226" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/S2SM_d6OK8I/AAAAAAAAB3k/A9GzmOHKWd8/s1600-h/IMG_2986.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/S2SM_d6OK8I/AAAAAAAAB3k/A9GzmOHKWd8/s400/IMG_2986.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5432622072504134594" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/S2SNX2HZMDI/AAAAAAAAB3s/Jnu0Anu_ayQ/s1600-h/IMG_2989.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/S2SNX2HZMDI/AAAAAAAAB3s/Jnu0Anu_ayQ/s400/IMG_2989.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5432622491318693938" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Wait for the person who will be your best friend, the only person who will drop everything to be with you at any time no matter what the circumstances&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/S2SNYeBVGNI/AAAAAAAAB30/ZvsMopyxQq8/s1600-h/IMG_2992.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/S2SNYeBVGNI/AAAAAAAAB30/ZvsMopyxQq8/s400/IMG_2992.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5432622502030678226" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/S2SQxrNtGxI/AAAAAAAAB4U/acMzzTDv1VA/s1600-h/IMG_3039.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/S2SQxrNtGxI/AAAAAAAAB4U/acMzzTDv1VA/s400/IMG_3039.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5432626233603857170" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;The person who makes you smile like no one else and when they smile,&lt;br /&gt;you know they need you&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/S2SM-r5EojI/AAAAAAAAB3U/dnGK3TZ6xEc/s1600-h/IMG_2994-h.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 298px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/S2SM-r5EojI/AAAAAAAAB3U/dnGK3TZ6xEc/s400/IMG_2994-h.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5432622059077542450" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/S2SM-Yt5vRI/AAAAAAAAB3M/VQln1ZxVwFs/s1600-h/IMG_3012-h.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 298px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/S2SM-Yt5vRI/AAAAAAAAB3M/VQln1ZxVwFs/s400/IMG_3012-h.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5432622053930417426" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Wait for the person who wants to show you off to the world when you are in sweats and a T-shirt, but appreciates it when you get dressed up for them&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/S2SQyKjiKaI/AAAAAAAAB4c/LGgwd_wMZyw/s1600-h/IMG_3060.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/S2SQyKjiKaI/AAAAAAAAB4c/LGgwd_wMZyw/s400/IMG_3060.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5432626242016913826" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;And most of all, wait for the person who will put you up at the center of his universe&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/S2SQytSL2zI/AAAAAAAAB4k/gavoi-rh7AY/s1600-h/IMG_3063.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/S2SQytSL2zI/AAAAAAAAB4k/gavoi-rh7AY/s400/IMG_3063.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5432626251339389746" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;I have found that person :)&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/197971195958503036-6761636089311162768?l=bugfordinner.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bugfordinner.blogspot.com/feeds/6761636089311162768/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=197971195958503036&amp;postID=6761636089311162768&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/197971195958503036/posts/default/6761636089311162768'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/197971195958503036/posts/default/6761636089311162768'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bugfordinner.blogspot.com/2010/01/on-night-both-of-us-had-this-unhappy.html' title=''/><author><name>Anthea (born c'92)</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09682674126991182155</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/TSMZT7tN7yI/AAAAAAAACSA/pOgOpTzZMmA/S220/155131_466084780414_619890414_5844925_3617531_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/S2SM90fDY_I/AAAAAAAAB3E/KhcyYpcP44w/s72-c/IMG_2975.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-197971195958503036.post-2738166349919794645</id><published>2010-01-31T03:52:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-01-04T06:03:03.095-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/S2SKJ0YjJZI/AAAAAAAAB2s/7o100u7pws8/s400/IMG_2958.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5432618951800726930" border="0" /&gt;No relationship is perfect, ever.  There are always some ways you have to bend,  to compromise, to give something up  in order to gain something greater&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/S2SKQ8McGtI/AAAAAAAAB20/vR2u8jrEvko/s1600-h/IMG_2961.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/S2SKQ8McGtI/AAAAAAAAB20/vR2u8jrEvko/s400/IMG_2961.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5432619074156501714" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;The love we have for each other is bigger  than these small differences&lt;br /&gt;And that’s the key (L)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/S2SKRb2LI4I/AAAAAAAAB28/BZ4vzwqCYho/s1600-h/IMG_2965.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/S2SKRb2LI4I/AAAAAAAAB28/BZ4vzwqCYho/s400/IMG_2965.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5432619082653049730" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;It’s like a big pie chart,  and the love in a relationship has to be the biggest piece&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/S2SKJgoFsMI/AAAAAAAAB2k/iu8qFEXyVks/s1600-h/IMG_2940.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/S2SKJgoFsMI/AAAAAAAAB2k/iu8qFEXyVks/s400/IMG_2940.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5432618946497196226" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Love can make up for a lot&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/197971195958503036-2738166349919794645?l=bugfordinner.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bugfordinner.blogspot.com/feeds/2738166349919794645/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=197971195958503036&amp;postID=2738166349919794645&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/197971195958503036/posts/default/2738166349919794645'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/197971195958503036/posts/default/2738166349919794645'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bugfordinner.blogspot.com/2010/01/no-relationship-is-perfect-ever.html' title=''/><author><name>Anthea (born c'92)</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09682674126991182155</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/TSMZT7tN7yI/AAAAAAAACSA/pOgOpTzZMmA/S220/155131_466084780414_619890414_5844925_3617531_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/S2SKJ0YjJZI/AAAAAAAAB2s/7o100u7pws8/s72-c/IMG_2958.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-197971195958503036.post-2128981280068010263</id><published>2010-01-31T03:38:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-01-30T12:32:31.274-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/S2SIi2LQGAI/AAAAAAAAB08/xYbFpbCbtIk/s1600-h/IMG_2848.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/S2SIi2LQGAI/AAAAAAAAB08/xYbFpbCbtIk/s400/IMG_2848.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5432617182755297282" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/S2SIjEu4jAI/AAAAAAAAB1E/Sx03QGyT69M/s1600-h/IMG_2854.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/S2SIjEu4jAI/AAAAAAAAB1E/Sx03QGyT69M/s400/IMG_2854.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5432617186662845442" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/S2SIh8AuRxI/AAAAAAAAB0s/Gb7hlBs4uaU/s1600-h/IMG_2840.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/S2SIh8AuRxI/AAAAAAAAB0s/Gb7hlBs4uaU/s400/IMG_2840.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5432617167141881618" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/S2SIiTY2NfI/AAAAAAAAB00/Q7-9ST6Ic0U/s1600-h/IMG_2841.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/S2SIiTY2NfI/AAAAAAAAB00/Q7-9ST6Ic0U/s400/IMG_2841.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5432617173417080306" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/S2SIjuVV2BI/AAAAAAAAB1M/O9m5gpE-xos/s1600-h/IMG_2865.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/S2SIjuVV2BI/AAAAAAAAB1M/O9m5gpE-xos/s400/IMG_2865.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5432617197830002706" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/S2SJGebCUQI/AAAAAAAAB1U/tLsuk3QmkGc/s1600-h/IMG_2878.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/S2SJGebCUQI/AAAAAAAAB1U/tLsuk3QmkGc/s400/IMG_2878.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5432617794854342914" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/S2SJGebCUQI/AAAAAAAAB1U/tLsuk3QmkGc/s1600-h/IMG_2878.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/S2SJGuBmLjI/AAAAAAAAB1c/pRLwg6EVVHM/s400/IMG_2880.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5432617799042608690" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/S2SJHD1OI9I/AAAAAAAAB1k/cvW7DVmkFYU/s1600-h/IMG_2883.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/S2SJHD1OI9I/AAAAAAAAB1k/cvW7DVmkFYU/s400/IMG_2883.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5432617804896281554" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/S2SJHYJL2_I/AAAAAAAAB1s/IFNW_xms3x8/s1600-h/IMG_2888.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/S2SJHYJL2_I/AAAAAAAAB1s/IFNW_xms3x8/s400/IMG_2888.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5432617810348727282" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/S2SJHg1q4MI/AAAAAAAAB10/KPCuA6v7nL4/s1600-h/IMG_2901.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/S2SJHg1q4MI/AAAAAAAAB10/KPCuA6v7nL4/s400/IMG_2901.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5432617812682793154" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/S2SJUlg2VTI/AAAAAAAAB2E/pNb_8dPkMVA/s1600-h/IMG_2906.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/S2SJUlg2VTI/AAAAAAAAB2E/pNb_8dPkMVA/s400/IMG_2906.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5432618037275940146" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/S2SJUHuLTrI/AAAAAAAAB18/Hhk3I7W0Tgc/s1600-h/IMG_2905.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/S2SJUHuLTrI/AAAAAAAAB18/Hhk3I7W0Tgc/s400/IMG_2905.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5432618029278777010" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/197971195958503036-2128981280068010263?l=bugfordinner.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bugfordinner.blogspot.com/feeds/2128981280068010263/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=197971195958503036&amp;postID=2128981280068010263&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/197971195958503036/posts/default/2128981280068010263'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/197971195958503036/posts/default/2128981280068010263'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bugfordinner.blogspot.com/2010/01/blog-post_30.html' title=''/><author><name>Anthea (born c'92)</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09682674126991182155</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/TSMZT7tN7yI/AAAAAAAACSA/pOgOpTzZMmA/S220/155131_466084780414_619890414_5844925_3617531_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/S2SIi2LQGAI/AAAAAAAAB08/xYbFpbCbtIk/s72-c/IMG_2848.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-197971195958503036.post-2190362271930304532</id><published>2010-01-31T03:25:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-01-30T12:28:46.285-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;ul style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;li&gt;Teabreak at Ikea&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/S2SR-qwtd2I/AAAAAAAAB40/FOdLIYOtHM0/s1600-h/IMG_3119.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/S2SR-qwtd2I/AAAAAAAAB40/FOdLIYOtHM0/s400/IMG_3119.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5432627556332173154" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/S2SR_RgpECI/AAAAAAAAB5E/LxQWXfJhJAs/s1600-h/IMG_3132.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/S2SR_RgpECI/AAAAAAAAB5E/LxQWXfJhJAs/s400/IMG_3132.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5432627566733758498" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/S2SR_Oa0MLI/AAAAAAAAB48/Qrom9boHpH4/s1600-h/IMG_3130.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/S2SR_Oa0MLI/AAAAAAAAB48/Qrom9boHpH4/s400/IMG_3130.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5432627565904015538" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/S2SR-HmVXnI/AAAAAAAAB4s/sJkkqV_Iiw8/s1600-h/IMG_3101.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/S2SR-HmVXnI/AAAAAAAAB4s/sJkkqV_Iiw8/s400/IMG_3101.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5432627546893409906" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/197971195958503036-2190362271930304532?l=bugfordinner.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bugfordinner.blogspot.com/feeds/2190362271930304532/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=197971195958503036&amp;postID=2190362271930304532&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/197971195958503036/posts/default/2190362271930304532'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/197971195958503036/posts/default/2190362271930304532'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bugfordinner.blogspot.com/2010/01/teabreak-at-ikea.html' title=''/><author><name>Anthea (born c'92)</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09682674126991182155</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/TSMZT7tN7yI/AAAAAAAACSA/pOgOpTzZMmA/S220/155131_466084780414_619890414_5844925_3617531_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/S2SR-qwtd2I/AAAAAAAAB40/FOdLIYOtHM0/s72-c/IMG_3119.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-197971195958503036.post-8273039183879253965</id><published>2010-01-27T23:07:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-01-27T07:24:07.228-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>today:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;morning:&lt;/span&gt; no longer upset over royboy even though he fell asleep on me the night before. sent him a long message about how sad i was. he was so panicked he sent 2 long messages in the morning hahahah&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;fruity pebbles 'n' banana crunch for breakfast&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;noon:&lt;/span&gt; watched tv with daddykins. had much laughter over lunch, we kept exchanging food. then he went off to zzz&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;did some reading on the bed with fave songs on repeat&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;had migraine the whole afternoon&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;night:&lt;/span&gt; royboy came over and went to dinner, together with mommy&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;promised never to read while lying down, and esp in the dark&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;came back home and snuggle on the couch. lay on my lap while he talks about his day. we discussed about 'friends' as well. disappointments&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;tomorrow:&lt;br /&gt;royboy's getting off again so he is taking me to the movies!