<?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-3060900281666557403</id><updated>2012-02-04T19:05:06.178+08:00</updated><category term='dark'/><category term='chris pine'/><category term='pictures'/><category term='trying out salsa'/><category term='new hampshire'/><category term='relationship'/><category term='infection'/><category term='funny'/><category term='tired'/><category term='hotel'/><category term='I love this neurotic folks.'/><category term='newton'/><category term='this is me being melancholic'/><category term='comic'/><category term='still'/><category term='poll'/><category term='love for a child'/><category term='updates'/><category 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term='obviously I was joking about the sentiment'/><category term='randomness'/><category term='one republic'/><category term='red'/><category term='skyline'/><category term='street'/><category term='poem'/><category term='no explanation needed'/><category term='monday'/><category term='accent'/><category term='strip'/><category term='states'/><category term='beach'/><category term='hong kong'/><category term='quote'/><category term='song'/><category term='christmas'/><category term='Harry Potter'/><category term='what&apos;s your default look?'/><category term='geeks'/><category term='and finding out that it&apos;s not my thing. it&apos;s dangerous.'/><category term='brownie'/><category term='fringe'/><category term='time flies'/><category term='hungover'/><category term='sleep'/><category term='beautiful'/><category term='my musical playlist'/><category term='vegas'/><category term='yoga'/><category term='topic'/><category term='memories'/><category term='boyband'/><category term='planes'/><category term='class'/><category term='flu'/><category term='singapore'/><category term='random perspective'/><category term='spotlight'/><category term='i&apos;m so nervous exclamation point exclamation point'/><category term='happiness'/><category term='ben folds'/><category term='9 am is inhumane'/><category term='500 days of summer'/><category term='update'/><category term='e.e. cummings'/><category term='friends'/><category term='exam'/><category term='long'/><category term='living alone'/><category term='navigation'/><category term='tequila'/><category term='nick hornby'/><category term='birthday'/><category term='stress'/><category term='english'/><category term='vacation'/><category term='apology'/><category term='puke'/><category term='party'/><category term='look alike'/><category term='new year resolution'/><category term='drunk'/><category term='music'/><category term='bored'/><category term='weekend'/><category term='man of my dream'/><category term='book'/><category term='depressed'/><category term='trip'/><category term='television'/><category term='sinful'/><category term='errand'/><category term='updates and the usual'/><category term='lanterns'/><category term='robert frost'/><category term='day'/><category term='friendship'/><category term='december'/><category term='twitter'/><category term='venice'/><category term='quotes'/><category term='series'/><category term='the month June'/><category term='katy perry'/><category term='healthy'/><title type='text'>teena's blog</title><subtitle type='html'>long, rambling, and probably not worth reading.</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://xteena21.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3060900281666557403/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://xteena21.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><link rel='next' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3060900281666557403/posts/default?start-index=101&amp;max-results=100'/><author><name>t e e n a</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12522403060096402233</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hZTrdTdZ6xk/TCDSBu5yD4I/AAAAAAAABUI/khqkaqHXHIo/S220/31965_406589962528_517712528_4269979_2824041_n.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>667</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3060900281666557403.post-9044183888631502548</id><published>2012-01-31T14:10:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2012-01-31T14:10:40.307+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='beautiful'/><title type='text'>The secret.</title><content type='html'>I used to think that finding the right one was about the man having a list of certain qualities. If he has them, we'd be compatible and happy. Sort of a checkmark system that was a complete failure. But I found out that a healthy relationship isn't so much about sense of humor or intelligence or attractive. It's about avoiding partners with harmful traits and personality types. And then it's about being with a good person. A good person on his own, and a good person with you. Where the space between you feels uncomplicated and happy. A good relationship is where things just work. They work because, whatever the list of qualities, whatever the reason, you happen to be really, really good together.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3060900281666557403-9044183888631502548?l=xteena21.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://xteena21.blogspot.com/feeds/9044183888631502548/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3060900281666557403&amp;postID=9044183888631502548' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3060900281666557403/posts/default/9044183888631502548'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3060900281666557403/posts/default/9044183888631502548'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://xteena21.blogspot.com/2012/01/secret.html' title='The secret.'