&lt;br /&gt;overall, today was another awesome day. we did not see each other for 42 hours and it felt like months! the hugs were all nice, i love especially the way he laughs wholeheartedly. such a kid. i actually wanted to entice him to go for class tonight, but again, he's adamant enuff' about his decision so i couldn't do anything as well. the naughty one has not been going for class!! pls be good, starting from next week. okie&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/197971195958503036-8273039183879253965?l=bugfordinner.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bugfordinner.blogspot.com/feeds/8273039183879253965/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=197971195958503036&amp;postID=8273039183879253965&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/197971195958503036/posts/default/8273039183879253965'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/197971195958503036/posts/default/8273039183879253965'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bugfordinner.blogspot.com/2010/01/today-morning-no-longer-upset-over.html' title=''/><author><name>Anthea (born c'92)</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09682674126991182155</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/TSMZT7tN7yI/AAAAAAAACSA/pOgOpTzZMmA/S220/155131_466084780414_619890414_5844925_3617531_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-197971195958503036.post-4310539514083267019</id><published>2010-01-27T13:41:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-01-26T21:59:52.073-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Life is all about making decisions and sacrificing. If the so-called good friends do not understand you, what's the point of having them around. Yesterday, one of my brothers talked some sense into me. He always makes his point clear that everyone in this world put on fake mask.&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; "You got to make a choice; either your boyfriend or your friends"&lt;/span&gt; I have met too many "friends" who are not true enough. I learnt that things that appear good on the outside don't always come that way&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She sees me differently now, and I guess I see her differently, too. Neither one of us likes the new view. There are a lot of things running through my mind, but I prefer not to say them out for some things are better left unsaid. My blog is looking really dull. Will post up pix soon! I miss my sweetheart, but he's getting out of camp tonight! Whee&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/197971195958503036-4310539514083267019?l=bugfordinner.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bugfordinner.blogspot.com/feeds/4310539514083267019/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=197971195958503036&amp;postID=4310539514083267019&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/197971195958503036/posts/default/4310539514083267019'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/197971195958503036/posts/default/4310539514083267019'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bugfordinner.blogspot.com/2010/01/life-is-all-about-making-decisions-and.html' title=''/><author><name>Anthea (born c'92)</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09682674126991182155</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/TSMZT7tN7yI/AAAAAAAACSA/pOgOpTzZMmA/S220/155131_466084780414_619890414_5844925_3617531_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-197971195958503036.post-8610609059069626659</id><published>2010-01-26T19:22:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2010-01-26T03:26:27.107-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Today was a nice day to start off with, even though the boyfriend's inside camp. Aarone wanted to visit g-ma. So since I have got no plans today, plus I haven't been seeing gramma for a while, I tagged along&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Around evening when we were on the way back, we saw this aunt at one corner beside the escalator. Everyone was surrounding her like as though they were watching some free show but none of them helped! I don't know if she fell or something, but her head was bleeding profusely, her clothes and hands were all stained with blood. I didn't have any tissue and no one bloody help in anything! Aarone called for the ambulance but it didn't come, we waited for quite awhile!! Fuck&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So we went to get the control station person-in-charge but she took her own sweet time to drag her fucking big ass. What's worse is she took the lift and even swing the butt like she's one queen! Fucked up. Heart ache to see the pitiful aunt being so helpless. From what I could see, she was already in subconscious state, with the shopping trolley beside her. I was so worried and sad that my hands were trembling. Selfish people&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/197971195958503036-8610609059069626659?l=bugfordinner.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bugfordinner.blogspot.com/feeds/8610609059069626659/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=197971195958503036&amp;postID=8610609059069626659&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/197971195958503036/posts/default/8610609059069626659'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/197971195958503036/posts/default/8610609059069626659'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bugfordinner.blogspot.com/2010/01/today-was-nice-day-to-start-off-with_26.html' title=''/><author><name>Anthea (born c'92)</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09682674126991182155</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/TSMZT7tN7yI/AAAAAAAACSA/pOgOpTzZMmA/S220/155131_466084780414_619890414_5844925_3617531_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-197971195958503036.post-3365049558350116419</id><published>2010-01-21T02:12:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-01-21T20:19:40.451-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Wednesday was spent with my 4 girl friends. My mood for that day wasn't good, obviously they knew it but I had tried to avoid letting my emotions take full control over myself. Reasons over why I was so affected were led by a lot of factors, sensitive ones indeed. I had a nice dinner with Miche, plus the laughter and whole bunch of interesting stories she told me. The last time we talked so much about everything was when we were still in school! Despite being so drained after a long day, boyfriend still came for a talk after his class. I can never express out my appreciation for him enough&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today, R popped up at my place at 1 o'clock. I was still in pjs. Haha he took off again just to spend time with me, cos he has been caught up with class, work and stuff. We had a little tiff, though. He went to his car for a breather, while I lay on my bed. Mom actually told me not to throw tantrums at him, cos he has been giving in so much, even Aarone told me that. I was sorry. Even though he's already mentally tired from the busy schedule he had, he is still spending as much time with me and my family. We had kfc, pretty full but we still headed for Astons after visiting August with durians and sushi. I felt happiness with them the whole evening. Dad talked about how he met Mom since primary sch. He went on and on, till Mom began to tear then we laughed. Firstly, she said her eyes tend to get real sensitive at night. Afterwards, she said the lights were making her tear. Hahahah. Well Roy and I thought that was sweet. Small thoughts. Clarity. Genuine love. Honest. It's been there all along. xoxo&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Every day, we face new problems, after one has been resolved. All these obstacles made us all the more stronger and this is rather unusual and unexpected to hear from me, but I'm beginning to love him more each day. At the end of the night, we would talk for at least an hour, about how we feel and such. We learnt new things about each other everyday, but I'm certain there's even more of us that we can learn about. I like the night. Without the night, we'd never see the stars. Not that I see much over at the west. But apart from seeing these little shining ones in the dark sky, I realized I express my feelings more at night&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I love you, not only for what you are, but for what I am when I am with you. I love you because you have done more than any creed could have done to make me good. And more than any fate could have done to make me happy. You have done it without a touch, without a word, without a sign. You have done it, by being yourself. X&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/197971195958503036-3365049558350116419?l=bugfordinner.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bugfordinner.blogspot.com/feeds/3365049558350116419/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=197971195958503036&amp;postID=3365049558350116419&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/197971195958503036/posts/default/3365049558350116419'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/197971195958503036/posts/default/3365049558350116419'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bugfordinner.blogspot.com/2010/01/wednesday-was-spent-with-my-4-girl.html' title=''/><author><name>Anthea (born c'92)</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09682674126991182155</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/TSMZT7tN7yI/AAAAAAAACSA/pOgOpTzZMmA/S220/155131_466084780414_619890414_5844925_3617531_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-197971195958503036.post-4446014756855999246</id><published>2010-01-19T23:38:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-01-19T07:38:58.464-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Today, Roy had his off day so he suggested to play L4D2, since Aarone was home too. I got out of the bed, and Roy reached in around 1/2 an hour's time. We had a lot of laughter, then we played a little of CS. Subway after killing a big bunch of zombies, but when we got back into the car, I got hungry again. We had dinner with my relatives and parents afterwards, before sending Aarone back to camp. I love the sweetheart.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/197971195958503036-4446014756855999246?l=bugfordinner.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bugfordinner.blogspot.com/feeds/4446014756855999246/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=197971195958503036&amp;postID=4446014756855999246&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/197971195958503036/posts/default/4446014756855999246'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/197971195958503036/posts/default/4446014756855999246'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bugfordinner.blogspot.com/2010/01/today-roy-had-his-off-day-so-he.html' title=''/><author><name>Anthea (born c'92)</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09682674126991182155</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/TSMZT7tN7yI/AAAAAAAACSA/pOgOpTzZMmA/S220/155131_466084780414_619890414_5844925_3617531_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-197971195958503036.post-5917065589538352232</id><published>2010-01-18T12:02:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-01-17T20:08:35.196-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/S1PY24kH8PI/AAAAAAAABzM/mZnhE0dGkpM/s1600-h/19569_250386786238_605066238_3340953_7146936_n.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/S1PY24kH8PI/AAAAAAAABzM/mZnhE0dGkpM/s400/19569_250386786238_605066238_3340953_7146936_n.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5427920413320016114" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Heard enuff of "you're finally legal". Isn't really something special to me, or to feel proud of. Turning 18 is not a big deal, everyone will experience that day, that grown-up feeling. It's just that we have to accept legal responsibilities, that maybe we didn't have to think about before. Or maybe some will deem turning 18 as the key to freedom. I do not smoke, do not frequent clubs, or any other legal activities, so I don't feel that it's something to be very proud of. In fact, I think that as I grow older, my responsibilities and commitment add on&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But thank you guys- Aarone Jack Dom Theo, my girls- Nicole Carrie Singyin Miche. For all the effort, truly appreciated. In the video, I mentioned to all of them "thank you for the effort, and time" I really meant it. Special thanks to my family, whom I can count on no matter what happens. My parents have given me so much, and they are the best gift to me in this life. No other words can represent my love for them. PS: I like my Mcbeth shoes, but I like my best friend, Jack, more. Roy made everything else more perfect, X&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/S1PY3zXJeuI/AAAAAAAABzk/n1fSJOt4trU/s1600-h/19569_250386871238_605066238_3340962_615248_n.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/S1PY3zXJeuI/AAAAAAAABzk/n1fSJOt4trU/s400/19569_250386871238_605066238_3340962_615248_n.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5427920429103282914" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;"common sense is just a series of prejudices acquired by age 18"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/197971195958503036-5917065589538352232?l=bugfordinner.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bugfordinner.blogspot.com/feeds/5917065589538352232/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=197971195958503036&amp;postID=5917065589538352232&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/197971195958503036/posts/default/5917065589538352232'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/197971195958503036/posts/default/5917065589538352232'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bugfordinner.blogspot.com/2010/01/heard-enuff-of-youre-finally-legal.html' title=''/><author><name>Anthea (born c'92)</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09682674126991182155</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/TSMZT7tN7yI/AAAAAAAACSA/pOgOpTzZMmA/S220/155131_466084780414_619890414_5844925_3617531_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/S1PY24kH8PI/AAAAAAAABzM/mZnhE0dGkpM/s72-c/19569_250386786238_605066238_3340953_7146936_n.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-197971195958503036.post-2288288242213893597</id><published>2010-01-16T12:51:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-01-15T20:15:29.300-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Headed down to Kaplan yesterday. Royboy is great, without his help, I would still be stuck in the predicament. We went to get apple &amp;amp; mango strudel before heading home, then had a nice dinner together with the parents. R has been making my parents really happy these few days. It feels good to just spend some time sitting side by side in the hall watching tv, with both feet touching, and Mongmong sitting in the center between us&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Fave boy went back around 10 o'clock, which was a surprise to me. So a'okay..... I was rather pissed over some issue, at 23:56pm he called me and I told him about it. Felt much better, so I told him I wished to see him at that moment. That's when he told me to open the gate. Omg he was just outside, totally a surprise hahah&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Blind-folded me + made me cry + SK jewellery + list of promises to be made + night breeze at sungei buloh = one of the best moments in my life this far. &lt;span class="status-body"&gt;&lt;span class="entry-content"&gt;16th January 2010 is a day full of happiness and also sadness of the past for us. I have already made my promise, so did he. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;Besides my family who will be there for me forever, it’s so hard to find the people that really care for you, love you and have your best in interest. But now I have him, and I'm very certain he is the one. &lt;span class="status-body"&gt;&lt;span class="entry-content"&gt;X&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This year, I dont intend to call for a big celebration though it's my 18th. Lately I've been facing some personal stuff, plus I didn't do well for my exam hahah, so today will be just a simple get-together for my close and special friends. Ciao!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/197971195958503036-2288288242213893597?l=bugfordinner.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bugfordinner.blogspot.com/feeds/2288288242213893597/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=197971195958503036&amp;postID=2288288242213893597&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/197971195958503036/posts/default/2288288242213893597'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/197971195958503036/posts/default/2288288242213893597'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bugfordinner.blogspot.com/2010/01/headed-down-to-kaplan-yesterday.html' title=''/><author><name>Anthea (born c'92)</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09682674126991182155</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/TSMZT7tN7yI/AAAAAAAACSA/pOgOpTzZMmA/S220/155131_466084780414_619890414_5844925_3617531_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-197971195958503036.post-4418798500787428389</id><published>2010-01-14T16:22:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-01-14T01:08:32.083-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/S07TUwXxlXI/AAAAAAAABy0/OGMe5LYHcL0/s1600-h/KC21.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/S07TUwXxlXI/AAAAAAAABy0/OGMe5LYHcL0/s400/KC21.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5426506954563491186" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Mom just passed me a huge cup of apple juice, my fave peanuts as the cup. Last night was nice, I wished I could evaporate into the moment and stay there for long, because it's the first time of this week that I saw my parents so mega happy. Only God knows what I'd be without &lt;u&gt;you&lt;/u&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/197971195958503036-4418798500787428389?l=bugfordinner.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bugfordinner.blogspot.com/feeds/4418798500787428389/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=197971195958503036&amp;postID=4418798500787428389&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/197971195958503036/posts/default/4418798500787428389'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/197971195958503036/posts/default/4418798500787428389'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bugfordinner.blogspot.com/2010/01/mom-just-passed-me-huge-cup-of-apple.html' title=''/><author><name>Anthea (born c'92)</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09682674126991182155</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/TSMZT7tN7yI/AAAAAAAACSA/pOgOpTzZMmA/S220/155131_466084780414_619890414_5844925_3617531_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/S07TUwXxlXI/AAAAAAAABy0/OGMe5LYHcL0/s72-c/KC21.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-197971195958503036.post-5796638056591472119</id><published>2010-01-13T02:04:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-01-12T10:48:46.247-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>For the whole of yesterday, I swear I was mentally down to the extreme. I cried for 3 hours straight and had a bad headache the whole night. Luckily for Royboy, if not I wouldn't know what to do. Everyone bombarded me with calls and text messages, and I know you guys were really very worried for me, but sorreh' I just didn't feel like talking to anybody. X&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today, we went around for appeal and some discussions. Afterwards, headed to one of the buddies' place and the Jack Russel's very active indeed. Time 2 groom the nails cos I had a lot of scratches!! I met Bimo. OMG BEEN SO LONG. Before he turned to the corner, he even waved the necklace he's been wearing everyday since last year. Still rmb I got it for him on his birthday, he was very happy to receive it. Royboy took us for both lunch and dinner, his buddies+gfs are very nice people. Fave quote from now onwards: Never judge a book by its cover (Y)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am really grateful to my family, closest girlfriends, and definitely not forgetting Roy, for always believing in me. My parents never gave up on me, and this time round, they even told me a lot of encouraging words and I just feel like I'm the most fortunate. My dad told me never to give up, not like it's the end of the world. Today, I feel so much better. Seriously. I am more adamant about doing this now, compared to yesterday where I had zero faith left in myself. After much advise, I am pretty sure it's gonna work out. I actually do have a few options to consider wisely. Whatever my decision is, there ought to be hard work put in. I learnt from my mistakes. To be honest, I studied pretty late last year. During june, which most of the students had already started revising, I was still working and having the best time of my life. Roy was right, he said "I talked to you today, already knew that you have no head or tails when you study. no 10-year-series (very sinful, y'know), no maths formula book, no proper study format for humanities, how to pass?" Hahahahah&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Had a long day, my sore back and aching legs are killing me. Gonna hit the bed now. X PS: Happy birthday Erwin! The best brother one could ever ask for. Thanks for all the sweet advises and I really hope your birthday wish come true. XOXO&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/197971195958503036-5796638056591472119?l=bugfordinner.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bugfordinner.blogspot.com/feeds/5796638056591472119/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=197971195958503036&amp;postID=5796638056591472119&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/197971195958503036/posts/default/5796638056591472119'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/197971195958503036/posts/default/5796638056591472119'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bugfordinner.blogspot.com/2010/01/for-whole-of-yesterday-i-swear-i-was.html' title=''/><author><name>Anthea (born c'92)</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09682674126991182155</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/TSMZT7tN7yI/AAAAAAAACSA/pOgOpTzZMmA/S220/155131_466084780414_619890414_5844925_3617531_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-197971195958503036.post-3271706231128122422</id><published>2010-01-12T00:12:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-01-11T08:17:53.938-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;"who was the one who encouraged bro in that letter never to give up? you shouldn't either" says the dad&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/197971195958503036-3271706231128122422?l=bugfordinner.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bugfordinner.blogspot.com/feeds/3271706231128122422/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=197971195958503036&amp;postID=3271706231128122422&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/197971195958503036/posts/default/3271706231128122422'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/197971195958503036/posts/default/3271706231128122422'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bugfordinner.blogspot.com/2010/01/dad-said-who-was-one-who-encouraged-bro.html' title=''/><author><name>Anthea (born c'92)</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09682674126991182155</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/TSMZT7tN7yI/AAAAAAAACSA/pOgOpTzZMmA/S220/155131_466084780414_619890414_5844925_3617531_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-197971195958503036.post-1707846855707628489</id><published>2010-01-10T23:33:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-01-10T07:34:48.519-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Was feeling nostalgic this arvo, so Aarone and I dug out all the old photos. How funny we looked in the past. Aarone's always the cheeky little boy, while I'm always the act shy type&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/S0nup3dyteI/AAAAAAAABys/aYLQ-6sTjPg/s1600-h/DSC01364.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/S0nup3dyteI/AAAAAAAABys/aYLQ-6sTjPg/s400/DSC01364.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5425129629175428578" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;This is my family, excluding eldest and second brother in the pic&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/S0nupYr-EAI/AAAAAAAAByk/n_5Km08RnI0/s1600-h/DSC01360.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/S0nupYr-EAI/AAAAAAAAByk/n_5Km08RnI0/s400/DSC01360.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5425129620913393666" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Can you find little Anthea's bag and hat? Hehe Erwin carried me everywhere all the time. He used to like throwing me up in the air, and I'd be so frightened like a little goat&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/S0mDc3WrEpI/AAAAAAAABx0/C6LRZjyjfdQ/s1600-h/DSC01352.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/S0mDc3WrEpI/AAAAAAAABx0/C6LRZjyjfdQ/s400/DSC01352.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5425011758063096466" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;See how adorable my third brother looked (in red) Oh yeah that's my uncle (whit's dad) who's staying in perth now, and I didn't know Mom had Carlito's hair!! hahaha &lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I spit in the face of people who don't want to be cool&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/S0mDcffGdfI/AAAAAAAABxs/6QZUgQK-Xxg/s1600-h/DSC01351.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/S0mDcffGdfI/AAAAAAAABxs/6QZUgQK-Xxg/s400/DSC01351.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5425011751655994866" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/S0nss7ayKAI/AAAAAAAAByc/3UleLGZ0zdE/s1600-h/812232049l.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 301px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/S0nss7ayKAI/AAAAAAAAByc/3UleLGZ0zdE/s400/812232049l.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5425127482752903170" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Hahaha hi whit, couz4lyfe&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/S0mDnTrCD-I/AAAAAAAAByE/ihMlOE077B4/s1600-h/DSC01355.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/S0mDnTrCD-I/AAAAAAAAByE/ihMlOE077B4/s400/DSC01355.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5425011937463373794" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;My daddykins in the center&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/S0mDcJ4qzUI/AAAAAAAABxk/3I_f81qPc4g/s1600-h/DSC01348.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/S0mDcJ4qzUI/AAAAAAAABxk/3I_f81qPc4g/s400/DSC01348.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5425011745857654082" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Momsie carrying little Aarone, and that's me with Mister Penguin. We do resemble each other, huh? Aarone spent most of his childhood time at the cake shop. So now it's not something new that he loves to eat bread&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/S0mDEqg00wI/AAAAAAAABw0/PzjYuUBSHq0/s1600-h/DSC01330.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/S0mDEqg00wI/AAAAAAAABw0/PzjYuUBSHq0/s400/DSC01330.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5425011342299157250" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;My daddy's baby photo hehe&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/S0mDb4ACgDI/AAAAAAAABxc/IKq3Ah7yfyE/s1600-h/DSC01343.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/S0mDb4ACgDI/AAAAAAAABxc/IKq3Ah7yfyE/s400/DSC01343.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5425011741056729138" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/S0mDGBT2F-I/AAAAAAAABxU/K64ftCwDWwQ/s1600-h/DSC01340.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/S0mDGBT2F-I/AAAAAAAABxU/K64ftCwDWwQ/s400/DSC01340.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5425011365598599138" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;My lovely parents&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/S0mDnlUV76I/AAAAAAAAByM/QAWSTsyGLcM/s1600-h/DSC01356.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/S0mDnlUV76I/AAAAAAAAByM/QAWSTsyGLcM/s400/DSC01356.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5425011942200045474" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Taken on a x'mas eve celebration. With one of the aunts&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/S0mDFph0e7I/AAAAAAAABxM/PSNu8C6C55Y/s1600-h/DSC01338.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/S0mDFph0e7I/AAAAAAAABxM/PSNu8C6C55Y/s400/DSC01338.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5425011359214762930" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Hahaha look how huge was the snoopy. I don't have it anymore, though. Bet Mom threw it away when I didn't notice. See, I used to doll Mongmong up. Even took his ears as ponytails haha pitiful peanut&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/S0mDE0oXnEI/AAAAAAAABw8/yCIFHFmfVTw/s1600-h/DSC01331.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/S0mDE0oXnEI/AAAAAAAABw8/yCIFHFmfVTw/s400/DSC01331.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5425011345015151682" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/S0mDFWy_U3I/AAAAAAAABxE/wue04F99qLQ/s1600-h/DSC01333.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/S0mDFWy_U3I/AAAAAAAABxE/wue04F99qLQ/s400/DSC01333.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5425011354186503026" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Awwwww. That's all folks!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/197971195958503036-1707846855707628489?l=bugfordinner.