/><author><name>t e e n a</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12522403060096402233</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hZTrdTdZ6xk/TCDSBu5yD4I/AAAAAAAABUI/khqkaqHXHIo/S220/31965_406589962528_517712528_4269979_2824041_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3060900281666557403.post-5846116618943267761</id><published>2012-01-11T15:30:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2012-01-11T15:30:59.819+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='beautiful'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='quotes'/><title type='text'>- from Supernova</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size: x-large;"&gt;Berhentilah merasa hampa. Berhentilah minta tolong untuk dilengkapi. Berhentilah berteriak-teriak ke sesuatu di luar sana. Berhentilah bersikap seperti ikan di dalam kolam yang malah mencari-cari air. Tidak ada seorang pun mampu melengkapi apa yang sudah utuh.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3060900281666557403-5846116618943267761?l=xteena21.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://xteena21.blogspot.com/feeds/5846116618943267761/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3060900281666557403&amp;postID=5846116618943267761' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3060900281666557403/posts/default/5846116618943267761'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3060900281666557403/posts/default/5846116618943267761'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://xteena21.blogspot.com/2012/01/from-supernova.html' title='- from Supernova'/><author><name>t e e n a</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12522403060096402233</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hZTrdTdZ6xk/TCDSBu5yD4I/AAAAAAAABUI/khqkaqHXHIo/S220/31965_406589962528_517712528_4269979_2824041_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3060900281666557403.post-1548920929091709594</id><published>2012-01-06T16:07:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2012-01-06T16:07:30.924+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='randomness'/><title type='text'>Top Ten List</title><content type='html'>Here are the top 10 (but not limited, and in no chronological order) reasons why my boyfriend rules:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;1) He puts up with my emotional hurryhah-ness&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Just last night, I was feeling wide awake even though it was already past midnight and my brain has been yelling “go sleep, woman!” for my own good. But I couldn’t seem to fall into sleep. Even though he was busy at work, he still made time to reply to my non-important messages and entertained me on the phone until it was over 3 in the morning when I finally started feeling sleepy. He even had to eat his supper while talking to me because I was just being so damn high-maintenance. Seriously, I wouldn’t even date me. He’s really a star and I love him for putting up with all my highs and lows.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;2) He makes the best love poem&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On our first month anniversary, he wrote me a poem. (Actually, he insisted that the poem wasn’t done yet but I kinda forced him to give it to me. But psst. Let’s just pretend he gave it to me willingly.) It was a simple poem, written in his unruly handwritings (which I love. I love people’s handwritings, and especially his. I could be biased. Totally.) It wasn’t Shakespeare’s masterpiece, but it was the sweetest thing he could have given me at the time. I hold it dearly and it still makes me grin the widest and toothiest grin whenever I see it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;3) His constant reassuring ways to let me know that he loves me&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I get jealous. I get insecure. Some other guys probably don’t have the patience to entertain their girlfriends whenever this happens. A friend of mine once shared with me that her boyfriend would just say “don’t be ridiculous” and leave it at that when she admitted of being jealous about something. My boyfriend is the most awesome, loving guy who has never failed to reassure me that I have nothing to be jealous about. He does it so perfectly that I can do nothing but believe him. Just thinking about it makes me want to run up to him and give him a super big hug right now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;4) He has just the right amount of dorkiness that complement mine perfectly&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I’m a dork, and this has been pointed out by people a lot of times before. Sometimes I do ridiculous and embarrassing things just to amuse myself, like dancing around the house, or pretending to speak with an accent. But with my boyfriend, it’s not just that he understands and gets me perfectly down to my dorkiest cell, he’s also the dorkiest, most adorable person I have ever met. When everyone would just look at me and laugh whenever I did something silly, my boyfriend would crack me up by doing something even more embarrassing or taking part in the said-silly thing with me. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;5) His love for movies, songs, places, pepper lunch and banana honey prata with ice cream&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I could not imagine being with someone who doesn’t enjoy going to the movies, or seeing new places while traveling, or sharing my big appetite for food, and all of these things - my boyfriend is the perfect companion. We go to the movies a few times a week and we love planning for travel schemes and sharing new things together, and hey! Who would’ve known, he shares my love for crabs, pepper lunch and banana honey prata with ice cream too! Seriously, is there anything else I could ask for? He rocks.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;6) His unapologetic passion for things he loves&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I love people with great passion. I think it shows individuality and uniqueness as a person, and I find it really attractive. I love that my boyfriend is addicted to Transformers, I love that he knows all Manchester United players and stats at the back of his hand, and I love that during our recent visit to Dinosaurs Exhibition, he could point out all the Dino facts they got wrong and corrected them. I love that he’s unapologetic about them, and I love it even more that even though we don’t necessarily share the same passion, we find ways to always respect each other’s.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;7) His patience for tolerating my cheesiness, mushiness and manjaness&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have a cheesy streak the size of a bull. And when these things hit, he patiently listens, entertains, or try to out-cheeses me, always makes me smile. He never belittles my feelings, or makes fun of these perfectly mock-able traits of mine. Instead, all of the time he hugs me and tells me that he *enter the cheesiest verb you can think of* too.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;8) He has the most awesome laugh&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think we all agree that laughter is the best medicine. We can’t take life too seriously and it’s easy when your boyfriend has the most awesome laugh. Mine laughs without inhibitions, loud and infectious. His laughter is the loudest in the room, and I can’t help but laugh along, ruffling his hair playfully because he’s just so adorable.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;9) His listening ear&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I’m pretty convinced he must have a magic ear for always being ready to listen to my ramblings and stories (which I’m sure he’s not even remotely interested in half of the time). But he never fails to be there for me. Always. Sometimes I take this for granted, but whenever I think about it, I’m so very grateful for his constant willingness to lend me a listening ear, a shoulder to cry on, or any of his other body parts for my emotional well-being. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;10) He’s a writer&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A great one at that. I’ve always had a thing for writers. I wish there are some better explanations for this, but I just think writers are really sexy. I love seeing his writings, a part of me cheers along whenever I see his name on the paper, and I can’t be prouder that he’s mine. (audience cue: “aaaawwww.”)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;11) He reads my mind and completes my sentences&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Is he secretly a Jedi? *wishful*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Okay, that was 11. Ooops.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;See? I told you I have the best boyfriend in whole world.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3060900281666557403-1548920929091709594?l=xteena21.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://xteena21.blogspot.com/feeds/1548920929091709594/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3060900281666557403&amp;postID=1548920929091709594' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3060900281666557403/posts/default/1548920929091709594'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3060900281666557403/posts/default/1548920929091709594'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://xteena21.blogspot.com/2012/01/top-ten-list.html' title='Top Ten List'/><author><name>t e e n a</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12522403060096402233</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hZTrdTdZ6xk/TCDSBu5yD4I/AAAAAAAABUI/khqkaqHXHIo/S220/31965_406589962528_517712528_4269979_2824041_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3060900281666557403.post-6661161402494827288</id><published>2011-12-31T12:02:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2011-12-31T12:05:25.142+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='randomness'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='love'/><title type='text'>New Year, New Beginnings.</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-8tYE5UFcn5c/Tv6JGcRP-eI/AAAAAAAABn0/KcLOs5yeavg/s1600/tumblr_lvq10xXkR71qhmhdfo1_500.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="199" rea="true" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-8tYE5UFcn5c/Tv6JGcRP-eI/AAAAAAAABn0/KcLOs5yeavg/s320/tumblr_lvq10xXkR71qhmhdfo1_500.jpg" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;Who doesn’t love New Year? I always find it incredibly hopeful – the mere impression that we could wash away any negative and bad experience we had in the past, and start fresh again. This year has been really kind to me, a much better one that the previous, and for that, I’m superbly grateful. I feel like at last I can rest at somewhere constant. This is true in terms of job, family and friends. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In the upcoming year, I’m sure I’m going to find new challenges. As of now, I’m already thinking about getting a new job although hearing about all the plans my boss has for next year is actually pretty exciting, so we’ll see about that. Some of my friends are getting married and it seems like everyone’s moving ahead. Or at least, just moving. Although it has been a blissful year, but I know I have to get out of my comfort zone and try something different too. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My hope for the new year is to have the courage to do just that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sometimes I wish I could just fast-forward the time just to see if in the end it’s all worth it, but since such time machine has yet to be invented, all we can do is continue doing our best in everything.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Happy New Year, everyone! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-EyIhHi99B5Y/Tv6JDhYwahI/AAAAAAAABns/hUx8Qgjhlz0/s1600/IMG-20111221-WA0005a.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" rea="true" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-EyIhHi99B5Y/Tv6JDhYwahI/AAAAAAAABns/hUx8Qgjhlz0/s320/IMG-20111221-WA0005a.jpg" width="240" /&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/3060900281666557403-6661161402494827288?l=xteena21.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://xteena21.blogspot.com/feeds/6661161402494827288/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3060900281666557403&amp;postID=6661161402494827288' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3060900281666557403/posts/default/6661161402494827288'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3060900281666557403/posts/default/6661161402494827288'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://xteena21.blogspot.com/2011/12/new-year-new-beginnings.html' title='New Year, New Beginnings.'/><author><name>t e e n a</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12522403060096402233</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hZTrdTdZ6xk/TCDSBu5yD4I/AAAAAAAABUI/khqkaqHXHIo/S220/31965_406589962528_517712528_4269979_2824041_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-8tYE5UFcn5c/Tv6JGcRP-eI/AAAAAAAABn0/KcLOs5yeavg/s72-c/tumblr_lvq10xXkR71qhmhdfo1_500.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3060900281666557403.post-4501961015550757539</id><published>2011-12-07T13:10:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2011-12-07T13:11:53.509+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Almost there.</title><content type='html'>I know what I'm most grateful for this year.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3060900281666557403-4501961015550757539?l=xteena21.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://xteena21.blogspot.com/feeds/4501961015550757539/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3060900281666557403&amp;postID=4501961015550757539' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3060900281666557403/posts/default/4501961015550757539'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3060900281666557403/posts/default/4501961015550757539'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://xteena21.blogspot.com/2011/12/almost-there.html' title='Almost there.'/><author><name>t e e n a</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12522403060096402233</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hZTrdTdZ6xk/TCDSBu5yD4I/AAAAAAAABUI/khqkaqHXHIo/S220/31965_406589962528_517712528_4269979_2824041_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3060900281666557403.post-213763322416962842</id><published>2011-11-22T13:13:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2011-11-22T13:13:25.075+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='beautiful'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='quote'/><title type='text'>Quote of The Day</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size: x-large;"&gt;"When I say “I love you,” its not because I want you or because I can’t have you. It has nothing to do with me. I love what you are, what you do, and how you try. I’ve seen your kindness and your strength. I’ve seen the best and the worst of you. And I understand with perfect clarity exactly what and who you are."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3060900281666557403-213763322416962842?l=xteena21.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://xteena21.blogspot.com/feeds/213763322416962842/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3060900281666557403&amp;postID=213763322416962842' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3060900281666557403/posts/default/213763322416962842'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3060900281666557403/posts/default/213763322416962842'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://xteena21.blogspot.com/2011/11/quote-of-day_22.html' title='Quote of The Day'/><author><name>t e e n a</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12522403060096402233</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hZTrdTdZ6xk/TCDSBu5yD4I/AAAAAAAABUI/khqkaqHXHIo/S220/31965_406589962528_517712528_4269979_2824041_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3060900281666557403.post-8918501573153724553</id><published>2011-11-03T22:57:00.004+08:00</published><updated>2011-11-03T22:57:51.365+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='beautiful'/><title type='text'>Everything.