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bugfordinner.blogspot.com/feeds/1707846855707628489/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=197971195958503036&amp;postID=1707846855707628489&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/197971195958503036/posts/default/1707846855707628489'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/197971195958503036/posts/default/1707846855707628489'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bugfordinner.blogspot.com/2010/01/was-feeling-nostalgic-this-arvo-so.html' title=''/><author><name>Anthea (born c'92)</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09682674126991182155</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/TSMZT7tN7yI/AAAAAAAACSA/pOgOpTzZMmA/S220/155131_466084780414_619890414_5844925_3617531_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/S0nup3dyteI/AAAAAAAABys/aYLQ-6sTjPg/s72-c/DSC01364.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-197971195958503036.post-1521167717254152327</id><published>2010-01-08T13:06:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-01-07T21:14:18.266-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/S0S1DohrGNI/AAAAAAAABws/GanLXanGQBw/s1600-h/16954_2292578925.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/S0S1DohrGNI/AAAAAAAABws/GanLXanGQBw/s400/16954_2292578925.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5423658925283809490" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times;"&gt;You picked me up at 5 o'clock. We talked about everything over coffee. After a light-hearted movie, you took me somewhere else, your jacket smelled of fresh cut grass. You asked what songs do I like to listen to. So, I chose Lily Allen's. You told me to touch on the screen player harder, then we laughed. You were such an ass to lie and I got the worst shock ever, then I secretly teared. The thought of my family, my close friends appeared in my mind. After 15 minutes or so of terror,   you wind down the windows. You said you were in the drama class when you were small, I faked a smile. My body was still tensed, I couldn't move an inch&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Later that night, you told me "The secret of the night is, when I saw how in shock you looked, with your hair across your frightened face, the expression and all made my heart ached. Really, I felt my heart aching." You saw my dry tears afterwards and you patted my head, I swear the butterflies were battering recklessly against the walls of my stomach. I told you, "I was very scared, one part of me imagined you as the bad guy who was gonna finish me off, but another part of me know that somewhat you would protect and save me. Y'know that kind of mixed feelings?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You got off the car and we spoke under the stars. I didn't get off and remain seated &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times;"&gt;in the front seat of that beautiful white car that belongs to the boy I like and even though I should feel scared beyond control because you were driving so fast, I felt so safe and alive.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times;"&gt; You talked about life, as you puff away on your cigarette. The night breeze blew my messy hair gently, and it was a sight I wish I could stay there for as long. The way you make me feel is like,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times;"&gt; when I get an ‘A’ on my result slip. Speaking of, I am getting my results in 2 days' time&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/197971195958503036-1521167717254152327?l=bugfordinner.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bugfordinner.blogspot.com/feeds/1521167717254152327/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=197971195958503036&amp;postID=1521167717254152327&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/197971195958503036/posts/default/1521167717254152327'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/197971195958503036/posts/default/1521167717254152327'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bugfordinner.blogspot.com/2010/01/you-picked-me-up-at-5-oclock.html' title=''/><author><name>Anthea (born c'92)</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09682674126991182155</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/TSMZT7tN7yI/AAAAAAAACSA/pOgOpTzZMmA/S220/155131_466084780414_619890414_5844925_3617531_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/S0S1DohrGNI/AAAAAAAABws/GanLXanGQBw/s72-c/16954_2292578925.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-197971195958503036.post-3097163887346680524</id><published>2010-01-06T23:28:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-01-06T08:02:50.463-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/S0SOf8kRHcI/AAAAAAAABvs/jpm71Mdni2E/s1600-h/DSC01093.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/S0SOf8kRHcI/AAAAAAAABvs/jpm71Mdni2E/s400/DSC01093.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5423616530746252738" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/S0SO4sCV_bI/AAAAAAAABv8/x_qOeC7Hlm0/s1600-h/DSC01108.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/S0SO4sCV_bI/AAAAAAAABv8/x_qOeC7Hlm0/s400/DSC01108.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5423616955805728178" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Yesterday was fun. I went to town for shopping spree, yay!! PS: It was a day out without mascara. Then, I tried 18chefs for the first time. The food was great, the company was more than awesome hehe I love these 2 girls a lot. Known them since primary sch. We are happygalz92&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/S0SOgNowKYI/AAAAAAAABv0/mUb4B1MADzo/s1600-h/DSC01133.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/S0SOgNowKYI/AAAAAAAABv0/mUb4B1MADzo/s400/DSC01133.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5423616535328467330" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/S0SO46I_9XI/AAAAAAAABwE/fM4fbmusMAA/s1600-h/DSC01142.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/S0SO46I_9XI/AAAAAAAABwE/fM4fbmusMAA/s400/DSC01142.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5423616959591740786" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Even if we don't meet for a month or two (certainly not possible), we are still as close as ever. We laugh over new jokes, even the old ones. When the retardation kicks in, we get spastic together. Fun times like this makes me forget about all the worries&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/S0SOfmxkWNI/AAAAAAAABvk/J3JGXYyOpW8/s1600-h/DSC01166-T.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/S0SOfmxkWNI/AAAAAAAABvk/J3JGXYyOpW8/s400/DSC01166-T.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5423616524896458962" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/S0SOfPpg4PI/AAAAAAAABvc/rQBbiIEiAig/s1600-h/DSC01225.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/S0SOfPpg4PI/AAAAAAAABvc/rQBbiIEiAig/s400/DSC01225.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5423616518688661746" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/S0SOe9jGOqI/AAAAAAAABvU/lznVoPQQtkI/s1600-h/DSC01197.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/S0SOe9jGOqI/AAAAAAAABvU/lznVoPQQtkI/s400/DSC01197.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5423616513829911202" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Cos babygirl, it's you + me forever, against the world (L)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/197971195958503036-3097163887346680524?l=bugfordinner.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bugfordinner.blogspot.com/feeds/3097163887346680524/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=197971195958503036&amp;postID=3097163887346680524&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/197971195958503036/posts/default/3097163887346680524'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/197971195958503036/posts/default/3097163887346680524'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bugfordinner.blogspot.com/2010/01/yesterday-was-fun.html' title=''/><author><name>Anthea (born c'92)</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09682674126991182155</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/TSMZT7tN7yI/AAAAAAAACSA/pOgOpTzZMmA/S220/155131_466084780414_619890414_5844925_3617531_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/S0SOf8kRHcI/AAAAAAAABvs/jpm71Mdni2E/s72-c/DSC01093.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-197971195958503036.post-1071563505060072928</id><published>2010-01-06T11:15:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-01-06T07:32:36.271-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>End of year 09 was truly bad enough for me to just coop myself in the room. So, my favourites tried so hard to cheer me up, and now I'm talking more n feeling way much better. I have decided to spontaneously start a fresh new 365 days, and to make it a good one. Yes!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/S0SQbMSoElI/AAAAAAAABwM/vANnYpsgtyE/s1600-h/DSC01057.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/S0SQbMSoElI/AAAAAAAABwM/vANnYpsgtyE/s400/DSC01057.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5423618648091136594" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;On the 2nd day of this new year, I went out with some old friends. We had much laughter as usual. Blah, the guys laugh way too much over nonsensical stuff as usual. X&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/S0SQbl287aI/AAAAAAAABwc/G4ye12pqwyY/s1600-h/DSC01087-T.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/S0SQbl287aI/AAAAAAAABwc/G4ye12pqwyY/s400/DSC01087-T.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5423618654954384802" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Some sweetheart came to fetch Nicole, then Amanda and the boyfie came. So we played L4D2, to hell with them. Kill kill kill!!!!!!!&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/S0SQbyeNClI/AAAAAAAABwk/Yx7FQPWfg08/s1600-h/DSC01052.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/S0SQbyeNClI/AAAAAAAABwk/Yx7FQPWfg08/s400/DSC01052.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5423618658340244050" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/S0SQbUv4MsI/AAAAAAAABwU/8zjxMA2EtbQ/s1600-h/DSC01079.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/S0SQbUv4MsI/AAAAAAAABwU/8zjxMA2EtbQ/s400/DSC01079.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5423618650361311938" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;That day, I had 3 big cups of coke for each meal. Later that night, I was wide awake and didn't sleep at all. Served me right. I am definitely not a coke person, beats me why I had such a big unusual interest for coke on that day either. Enjoyed my catch-up with the guys!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/197971195958503036-1071563505060072928?l=bugfordinner.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bugfordinner.blogspot.com/feeds/1071563505060072928/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=197971195958503036&amp;postID=1071563505060072928&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/197971195958503036/posts/default/1071563505060072928'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/197971195958503036/posts/default/1071563505060072928'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bugfordinner.blogspot.com/2010/01/end-of-year-08-was-truly-bad-enough-for.html' title=''/><author><name>Anthea (born c'92)</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09682674126991182155</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/TSMZT7tN7yI/AAAAAAAACSA/pOgOpTzZMmA/S220/155131_466084780414_619890414_5844925_3617531_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/S0SQbMSoElI/AAAAAAAABwM/vANnYpsgtyE/s72-c/DSC01057.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-197971195958503036.post-849083587496031678</id><published>2010-01-01T01:45:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-12-31T09:45:36.651-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/Szyn7lceRRI/AAAAAAAABus/v0su_Etn8NQ/s1600-h/12454T.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/Szyn7lceRRI/AAAAAAAABus/v0su_Etn8NQ/s400/12454T.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5421392693552891154" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;I don't know what it is about you. Maybe it’s the way nothing else matters when we’re talking, or how I make you smile more than anyone else has. Or maybe it could be the way that I say the right thing at the right time. But whatever it is, I just want you to know that it means something to me, too&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/197971195958503036-849083587496031678?l=bugfordinner.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bugfordinner.blogspot.com/feeds/849083587496031678/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=197971195958503036&amp;postID=849083587496031678&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/197971195958503036/posts/default/849083587496031678'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/197971195958503036/posts/default/849083587496031678'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bugfordinner.blogspot.com/2009/12/i-dont-know-what-it-is-about-you.html' title=''/><author><name>Anthea (born c'92)</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09682674126991182155</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/TSMZT7tN7yI/AAAAAAAACSA/pOgOpTzZMmA/S220/155131_466084780414_619890414_5844925_3617531_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/Szyn7lceRRI/AAAAAAAABus/v0su_Etn8NQ/s72-c/12454T.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-197971195958503036.post-5424245908720438768</id><published>2009-12-31T21:17:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-12-31T05:46:06.519-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Just a quick recap on year 2009...............&lt;br /&gt;I gave up on sch n took private studying. Panic attacks occurred to me n bbyg when the exam started to get nearer n nearer. It was funny cos we would share depressing text messages n even cried a couple of times over not doing anything to our studies. We went for night classes. We laughed more than we listened to the restless teacher. We had too much fun n laughter everyday. When our downtime strike us, we would go for a nice supper, have heart-to-heart talks, warm hugs, then everything would be perfect once again. I would never forget such good times we had&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/Szyb6HjaNqI/AAAAAAAABuk/nbKY1D4e1GY/s1600-h/15438.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 355px; height: 400px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/Szyb6HjaNqI/AAAAAAAABuk/nbKY1D4e1GY/s400/15438.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5421379474209519266" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;I met new friends, but drifted from a lot of other friends too. I learnt to not trust people that easily, I don't know if it's a good thing or not. I learnt not to let people in completely. Cos I wouldn't want to go "oh why fucking hell do you hv to do this" when they screw up. I also learnt that things usually don't end up the way you expected or planned, n it's really sad. But that's life&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/Szyb5rJ3umI/AAAAAAAABuc/eHucF5vEHak/s1600-h/DSC04247.