</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-eMI1E6v6alU/TrKrtR7FRRI/AAAAAAAABnc/gqQ1zLFx0MY/s1600/tumblr_ltzu2z1JCk1qzx5i0o1_1280.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-eMI1E6v6alU/TrKrtR7FRRI/AAAAAAAABnc/gqQ1zLFx0MY/s320/tumblr_ltzu2z1JCk1qzx5i0o1_1280.png" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"&gt;I was so scared that night. I was falling in love for the first time. And I was so unsure. But I did it. And while it hasn’t been easy, it has been everything.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3060900281666557403-8918501573153724553?l=xteena21.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://xteena21.blogspot.com/feeds/8918501573153724553/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3060900281666557403&amp;postID=8918501573153724553' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3060900281666557403/posts/default/8918501573153724553'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3060900281666557403/posts/default/8918501573153724553'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://xteena21.blogspot.com/2011/11/everything.html' title='Everything.'/><author><name>t e e n a</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12522403060096402233</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hZTrdTdZ6xk/TCDSBu5yD4I/AAAAAAAABUI/khqkaqHXHIo/S220/31965_406589962528_517712528_4269979_2824041_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-eMI1E6v6alU/TrKrtR7FRRI/AAAAAAAABnc/gqQ1zLFx0MY/s72-c/tumblr_ltzu2z1JCk1qzx5i0o1_1280.png' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3060900281666557403.post-4011113265512779137</id><published>2011-11-03T11:48:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2011-11-03T11:48:47.216+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='friendship'/><title type='text'>The best.</title><content type='html'>It’s always great seeing your good friend after a long absence. My friendship with Wazzy has always been so natural that we don’t really need to see each other in a weekly basis or update each other all the time, yet it’s like we fall right into where we left off when we meet again. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It’s been a while since I met her the last time, and I genuinely miss her. Last night we talked about anything and everything under the sun, about our work life, our travel stories and plans and our respective friends over seafood aglio olios and yummy onion rings. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It’s almost surreal to think that it’s already some two years ago when we were both rocking the clubs almost every week. She has always been there for me when I met some random jerks yet again, and I've tried my best to be there for her during a scary stalkerish situation with her ex. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I love how we can look back and remember all the great memories we’ve had together, knowing that we are still creating many more of those along the way.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3060900281666557403-4011113265512779137?l=xteena21.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://xteena21.blogspot.com/feeds/4011113265512779137/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3060900281666557403&amp;postID=4011113265512779137' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3060900281666557403/posts/default/4011113265512779137'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3060900281666557403/posts/default/4011113265512779137'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://xteena21.blogspot.com/2011/11/best.html' title='The best.'/><author><name>t e e n a</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12522403060096402233</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hZTrdTdZ6xk/TCDSBu5yD4I/AAAAAAAABUI/khqkaqHXHIo/S220/31965_406589962528_517712528_4269979_2824041_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3060900281666557403.post-2916402129696633292</id><published>2011-11-02T12:57:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2011-11-02T12:57:51.465+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='beautiful'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='quote'/><title type='text'>Quote of the Day</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-aF8Uazm_EUI/TrDNlTakLaI/AAAAAAAABnU/ZECBKd-Wv78/s1600/tumblr_ltu9y5lqDO1qam9d1o1_400_large.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" ida="true" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-aF8Uazm_EUI/TrDNlTakLaI/AAAAAAAABnU/ZECBKd-Wv78/s320/tumblr_ltu9y5lqDO1qam9d1o1_400_large.jpg" width="209" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: x-large;"&gt;In the arithmetic of love, one plus one equals everything, and two minus one equals nothing. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;— ― Mignon McLaughlin, The Complete Neurotic’s Notebook&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3060900281666557403-2916402129696633292?l=xteena21.