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 355px; height: 400px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/Szyb5rJ3umI/AAAAAAAABuc/eHucF5vEHak/s400/DSC04247.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5421379466586208866" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;I  learnt that every day you should reach out and touch someone. People love a warm hug, or just a friendly pat on the back. I learnt that I still have a lot more to learn in life&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/197971195958503036-5424245908720438768?l=bugfordinner.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bugfordinner.blogspot.com/feeds/5424245908720438768/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=197971195958503036&amp;postID=5424245908720438768&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/197971195958503036/posts/default/5424245908720438768'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/197971195958503036/posts/default/5424245908720438768'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bugfordinner.blogspot.com/2009/12/just-quick-recap-on-year-2009.html' title=''/><author><name>Anthea (born c'92)</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09682674126991182155</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/TSMZT7tN7yI/AAAAAAAACSA/pOgOpTzZMmA/S220/155131_466084780414_619890414_5844925_3617531_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/Szyb6HjaNqI/AAAAAAAABuk/nbKY1D4e1GY/s72-c/15438.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-197971195958503036.post-4980984006224477088</id><published>2009-12-31T20:55:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-12-31T05:41:51.505-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I’ve been in an unbelievably upset mood these few days, like my life has changed drastically in just a few days and definitely not in a good way. I just feel that, when something really good happens, and I feel a little of luck n happiness, it somehow always seems to get messed up in the end. Something has to come n end all of that&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Altho it's just a few days since I'm back from genting, I’ve had a lot on my plate. I thought that genting trip would be a getaway since I've been working my ass off so hard n not getting enuff' rest. I did enjoy the short vacation but once I got back, all problems start to occur right before my eyes. They are not good stuff n my mind never stop thinking for even a second. Through hard times like this, you realized your family means so much. Too much that they stand even an important place than everything else&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Things that happened all of a sudden have been too hard for me to write down on paper and make any sense. My closest people keep on telling me to stop thinking, but I cant bring myself to. This sucks. Everything seems to be crashing n falling. I hate life suddenly. All things seem to be slipping from my grip like I’m not good enough to hold on. Things really haven’t been this bad in a long time and I'm so down&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I realized that counting down to 2010 or not doesn't make much of a difference, cos every year goes on. I wouldnt want to head down to town n get myself drown in sweats n all. I know that my ffave girls hv been trying very hard to make me feel happier, n I appreciate the effort. But I cant get the mood, I cant seem to find the mood at all. I’m really sorry if the way I'm feeling has affected y'all as well or if I have been putting you off, like for tonight. Y'all just hv to understand&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Everything has to be balanced, I need to look on the bright side no matter how bad things get. On the optimistic side, I love how the world is making me grow,with all the setbacks. Every year pass by so fast, without us realizing. Life is like a ride, we just have to enjoy it. Take the roller coaster ride I took at genting for example. At some point I got really excited n I wished I could stay there forever, but it wont. Somehow we hv to get down, we fall apart and start over again. The only thing that keeps a person going is knowing. Knowing what is right/wrong from my experiences. Things are not falling into place as I wanted but I hope things will look up soon. I just hv to go through a lot of bad shit to ever get back to the good&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I’m sorry I swerved off the high road and sunk so low, it's not something I wanted. I’m trying to find the rope again and climb back up. Tomorrow will be a new day. A new year :-)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/197971195958503036-4980984006224477088?l=bugfordinner.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bugfordinner.blogspot.com/feeds/4980984006224477088/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=197971195958503036&amp;postID=4980984006224477088&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/197971195958503036/posts/default/4980984006224477088'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/197971195958503036/posts/default/4980984006224477088'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bugfordinner.blogspot.com/2009/12/ive-been-in-unbelievably-upset-mood.html' title=''/><author><name>Anthea (born c'92)</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09682674126991182155</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/TSMZT7tN7yI/AAAAAAAACSA/pOgOpTzZMmA/S220/155131_466084780414_619890414_5844925_3617531_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-197971195958503036.post-2249611471689606253</id><published>2009-12-29T07:16:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-12-29T00:05:04.767-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/SzkE63pIDVI/AAAAAAAABns/I0EgrnQBOPk/s1600-h/DSC00653.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/SzkE63pIDVI/AAAAAAAABns/I0EgrnQBOPk/s400/DSC00653.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5420369035932470610" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;So on a thursday, we drove up to KL then to genting. (Nope Aarone wasnt sleep-standing, this was a candid shot haha) &lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;Warning: Pix spam!!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/SzkE7JrsdjI/AAAAAAAABn0/0_CBjU7d-Ww/s1600-h/DSC00654.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/SzkE7JrsdjI/AAAAAAAABn0/0_CBjU7d-Ww/s400/DSC00654.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5420369040775083570" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/SzkE7U75aPI/AAAAAAAABn8/0Vn15_wWSTY/s1600-h/DSC00655.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/SzkE7U75aPI/AAAAAAAABn8/0Vn15_wWSTY/s400/DSC00655.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5420369043795831026" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;I slept like 1/2 of the journey though we had Armin van Buuren on repeat&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/SzkHX7yngCI/AAAAAAAABoU/otLgNEFmtlE/s1600-h/DSC00681.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/SzkHX7yngCI/AAAAAAAABoU/otLgNEFmtlE/s400/DSC00681.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5420371734285484066" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/SzkE78rgbqI/AAAAAAAABoM/YhX8J1vTe9Y/s1600-h/DSC00680.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/SzkE78rgbqI/AAAAAAAABoM/YhX8J1vTe9Y/s400/DSC00680.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5420369054464503458" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/SzkE7voQf1I/AAAAAAAABoE/PGTCkIBorRM/s1600-h/DSC00675.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/SzkE7voQf1I/AAAAAAAABoE/PGTCkIBorRM/s400/DSC00675.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5420369050961215314" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;We reached there in the evening so there wasnt anything much to do except to eat n eat. Yum tum tum, xiao long bao but I puked out the pork which was inside. Eew pork. It stunk like hell!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/SzkHYY9lzWI/AAAAAAAABoc/QE4A0eqR2HA/s1600-h/DSC00703.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/SzkHYY9lzWI/AAAAAAAABoc/QE4A0eqR2HA/s400/DSC00703.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5420371742116138338" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Although the weather was already kinda cold, we had ice-cream still. We went to the casino and watched my bro play. Then, we went for a movie. I like this chinese actor- Donnie Yen haha! I didn't know he was already so famous, n I really like his acting. I'm a noobcake&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/SzkHYuPEeVI/AAAAAAAABok/KgeeN9_AeMk/s1600-h/DSC00719.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/SzkHYuPEeVI/AAAAAAAABok/KgeeN9_AeMk/s400/DSC00719.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5420371747826596178" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;X'mas eve was a blast though I was away from my close friends, who rotted their nights away in sg. We went to drink with my eldest bro's bunch of funny friends. I swear they are hardcore jokers!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/SzkHZK_1aTI/AAAAAAAABo0/KdIFpHpr7IY/s1600-h/DSC00747.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/SzkHZK_1aTI/AAAAAAAABo0/KdIFpHpr7IY/s400/DSC00747.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5420371755547322674" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/SzkHY2gl_4I/AAAAAAAABos/GO5rZlGrliY/s1600-h/DSC00729.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/SzkHY2gl_4I/AAAAAAAABos/GO5rZlGrliY/s400/DSC00729.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5420371750047580034" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;They drank so much. I see beer bellies. Bottles after bottles, buckets after buckets. Nico was dancing like there's no tomorrow. But nope, we survived another day. And till today&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/SzkJC8lQLZI/AAAAAAAABpE/FewARCQAlWs/s1600-h/DSC00764.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/SzkJC8lQLZI/AAAAAAAABpE/FewARCQAlWs/s400/DSC00764.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5420373572743867794" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/SzkJCpg40pI/AAAAAAAABo8/bfcZM6lr1VQ/s1600-h/DSC00761.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/SzkJCpg40pI/AAAAAAAABo8/bfcZM6lr1VQ/s400/DSC00761.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5420373567625286290" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/SzkgdKyyqbI/AAAAAAAABss/pRs4ULZqfmM/s1600-h/DSC00790.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/SzkgdKyyqbI/AAAAAAAABss/pRs4ULZqfmM/s400/DSC00790.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5420399312002787762" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/SzkJDLl5BtI/AAAAAAAABpM/eCv0n_4cQF4/s1600-h/DSC00777.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/SzkJDLl5BtI/AAAAAAAABpM/eCv0n_4cQF4/s400/DSC00777.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5420373576773076690" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/SzkJDj3dHBI/AAAAAAAABpc/GkaIpWK_PWY/s1600-h/DSC00754-.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/SzkJDj3dHBI/AAAAAAAABpc/GkaIpWK_PWY/s400/DSC00754-.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5420373583289195538" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;The atmosphere was good either but I kept wanting to leave cos I thought it was boring after awhile. Went for supper then back to hotel at 6 in the morning. Bro went to casino n so we slept a little&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/SzkN_1Q5d5I/AAAAAAAABqk/F5T3utKYbxg/s1600-h/DSC00890.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/SzkN_1Q5d5I/AAAAAAAABqk/F5T3utKYbxg/s400/DSC00890.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5420379016797976466" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Mongmong was such a lucky thing cos the few nights he had no other lovely animals to share the bed with. Hehe I only brought him there. Unlike back at home where he was always jealous when I pat the others to bed. He doesnt even like me to look at them! But how can he be compared to the rest?? He means the world to me. Without mongmong, I'm better off dead. He's been my best friend for a friggin' 12 years! and counting on&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/SzkL7MvHrpI/AAAAAAAABpk/7-w9uisP4k0/s1600-h/DSC00806-.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/SzkL7MvHrpI/AAAAAAAABpk/7-w9uisP4k0/s400/DSC00806-.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5420376738176151186" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/SzkL7yeUawI/AAAAAAAABp8/9kXBJLEhBy0/s1600-h/DSC00840-v.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 266px; height: 400px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/SzkL7yeUawI/AAAAAAAABp8/9kXBJLEhBy0/s400/DSC00840-v.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5420376748306230018" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/SzkqU25ISCI/AAAAAAAABs0/wFnmLZuPf7g/s1600-h/DSC00844-.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/SzkqU25ISCI/AAAAAAAABs0/wFnmLZuPf7g/s400/DSC00844-.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5420410164337985570" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;We went to play with snow, was so amazing. It was far better than the snow city in sg!! Huge difference. Hehe I had a lot of fun, no kid' Been long since I played like a child with no worries&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/SzkL7kg72PI/AAAAAAAABp0/DhStLklZ2E4/s1600-h/DSC00855.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/SzkL7kg72PI/AAAAAAAABp0/DhStLklZ2E4/s400/DSC00855.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5420376744559106290" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Okay I was a retard I went to get that pink thing to keep my ears warm&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/SzkN_AKYypI/AAAAAAAABqM/QPoxZ9ld-dk/s1600-h/DSC00879.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/SzkN_AKYypI/AAAAAAAABqM/QPoxZ9ld-dk/s400/DSC00879.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5420379002543590034" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Yes, I think he was trying to eat the ice. Huh?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/SzkL8PXfWEI/AAAAAAAABqE/iE7e2XGCxWg/s1600-h/DSC00865.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/SzkL8PXfWEI/AAAAAAAABqE/iE7e2XGCxWg/s400/DSC00865.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5420376756062214210" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/SzkN_cfys5I/AAAAAAAABqU/564CVRfzDiI/s1600-h/DSC00883.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/SzkN_cfys5I/AAAAAAAABqU/564CVRfzDiI/s400/DSC00883.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5420379010149561234" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/SzkV8hsngII/AAAAAAAABsc/2kj0iNm3suQ/s1600-h/DSC01024-.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/SzkV8hsngII/AAAAAAAABsc/2kj0iNm3suQ/s400/DSC01024-.