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://xteena21.blogspot.com/feeds/2916402129696633292/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3060900281666557403&amp;postID=2916402129696633292' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3060900281666557403/posts/default/2916402129696633292'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3060900281666557403/posts/default/2916402129696633292'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://xteena21.blogspot.com/2011/11/quote-of-day.html' title='Quote of the Day'/><author><name>t e e n a</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12522403060096402233</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hZTrdTdZ6xk/TCDSBu5yD4I/AAAAAAAABUI/khqkaqHXHIo/S220/31965_406589962528_517712528_4269979_2824041_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-aF8Uazm_EUI/TrDNlTakLaI/AAAAAAAABnU/ZECBKd-Wv78/s72-c/tumblr_ltu9y5lqDO1qam9d1o1_400_large.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3060900281666557403.post-4148784565937699669</id><published>2011-11-02T10:56:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2011-11-02T11:01:52.803+08:00</updated><title type='text'>On being the (dorky) one</title><content type='html'>Back in my advance diploma class, I wrote an essay about being a middle child. There's a theory that says middle child often feels forgotten or ignored and thus, she becomes one that is most different than her siblings, or that she would crave for attention elsewhere because she can’t find it at home. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don’t find it true based on my experience because I never felt like my parents gave me less attention than they did my sisters while growing up. I’m fortunate to have the best parents in the world who have always provided everything and anything I ever needed. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As a kid, I’ve always been the joker in the family, doing ridiculous and embarrassing stuffs and trying to make everyone laugh. It’s something I took pride of, being able to launch into the ultimate daddy’s girl, clinging into my mom’s arm and acting like I was 5 years old, or cracking lame jokes and being the loud one. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As I get older and I become more conscious about people’s perception of me, I started thinking that maybe people wouldn’t take me seriously if I keep acting this way. It takes some failed attempts to realize that I can’t be anything else. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;'Be yourself', they say. But I say, of course. Who else would I be, then? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;From something I used to be really proud of, to something I tried to change, to something I want to cherish now. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Who says a 24 year old girl can’t sing Justin Bieber at home like nobody’s business? Or that she can’t say dorky, lame things at the risk of embarrassing herself? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And I guess the fact that a girl has a dorky streak in her gene, doesn’t mean that she can’t be taken seriously. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am who I am today because of the things I’ve been through, and if it teaches me any, is that we have to treasure every moment and be happy because life is too short to be miserable. And being able to laugh at one-self is the most important thing we can do. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Knowing when to laugh and not to take things too seriously is how we become adults. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And people who can’t appreciate that you’re ‘dorky’ aren’t worth your time.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3060900281666557403-4148784565937699669?l=xteena21.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://xteena21.blogspot.com/feeds/4148784565937699669/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3060900281666557403&amp;postID=4148784565937699669' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3060900281666557403/posts/default/4148784565937699669'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3060900281666557403/posts/default/4148784565937699669'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://xteena21.blogspot.com/2011/11/on-being-dorky-one.html' title='On being the (dorky) one'/><author><name>t e e n a</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12522403060096402233</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hZTrdTdZ6xk/TCDSBu5yD4I/AAAAAAAABUI/khqkaqHXHIo/S220/31965_406589962528_517712528_4269979_2824041_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3060900281666557403.post-4435071943879967040</id><published>2011-10-24T18:01:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2011-10-24T18:01:42.531+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='beautiful'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='quotes'/><title type='text'>No turning back.</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-o4v1LAy9TMo/TqU1woKfC-I/AAAAAAAABnM/aotYXi6ezIs/s1600/tumblr_ltk7pmuAN51qb0mzzo1_500.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="240" rda="true" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-o4v1LAy9TMo/TqU1woKfC-I/AAAAAAAABnM/aotYXi6ezIs/s320/tumblr_ltk7pmuAN51qb0mzzo1_500.jpg" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: x-large;"&gt;Have you ever lost someone you love and wanted one more conversation, one more chance to make up for the time when you thought they would be here forever? If so, then you know you can go your whole life collecting days, and none will outweigh the one you wish you had back.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3060900281666557403-4435071943879967040?l=xteena21.