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5420387756098945154" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/SzkV8zsi_YI/AAAAAAAABsk/bzo0Q5CiSGI/s1600-h/DSC01025.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/SzkV8zsi_YI/AAAAAAAABsk/bzo0Q5CiSGI/s400/DSC01025.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5420387760930487682" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/SzkN_hwC_nI/AAAAAAAABqc/S-DFVr0TjIQ/s1600-h/DSC00884.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/SzkN_hwC_nI/AAAAAAAABqc/S-DFVr0TjIQ/s400/DSC00884.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5420379011559915122" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Even though we were freezing, we had more ice-cream haha&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/SzkOAetuMaI/AAAAAAAABqs/6dlBWOOdCJw/s1600-h/DSC00893.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/SzkOAetuMaI/AAAAAAAABqs/6dlBWOOdCJw/s400/DSC00893.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5420379027924726178" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Oi you watch out leh, last warning. Vainpot&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/SzkSOmdrMAI/AAAAAAAABrc/2thj69AdLsw/s1600-h/DSC00941.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/SzkSOmdrMAI/AAAAAAAABrc/2thj69AdLsw/s400/DSC00941.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5420383668569583618" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Our hotel rooms were sort of linked with just a door in between. So sometimes we play peekaboo with one another&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/SzkPnnKDhJI/AAAAAAAABrE/WEkHvVXmhhQ/s1600-h/DSC00916.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/SzkPnnKDhJI/AAAAAAAABrE/WEkHvVXmhhQ/s400/DSC00916.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5420380799717573778" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/SzkPnHK7jkI/AAAAAAAABq0/-2Jo-0uK7ZQ/s1600-h/DSC00909.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/SzkPnHK7jkI/AAAAAAAABq0/-2Jo-0uK7ZQ/s400/DSC00909.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5420380791131311682" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Had fine dining at The Olives on x'mas day. Yum&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/SzkPnVrfXwI/AAAAAAAABq8/O61271d2tn0/s1600-h/DSC00911.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/SzkPnVrfXwI/AAAAAAAABq8/O61271d2tn0/s400/DSC00911.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5420380795025972994" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;My first time trying snail meat!! It was SO great&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/SzkPoKkVuLI/AAAAAAAABrM/I_uslQF_k5Y/s1600-h/DSC00920.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/SzkPoKkVuLI/AAAAAAAABrM/I_uslQF_k5Y/s400/DSC00920.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5420380809223059634" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Nope, that wasnt an enormous curry puff. It's a pizza :-)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/SzkSPSuUYLI/AAAAAAAABrs/FPSZSlKX15g/s1600-h/DSC00949.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/SzkSPSuUYLI/AAAAAAAABrs/FPSZSlKX15g/s400/DSC00949.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5420383680450551986" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/SzkSPExKwkI/AAAAAAAABrk/bgMVeDj7B5Y/s1600-h/DSC00946.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/SzkSPExKwkI/AAAAAAAABrk/bgMVeDj7B5Y/s400/DSC00946.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5420383676704408130" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;We bought our theme park tix but the moment we entered, it started to pour. Wasnt heavy downpour or anything, more like a drizzle but they had to cancel all of the rides&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/SzkSP-lSVVI/AAAAAAAABr8/9Zey6_TkGww/s1600-h/DSC00959.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/SzkSP-lSVVI/AAAAAAAABr8/9Zey6_TkGww/s400/DSC00959.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5420383692223829330" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Everyone was drenched but lucky thing I had my hoodie on hahaha. We went to eat some chocolates although my gum was already killing me :-(&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/SzkSPgCfbJI/AAAAAAAABr0/sBxYi6jzNPQ/s1600-h/DSC00958.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/SzkSPgCfbJI/AAAAAAAABr0/sBxYi6jzNPQ/s400/DSC00958.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5420383684024822930" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/Szk1igTPplI/AAAAAAAABtE/tB2zKq7YwPg/s1600-h/DSC00975.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/Szk1igTPplI/AAAAAAAABtE/tB2zKq7YwPg/s400/DSC00975.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5420422493419578962" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;But we got to ride on this fun roller coaster and I felt super high after it! I could take it over n over again. I'm not that weak okay&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/SzkV8G_km-I/AAAAAAAABsM/FDp29BsWBzY/s1600-h/DSC00969.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/SzkV8G_km-I/AAAAAAAABsM/FDp29BsWBzY/s400/DSC00969.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5420387748930690018" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;This was the smallest burger I've ever seen!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, as usual I was sleeping in the car and I suddenly got up n felt sick. I vomited right after we left genting. My hands were trembling real bad n I felt really terrible. Hahahah&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We had a lot of nice food. Eldest bro made all these possible, and all along he has been the greatest without fail. Whatever I want, he'll definitely geddit for me just to make my day. I'm considered a very lucky girl with so many brothers who dote on me. Having 'em is one of the best things to me&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Initially, we were supposed to come back Saturday but the traffic was so bad, we had late steamboat dinner before going to bro's place. Got a rather sad news and I didnt know how to handle it. I totally lost my appetite and I kept crying in the car. Momsie was crying on the phone either, and I wished so badly that I was back home by her side! We stayed at bro's place to catch Man U's match. (my berbie cut his hair short)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I never go without supper every night. But that night was an exception cos I totally had no appetite and I just slept till the next day. Bad news like that really hit me hard. Aarone bought me 4 books n it cheered me up a little. Then, we went for more food. Satay, sambal fish, black pepper crab. We headed back home at 4am. Exhausted much&lt;br /&gt;I am famished. &amp;amp; the sun is up now :-) Going to sleep and accompanying the mom to the dental later on.................&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/197971195958503036-2249611471689606253?l=bugfordinner.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bugfordinner.blogspot.com/feeds/2249611471689606253/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=197971195958503036&amp;postID=2249611471689606253&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/197971195958503036/posts/default/2249611471689606253'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/197971195958503036/posts/default/2249611471689606253'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bugfordinner.blogspot.com/2009/12/so-on-thursday-we-drove-up-to-kl-then.html' title=''/><author><name>Anthea (born c'92)</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09682674126991182155</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/TSMZT7tN7yI/AAAAAAAACSA/pOgOpTzZMmA/S220/155131_466084780414_619890414_5844925_3617531_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/SzkE63pIDVI/AAAAAAAABns/I0EgrnQBOPk/s72-c/DSC00653.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-197971195958503036.post-2019723313907517788</id><published>2009-12-24T00:35:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-12-23T08:55:08.969-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Yesterday noon was nice&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/SzJGdH3IGyI/AAAAAAAABm0/4_7Kh2wO_lQ/s1600-h/DSC00594.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/SzJGdH3IGyI/AAAAAAAABm0/4_7Kh2wO_lQ/s400/DSC00594.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5418470767820544802" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Last night was more than nice&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/SzJGcHsepOI/AAAAAAAABmk/CGF35_Y2etU/s1600-h/DSC00557.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/SzJGcHsepOI/AAAAAAAABmk/CGF35_Y2etU/s400/DSC00557.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5418470750596015330" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/SzJJ8RzL7FI/AAAAAAAABnM/Zr0pAfjoCW0/s1600-h/22169_211603951238.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/SzJJ8RzL7FI/AAAAAAAABnM/Zr0pAfjoCW0/s400/22169_211603951238.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5418474601599200338" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;This morning was good either&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/SzJGcsAwPuI/AAAAAAAABms/1EBmPBKv4eM/s1600-h/DSC00558.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/SzJGcsAwPuI/AAAAAAAABms/1EBmPBKv4eM/s400/DSC00558.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5418470760344731362" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/SzJGboVfu1I/AAAAAAAABmc/t6w3-FkYjfc/s1600-h/DSC00544.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/SzJGboVfu1I/AAAAAAAABmc/t6w3-FkYjfc/s400/DSC00544.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5418470742178118482" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;And the evening got better&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/SzJGdVaX_CI/AAAAAAAABm8/xuWaTt5J3xw/s1600-h/DSC00623.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/SzJGdVaX_CI/AAAAAAAABm8/xuWaTt5J3xw/s400/DSC00623.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5418470771458047010" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Everyday would be nice by having just my favourite bunnies around. We eat together even when we're not hungry, we cry together when one is sad, we hug each other when we feel like it, we punch when one of em complains, we sleep when we are tired etc. So nice&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/SzJJ716JzxI/AAAAAAAABnE/XQwCnSKSP8Y/s1600-h/DSC00635-.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/SzJJ716JzxI/AAAAAAAABnE/XQwCnSKSP8Y/s400/DSC00635-.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5418474594112229138" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;I miss 'em already. I've yet to pack my bag! X&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/197971195958503036-2019723313907517788?l=bugfordinner.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bugfordinner.blogspot.com/feeds/2019723313907517788/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=197971195958503036&amp;postID=2019723313907517788&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/197971195958503036/posts/default/2019723313907517788'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/197971195958503036/posts/default/2019723313907517788'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bugfordinner.blogspot.com/2009/12/blog-post_23.html' title=''/><author><name>Anthea (born c'92)</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09682674126991182155</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/TSMZT7tN7yI/AAAAAAAACSA/pOgOpTzZMmA/S220/155131_466084780414_619890414_5844925_3617531_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/SzJGdH3IGyI/AAAAAAAABm0/4_7Kh2wO_lQ/s72-c/DSC00594.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-197971195958503036.post-4731479367846766536</id><published>2009-12-24T00:07:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-12-23T08:55:41.972-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Pix on 19th dec:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/Sy4Vn2WnE6I/AAAAAAAABl8/BrapN6ewwPs/s1600-h/DSC00535.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/Sy4Vn2WnE6I/AAAAAAAABl8/BrapN6ewwPs/s400/DSC00535.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5417291176122717090" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://s588.photobucket.com/albums/ss323/bugfordinner/?action=view&amp;amp;current=DSC00536-.jpg" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://i588.photobucket.com/albums/ss323/bugfordinner/DSC00536-.jpg" alt="" border="0" width="400" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/197971195958503036-4731479367846766536?l=bugfordinner.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bugfordinner.blogspot.com/feeds/4731479367846766536/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=197971195958503036&amp;postID=4731479367846766536&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/197971195958503036/posts/default/4731479367846766536'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/197971195958503036/posts/default/4731479367846766536'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bugfordinner.blogspot.com/2009/12/blog-post_6513.html' title=''/><author><name>Anthea (born c'92)</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09682674126991182155</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/TSMZT7tN7yI/AAAAAAAACSA/pOgOpTzZMmA/S220/155131_466084780414_619890414_5844925_3617531_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/Sy4Vn2WnE6I/AAAAAAAABl8/BrapN6ewwPs/s72-c/DSC00535.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-197971195958503036.post-6724904902982443411</id><published>2009-12-22T03:44:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-12-21T11:46:10.303-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/Sy_P9ZlAtsI/AAAAAAAABmU/bnK3Byg1iZg/s1600-h/13659_191563008316.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/Sy_P9ZlAtsI/AAAAAAAABmU/bnK3Byg1iZg/s400/13659_191563008316.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5417777530495088322" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/Sy_P88QxIuI/AAAAAAAABmM/DMLntOR-hUc/s1600-h/2009.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 242px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/Sy_P88QxIuI/AAAAAAAABmM/DMLntOR-hUc/s400/2009.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5417777522625553122" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;I've learned this past year. I’ve changed, I’ve grown. Maybe things do happen for a reason, maybe they don’t. but no matter what, they still happen. That’s what we need to remember. I learned to stop analyzing things, to just let them happen. And if I get hurt, or if something bad happens, then it happens. There’s nothing I can do to change that. I’ve learned to go with my gut, and that it’s okay to make mistakes because the ones that matter, won’t care. I’ve learned that love really is as great as they say it is. I’ve learned that your friends can save you from your worst enemy: yourself. And most importantly, I’ve learned that today is all we have. &lt;a href="http://runawaytrain.tumblr.com/"&gt;:)&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/197971195958503036-6724904902982443411?l=bugfordinner.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bugfordinner.blogspot.com/feeds/6724904902982443411/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=197971195958503036&amp;postID=6724904902982443411&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/197971195958503036/posts/default/6724904902982443411'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/197971195958503036/posts/default/6724904902982443411'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bugfordinner.blogspot.com/2009/12/ive-learned-this-past-year.html' title=''/><author><name>Anthea (born c'92)</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09682674126991182155</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/TSMZT7tN7yI/AAAAAAAACSA/pOgOpTzZMmA/S220/155131_466084780414_619890414_5844925_3617531_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/Sy_P9ZlAtsI/AAAAAAAABmU/bnK3Byg1iZg/s72-c/13659_191563008316.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-197971195958503036.post-6425549677103917070</id><published>2009-12-20T14:39:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-12-20T05:13:09.206-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/Sy4bNs151MI/AAAAAAAABmE/94lJvUgyY0A/s1600-h/500.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 222px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/Sy4bNs151MI/AAAAAAAABmE/94lJvUgyY0A/s400/500.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5417297323962782914" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/197971195958503036-6425549677103917070?l=bugfordinner.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bugfordinner.blogspot.com/feeds/6425549677103917070/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=197971195958503036&amp;postID=6425549677103917070&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/197971195958503036/posts/default/6425549677103917070'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/197971195958503036/posts/default/6425549677103917070'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bugfordinner.blogspot.com/2009/12/blog-post_20.html' title=''/><author><name>Anthea (born c'92)</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09682674126991182155</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/TSMZT7tN7yI/AAAAAAAACSA/pOgOpTzZMmA/S220/155131_466084780414_619890414_5844925_3617531_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/Sy4bNs151MI/AAAAAAAABmE/94lJvUgyY0A/s72-c/500.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-197971195958503036.post-3535571163790082240</id><published>2009-12-19T01:51:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-12-18T09:51:49.502-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/Syu4qc-olLI/AAAAAAAABlc/zStou9PJVLc/s1600-h/IMAGE2947.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 268px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/Syu4qc-olLI/AAAAAAAABlc/zStou9PJVLc/s400/IMAGE2947.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5416626016316069042" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.blogger.com/post-create.g?blogID=197971195958503036" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://i588.photobucket.com/albums/ss323/bugfordinner/ku16baR3p.gif" alt="" border="0" width="400" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/center&gt;Hi my bbyg, you should know you're one of the few important people in my life. I do cherish all the wonderful times we spend together; we eat laugh sleep dance pretend joke like there's no tomorrow. Although there may be times we get unhappy, but we can never ignore each other for more than a day. We were good friends 8 years ago, then we fought really hard but reconciled back when we were in primary 4. Don't mean to rake up the past but it's such a funny thing whenever we recall of it, isnt it? Hey y'know it does affect me when I see you all upset. I understand that not a single human being will be contented in life, but don't y'know you are so much more fortunate than the rest of the population which probably get even worse heart-breaks than you? Difficult times like now will help you to understand things better than before, and you tend to get smarter in future, no? I'm always by your side, cross my heart. Ready to catch you when you fall, or clean off the vanilla ice cream- look alike birdshit on your bag&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/197971195958503036-3535571163790082240?l=bugfordinner.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bugfordinner.blogspot.com/feeds/3535571163790082240/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=197971195958503036&amp;postID=3535571163790082240&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/197971195958503036/posts/default/3535571163790082240'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/197971195958503036/posts/default/3535571163790082240'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bugfordinner.blogspot.com/2009/12/hi-my-bbyg-you-should-know-youre-one-of.html' title=''/><author><name>Anthea (born c'92)</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09682674126991182155</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/TSMZT7tN7yI/AAAAAAAACSA/pOgOpTzZMmA/S220/155131_466084780414_619890414_5844925_3617531_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/Syu4qc-olLI/AAAAAAAABlc/zStou9PJVLc/s72-c/IMAGE2947.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-197971195958503036.post-2826593848461986820</id><published>2009-12-19T00:32:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-12-18T08:52:21.360-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/SyTxRWudXZI/AAAAAAAABk8/M7yY-gGjRBg/s1600-h/12454_193821461238.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/SyTxRWudXZI/AAAAAAAABk8/M7yY-gGjRBg/s400/12454_193821461238.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5414717932466691474" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/SyuqZlzV63I/AAAAAAAABlM/xiBgKmZP3n0/s1600-h/15768.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/SyuqZlzV63I/AAAAAAAABlM/xiBgKmZP3n0/s400/15768.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5416610333464062834" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;So I enjoyed my wednesday spent with Mumsie, eldest bro n his gf Nicole. I did my hair, had massage which I liked a lot, shopped a little and ate like a cow. We had yummy steamboat at 11 0'clock and bro drove us back to sg around 2am. PS: I like my bro's new gf a lot, she's very understanding and sweet. Definitely not a spendthrift- (ok enuff' said) and she cleans up my brother's house like it's her own. Also, I feel they are a cute couple cos 1 my bro did not hold his ex's hand while they walk, 2 didnt hug her and kiss her forehead when they bicker over trivial matter, and lastly 3 I never once seen him holding his left hand so tightly to hers while using only his other hand to drive. Perfecto! See, I made her sound so nice, but yeah in actual fact she is!! Not exaggerating here or anything. But holy crow, she's super small-sized and her calves are almost equivalent to my arms. Ok they kept saying she looks damn young while I am more CAO LAO when I stand next to her, y'all know what's caolao right? Mature in a not so-nice tone. owellz&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Highlight of the day: Sweetest girl/fave cousin Nicole came over to my place knowing I'm sick. We had fish porridge, something bland but ended up having more crackers and a tub of ice-cream which I forced myself very hard not to consume the night before. Well, my willpower died when Nicole was here today, so I had quite a lot of junk food even though my throat was really bad. Then, in the evening I told her to create some elves video and she was laughing to herself the whole time while making them. I was feeling really terrible and nose was so killing me slowly, therefore I lay down on my bed like an old woman with zero strength. Pathetic as I sound, I feel like cutting off my nose, slice off my throat and hit my head with a hammer till the pain stops&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I still remember that when I was younger, I had sore throat almost twice a month. It wasn't a good feeling at all, and Mom as caring as she is like now, always make an effort to make sure I get better soon enuff'. The frown on her face never disappear unless I get well. These few days, I've been sleeping a lot at home. Ah I definitely need all this sleeping which I neglected so much lately cos of work. Now that I am no longer as busy as a bee, I'll be able to spend more time with the girls. And oh I'm going for some concert with my family tomorrow! It's gonna be fun cos it's the company that matters, as much as I'd like to admit I dont really have an interest in that kinda concert. My eldest bro paid for all the tix though, and having the best seats. So it'll be really sad if anyone can't make it. Die-die make it happen pls, cus we dont get such family gathering or chance all the time, where everyone will be around. Altho I'm really sick and the back of my head has been throbbing to the extreme since last night, but I can't afford to miss this rare opportunity/get-together&lt;br /&gt;Getting so sick like this is definitely not the most perfect ending to a week that is already quite horrible. My immune system is seriously screwed. But yay I got tix to Paramore's concert in march and I'm feeling a tad better!!!!!! I think I've said quite a lot here, so ok out now&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/197971195958503036-2826593848461986820?l=bugfordinner.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bugfordinner.blogspot.com/feeds/2826593848461986820/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=197971195958503036&amp;postID=2826593848461986820&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/197971195958503036/posts/default/2826593848461986820'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/197971195958503036/posts/default/2826593848461986820'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bugfordinner.blogspot.com/2009/12/so-i-enjoyed-my-wednesday-spent-with.html' title=''/><author><name>Anthea (born c'92)</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09682674126991182155</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/TSMZT7tN7yI/AAAAAAAACSA/pOgOpTzZMmA/S220/155131_466084780414_619890414_5844925_3617531_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/SyTxRWudXZI/AAAAAAAABk8/M7yY-gGjRBg/s72-c/12454_193821461238.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-197971195958503036.post-4415719231570616743</id><published>2009-12-15T00:22:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-12-14T08:23:17.296-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>My nose is stuffy and my eyes are puffy, my throat is burning and my lips are cracking. I can feel a fever coming! Hall was extremely cold today cus 1. I stood inside for a goddamn 10 hours and 2. the crowd was small. I was frozen like ice the whole time and had to go to washroom to hand dry myself with hot air. I drank so much water, visited the washroom like 10 times, excluding the times I went to just blow my hands. All this drinking doesnt help. This aunt cheated my $. She told me Calamansi &amp;amp; Plum was good for the throat Ok I was literally losing my voice and irritated to the maximum, with my eye vision really blur and going berserk, so I bought it without second thoughts. Yes I lost my mind. Got back, colleague was like NO-NO DONT DRINK IT cus it'd make it worse. And indeed my throat felt like sand paper afterwards, hurts like fuck when saliva goes down. Sux&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have off-day tmrrw (which is technically today), considering taking leave on wed as well so I can get out of sg with my eldest bro. Speaking of which, I am gonna take a break on the 19th, to spend time with my family for some concert. Next, I will go for a short vacation on x'mas. Not gonna be like an enthu hardworking ass who works practically everyday of her life away and not spending quality time with family n friends, missing out all the fun n stuff. Shoot people like as mentioned down. Hmm what excuse should I give to get away on wednesday? My dog ate my jeans? My mouth's ripped open cos I wanted to clear my throat so badly?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/197971195958503036-4415719231570616743?l=bugfordinner.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bugfordinner.blogspot.com/feeds/4415719231570616743/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=197971195958503036&amp;postID=4415719231570616743&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/197971195958503036/posts/default/4415719231570616743'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/197971195958503036/posts/default/4415719231570616743'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bugfordinner.blogspot.com/2009/12/my-nose-is-stuffy-and-my-eyes-are-puffy.html' title=''/><author><name>Anthea (born c'92)</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09682674126991182155</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/TSMZT7tN7yI/AAAAAAAACSA/pOgOpTzZMmA/S220/155131_466084780414_619890414_5844925_3617531_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-197971195958503036.post-904204547104030640</id><published>2009-12-13T22:14:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-12-13T06:27:48.610-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://fivenineteen.tumblr.com/"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/SyT3AubmrXI/AAAAAAAABlE/XMnS2PUKazw/s400/kq4rtw100.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5414724243842051442" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;small&gt;&lt;small&gt;Since my 10th birthday, I’ve always been out of the country, except for last year, which was stupid anyway because I was leaving that night and only got to have some fun during the day, I still remember it was great though cos there was a picnic and Tashi baked me a cake and Rae sang me happy birthday on guitar :) oh guilt, I didn’t spend much time with my family that day :( &lt;span&gt;&lt;u&gt;but I guess one of my favourite birthdays of all time was my sweet sixteenth. Didn’t even have a big party or anything, just the company of one person who I love and appreciate, so so much :) it was one of the most memorable days of my life filled with midnight 7-11 runs, doughuts, no candles, the worst hair cut I’ve ever performed (I have to say I’ve improved so much from there :P), camwhore attempts…attempts only! &amp;amp; cutting my own hair short, talking till early in the morning, “let’s go for a jog at 5am”, bday kisses &amp;amp; cuddles and the one of the best letters I’ve ever recieved to this day (still on my wall :D)&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/span&gt; - thinking about all the birthdays I remember has made me come to this conclusion. Screw huge fuss and extra stuff, I’m more of a little details sort of person, if I can tell you care, that’s all I need.&lt;/small&gt;&lt;/small&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt; PS: Happy Birthday Whitney. You are the best, and that goes without saying. Thanks for always believing in me.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/197971195958503036-904204547104030640?l=bugfordinner.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bugfordinner.blogspot.com/feeds/904204547104030640/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=197971195958503036&amp;postID=904204547104030640&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/197971195958503036/posts/default/904204547104030640'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/197971195958503036/posts/default/904204547104030640'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bugfordinner.blogspot.com/2009/12/since-my-10th-birthday-ive-always-been.html' title=''/><author><name>Anthea (born c'92)</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09682674126991182155</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/TSMZT7tN7yI/AAAAAAAACSA/pOgOpTzZMmA/S220/155131_466084780414_619890414_5844925_3617531_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/SyT3AubmrXI/AAAAAAAABlE/XMnS2PUKazw/s72-c/kq4rtw100.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-197971195958503036.post-8909843382959830612</id><published>2009-12-11T00:00:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-12-10T08:00:05.559-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/Sx_Iudbnx7I/AAAAAAAABkU/aH7bSAApsDY/s1600-h/12454_190782401238.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/Sx_Iudbnx7I/AAAAAAAABkU/aH7bSAApsDY/s400/12454_190782401238.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5413265977622644658" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;This pic that Carrie's holding onto was taken like 2 years ago, on Nicole's birthday. Liang Dfxyhynt brought us for stingray rice at Clarke Quay. It was such a memorable day!!!!1 And he got enlisted in army just yesterday. Say hi to botak boy&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/SyEVPsNfpzI/AAAAAAAABkc/MYMHHT42tEU/s1600-h/480.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/SyEVPsNfpzI/AAAAAAAABkc/MYMHHT42tEU/s400/480.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5413631586386028338" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;(Meet the bff)&lt;br /&gt;So today, had a lot of sushi at cityhall with my girls n Jack. Laughed too much and we were goddamn full or else we could have eaten more! We headed back to JE and had more fish and chicken, nice catching up with my old classmate Nicky. Still remember that Jack and Nicky were the class's more crappiest and pervertic guys around. But without them it's no fun at all. You guys are gonnna go bkk in days' time, come back no matter what and not become bapok pls!!!&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/197971195958503036-8909843382959830612?l=bugfordinner.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bugfordinner.blogspot.com/feeds/8909843382959830612/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=197971195958503036&amp;postID=8909843382959830612&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/197971195958503036/posts/default/8909843382959830612'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/197971195958503036/posts/default/8909843382959830612'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bugfordinner.blogspot.com/2009/12/this-pic-that-carries-holding-onto-was.html' title=''/><author><name>Anthea (born c'92)</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09682674126991182155</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/TSMZT7tN7yI/AAAAAAAACSA/pOgOpTzZMmA/S220/155131_466084780414_619890414_5844925_3617531_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/Sx_Iudbnx7I/AAAAAAAABkU/aH7bSAApsDY/s72-c/12454_190782401238.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-197971195958503036.post-3455172989579274738</id><published>2009-12-10T00:02:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-12-13T05:43:45.416-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>On tues, besides meeting with the chubby bunnies, caught up with my old friend Jack as well. We had big fishes, sushi and a huge chicken. Jack said that I eat a lot, cause recently he doesn't eat as much as before so he was very amazed that I still hv such a huge appetite. We talked about our shit plan. Watched a crappy night movie.It was a nice catch up though, x&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/Sx_F9HrfOVI/AAAAAAAABjc/ox1qFRczJVA/s1600-h/12454_190898816238.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5413262930946767186" style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 400px; cursor: pointer; height: 266px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/Sx_F9HrfOVI/AAAAAAAABjc/ox1qFRczJVA/s400/12454_190898816238.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/Sx_F-jK9SfI/AAAAAAAABj8/WaCgN9fupyU/s1600-h/12454_191261406238.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5413262955506387442" style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 400px; cursor: pointer; height: 266px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/Sx_F-jK9SfI/AAAAAAAABj8/WaCgN9fupyU/s400/12454_191261406238.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/Sx_F-AtfyLI/AAAAAAAABj0/E6t9XTYxbvw/s1600-h/12454_191204871238.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5413262946256013490" style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 400px; cursor: pointer; height: 266px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/Sx_F-AtfyLI/AAAAAAAABj0/E6t9XTYxbvw/s400/12454_191204871238.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/Sx_F92CzzAI/AAAAAAAABjs/YVy4p98FQCs/s1600-h/12454_190903756238.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5413262943392615426" style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 400px; cursor: pointer; height: 266px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/Sx_F92CzzAI/AAAAAAAABjs/YVy4p98FQCs/s400/12454_190903756238.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/Sx_F9QGeMeI/AAAAAAAABjk/kEwFILRLXpk/s1600-h/12454_190889291238.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5413262933207429602" style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 400px; cursor: pointer; height: 266px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/Sx_F9QGeMeI/AAAAAAAABjk/kEwFILRLXpk/s400/12454_190889291238.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/Sx_HJE8QjmI/AAAAAAAABkM/cwVkHTthS_U/s1600-h/IMG_1297.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5413264235881860706" style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 400px; cursor: pointer; height: 300px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/Sx_HJE8QjmI/AAAAAAAABkM/cwVkHTthS_U/s400/IMG_1297.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/Sx_HI3qoAYI/AAAAAAAABkE/vJAo2Ruvgrs/s1600-h/DSC00469.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5413264232318239106" style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 400px; cursor: pointer; height: 300px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/Sx_HI3qoAYI/AAAAAAAABkE/vJAo2Ruvgrs/s400/DSC00469.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;(Anybody can eat my face)&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/SyTtqxL-rYI/AAAAAAAABks/YeYRnMRmfog/s1600-h/DSC00486.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/SyTtqxL-rYI/AAAAAAAABks/YeYRnMRmfog/s400/DSC00486.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5414713971020049794" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://i588.photobucket.com/albums/ss323/bugfordinner/anigif1.gif" alt="" border="0" width="400" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;My third bro's POP in the morning. I was so sleepy I fell asleep everywhere, in the cab, boat to tekong, bus, parade square. Went over to Nicole's place, we retardedkidz laughed like usual and had apples in bed. We fell asleep while eating. 2 hours later, I woke up and she was tidying her room hahaha. So, had dinner and watched telly with the family. Like it when we spend time like this :-)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/197971195958503036-3455172989579274738?l=bugfordinner.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bugfordinner.blogspot.com/feeds/3455172989579274738/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=197971195958503036&amp;postID=3455172989579274738&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/197971195958503036/posts/default/3455172989579274738'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/197971195958503036/posts/default/3455172989579274738'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bugfordinner.blogspot.com/2009/12/on-tues-besides-meeting-with-chubby.html' title=''/><author><name>Anthea (born c'92)</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09682674126991182155</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/TSMZT7tN7yI/AAAAAAAACSA/pOgOpTzZMmA/S220/155131_466084780414_619890414_5844925_3617531_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/Sx_F9HrfOVI/AAAAAAAABjc/ox1qFRczJVA/s72-c/12454_190898816238.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-197971195958503036.post-7791356239165383095</id><published>2009-12-08T01:42:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-12-07T09:42:22.057-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>The day didn't go well. To argue with someone so dear was definitely not an enjoyable thing. It's not like something I could choose, could I? When the situation just happens to cock up because of another matter just as important. I didn't ask for that, neither could I stop it from happening. So it wasn't really my fault at all, or was it?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I left home in anger, tears in my eye rims. I 'm glad the cool breeze that came all of a sudden calmed me down. 'Cos I knew if I didn't step out at that moment, I was gonna kill someone. Well, literally. Worse, my sweetheart made me wait for an hour!! She reached at cck 1.50pm when my briefing was 2 o'clock at Aljunied some stupid road called Kallang Pudding Rd with a lot of industries and companies, and the cab driver took me round and round. Was so sick throughout the whole journey. But could never be mad with that cutiepie starrieglamgal for long, so we went to eat almost all the food at FEP after that. Walked around a little, saw nice jeans everywhere at ion orchard, and since it's time to get 'em nice ones. But I spent all my money on cab fare AND FOOD. Kkthxisuck&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We chilled and sat down at a cafe, had heart-to-heart talk. I told her about my perspectives on life, to how useless I feel of myself cos I am not doing enough productive things, to the friends I wanna keep, to those I wanna forget and simply get rid of, then to everything. I spoke in a very.. i don't know sad, or rather, helpless way and I am not even sure if that was me speaking to her just now. Cos I thought I was already over the worry stage, that I won't be such a worrier anymore. Just in the morning, I was talking about the quote- Carpe Diem. It doesn't suit me at all, Whit. I admit I still think a lot, always so concerned of the future. I can never stop worrying for a sec or possibly quit thinking of a hundred what ifs. What if everything balls up when I am only starting to enjoy the good things? What if things don't work? What if they go tits up when they are slowly going back into place? Fuck this shit&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Is it the cold weather these days or what that is making me so nostalgic? Sometimes I really dislike myself for thinking so much, then drowning myself in endless pity~~ sobsob with such long post when there's no need to. Ahsux2bme!!kkgo2hell. This post is not even half of what I've written in my diary. No people, y'all don't make own assumptions like I am having a hard time finding myself in life, or that I am a huge sucker with a large 'L' emblazoned across my forehead. It's just a couple of thoughts here. G2g, meeting Joleydaniels &amp;amp; the rest at 10 in the morning. Sweet dreams, x&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/Sx0878xi31I/AAAAAAAABjU/qGzxpM1J-DI/s1600-h/20090210095108.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/Sx0878xi31I/AAAAAAAABjU/qGzxpM1J-DI/s400/20090210095108.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5412549327793086290" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;HELLO AARONE, YOU ARE THE BREAD I AM THE EGG KK HEHE!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/197971195958503036-7791356239165383095?l=bugfordinner.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bugfordinner.blogspot.com/feeds/7791356239165383095/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=197971195958503036&amp;postID=7791356239165383095&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/197971195958503036/posts/default/7791356239165383095'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/197971195958503036/posts/default/7791356239165383095'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bugfordinner.blogspot.com/2009/12/day-didnt-go-well.html' title=''/><author><name>Anthea (born c'92)</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09682674126991182155</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/TSMZT7tN7yI/AAAAAAAACSA/pOgOpTzZMmA/S220/155131_466084780414_619890414_5844925_3617531_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/Sx0878xi31I/AAAAAAAABjU/qGzxpM1J-DI/s72-c/20090210095108.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-197971195958503036.post-7449816130807441943</id><published>2009-12-08T01:20:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-12-07T09:48:54.586-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;anthea says:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;font-family:arial;" &gt;PiscesMonkey Alvin Wong added you as a friend on Facebook...‏&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;semosial. the name watch out&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;font-family:courier new;" &gt;Blackarttattoo 爱与恨 added you as a friend on Facebook...‏&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;semosial!!! whats up with these people&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;carrie says:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;HAHAHAHAAHAHAHAHHAAHAHHAHA&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/197971195958503036-7449816130807441943?l=bugfordinner.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bugfordinner.blogspot.com/feeds/7449816130807441943/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=197971195958503036&amp;postID=7449816130807441943&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/197971195958503036/posts/default/7449816130807441943'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/197971195958503036/posts/default/7449816130807441943'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bugfordinner.blogspot.com/2009/12/anthea-says-piscesmonkey-alvin-wong.html' title=''/><author><name>Anthea (born c'92)</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09682674126991182155</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8AujVEIpTw/TSMZT7tN7yI/AAAAAAAACSA/pOgOpTzZMmA/S220/155131_466084780414_619890414_5844925_3617531_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