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://xteena21.blogspot.com/feeds/4435071943879967040/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3060900281666557403&amp;postID=4435071943879967040' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3060900281666557403/posts/default/4435071943879967040'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3060900281666557403/posts/default/4435071943879967040'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://xteena21.blogspot.com/2011/10/no-turning-back.html' title='No turning back.'/><author><name>t e e n a</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12522403060096402233</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hZTrdTdZ6xk/TCDSBu5yD4I/AAAAAAAABUI/khqkaqHXHIo/S220/31965_406589962528_517712528_4269979_2824041_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-o4v1LAy9TMo/TqU1woKfC-I/AAAAAAAABnM/aotYXi6ezIs/s72-c/tumblr_ltk7pmuAN51qb0mzzo1_500.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3060900281666557403.post-6379284347999740432</id><published>2011-10-13T17:48:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2011-10-13T17:48:52.850+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='rant'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='updates and the usual'/><title type='text'>Past few weeks...</title><content type='html'>Hey there! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I haven’t been writing much but things are colossally busy these past few weeks! Work has just been a major drag (eh I mean, joy! *looks around suspiciously*) that some days just passed by like a blur and I had no time to do anything else. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know that sounds just like an excuse, but it’s not! Really, really! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, just some highlights worth mentioning (to look back when I’m 40 years old in my rocking chair – wait, I don’t think 40 year-olds are supposed to be in a rocking chair yet! But what to do, I’m a lazy bum that way. My ambition in life? To retire early so I have all the time in the world to go traveling.) &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My friend (bless you, Jonny boy in case you’re reading) has always mocked me for being a spoilt brat. He uses the term ‘Miss Reilly’ (bless you and your ridiculous yet adorable Irish phrases! I’d take Miss Reilly to Miss Spoilt Brat all day.) He has this impression that I can just bat my eyelids and get whatever I want. Sigh, if only life is that simple. I would invest heavily on my eyelashes. The only person that would fall for that trick is probably just my Dad. (Hello, Dad! I love you! Can I move in to your new apartment for free? *bats eyelashes*) &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The reason why I’m saying this is because in my grand plan of retiring early and traveling the world, I missed out one tiny, little fact. That money just doesn’t grow on trees. Which explains why I’m slaving my days away. It’s an investment, see. Towards early retirement. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So yeah. Back to the highlights. Over the past few weeks I… &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Went to Port Dickson with a dear friend. It was so beautiful there, and I’ve never felt so close to the sea before! (Well, actually, I have, but you can’t compare it to Italy! It’s unfair!) It was pretty sweet though, I give you that. Our room was directly viewing the sea and we even had an open window and a balcony overlooking the water. Aside from the room being huge with a capital h, the bathroom has a Jacuzzi and the shower was open in the middle of the space! It’s not like I felt like a porn star every time I took a shower, but how often do we get to like, bathe in an open space that big? Can’t help but making silly poses as I was scrubbing my body with soap. Psst. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Watched Westlife in concert! Shweet, shweet. Thanks to dearie who managed to get us tickets, we watched the concert for free! I’ve been an avid fan since my awkward early teen days and it was so much fun seeing them live. They sounded great live too! I’ve always had a major crush on Mark (cmon, that deep voice, serious, intense look, who doesn’t? So what if he swings the other way?) but after that concert, I have an equally major crush on Shane. His voice was amazing, those lads really seemed like fun, genuine guys in real life. Awesome experience. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Watched ridiculous amounts of movies. Well, this is pretty much a given. Being a major movie geek, I watch movies probably more than average, but it used to be that I dragged my sisters or had to arrange for dates with friends to see a movie (because I just don’t like seeing movie alone. (I tried, I blogged about it, it was sad. The day I watched a movie alone is a sad, sad day.) But now, thank goodness for dearie (bless his handsome, sweet face) that he’s ‘obligated’ to watch all these movies with me (romantic comedies included). Mwahaha. Hey, I’m sure he enjoys it too. Right? Right? Right? (I’m gonna ask the next time I see him just to be completely sure.) &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Got tickets to see Wicked! This is probably something that runs in the family (or at least, just between me and my sisters), but we love music and films and combine them both? Sold! It’s a pity that the only live musicals I have ever watched were probably some Disney on Ices and Cinderella Musical. I saw Les Miserables concert on DVD and it’s really one musical I *must* see if I ever have the chance to. I’m not quite familiar with Wicked or Wizard of Oz for that matter, but this looks really good so we got the tickets to watch the show in December and I’m excited! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Have been going out with dearie for four months. I know it sounds so short in words. I even cringed as I wrote it. Four. Four. Just four months. Only one hundred and twenty days? Okay, okay, I’m going to stop being dramatic. (Drama queen Miss Reilly is talking). But really? Four months? I go in to Ion Orchard and come out from there in four months. I tried on clothes and go shopping in four months. I spend four months waiting when friends come late on our meetups. You don’t feel this way after dating for just four months! But as cheesy as it sounds, I do. (Please shoot me.) So really, I’m grateful any day even when we have just been going out for four months and it’s equivalent to the amount of time I (the vain me) spend getting ready for dates. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Bought a new laptop and vowed to eat grass for the next month. No explanation needed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm officially broke. Enough said.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3060900281666557403-6379284347999740432?l=xteena21.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://xteena21.blogspot.com/feeds/6379284347999740432/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3060900281666557403&amp;postID=6379284347999740432' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3060900281666557403/posts/default/6379284347999740432'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3060900281666557403/posts/default/6379284347999740432'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://xteena21.blogspot.com/2011/10/past-few-weeks.html' title='Past few weeks...'/><author><name>t e e n a</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12522403060096402233</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hZTrdTdZ6xk/TCDSBu5yD4I/AAAAAAAABUI/khqkaqHXHIo/S220/31965_406589962528_517712528_4269979_2824041_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3060900281666557403.post-6349428815769470672</id><published>2011-10-12T11:20:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2011-10-12T11:20:31.307+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='beautiful'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='quotes'/><title type='text'>- from The Man of My Dreams</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-70e9TmSevus/TpUGwtHIwxI/AAAAAAAABnE/H1K2WqEA0Fk/s1600/tumblr_lsvv1u4Ey21qzb7gjo1_500.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="240" kca="true" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-70e9TmSevus/TpUGwtHIwxI/AAAAAAAABnE/H1K2WqEA0Fk/s320/tumblr_lsvv1u4Ey21qzb7gjo1_500.jpg" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: x-large;"&gt;Perhaps this is how you know you're doing the thing you're intended to: No matter how slow or how slight your progress, you never feel that it's a waste of time.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3060900281666557403-6349428815769470672?l=xteena21.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://xteena21.blogspot.com/feeds/6349428815769470672/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3060900281666557403&amp;postID=6349428815769470672' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3060900281666557403/posts/default/6349428815769470672'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3060900281666557403/posts/default/6349428815769470672'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://xteena21.blogspot.com/2011/10/from-man-of-my-dreams.html' title='- from The Man of My Dreams'/><author><name>t e e n a</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12522403060096402233</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hZTrdTdZ6xk/TCDSBu5yD4I/AAAAAAAABUI/khqkaqHXHIo/S220/31965_406589962528_517712528_4269979_2824041_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-70e9TmSevus/TpUGwtHIwxI/AAAAAAAABnE/H1K2WqEA0Fk/s72-c/tumblr_lsvv1u4Ey21qzb7gjo1_500.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3060900281666557403.post-5853314762507118599</id><published>2011-10-08T12:21:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2011-10-12T11:16:06.377+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='randomness'/><title type='text'>Humble.</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-9_to-If8pf8/To_Pv2ZBGlI/AAAAAAAABnA/FpB01CdXQag/s1600/300691_10150843888635043_647115042_21055212_325567637_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-9_to-If8pf8/To_Pv2ZBGlI/AAAAAAAABnA/FpB01CdXQag/s320/300691_10150843888635043_647115042_21055212_325567637_n.jpg" width="272" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3060900281666557403-5853314762507118599?l=xteena21.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://xteena21.blogspot.com/feeds/5853314762507118599/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3060900281666557403&amp;postID=5853314762507118599' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3060900281666557403/posts/default/5853314762507118599'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3060900281666557403/posts/default/5853314762507118599'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://xteena21.blogspot.com/2011/10/humble.html' title='Humble.'/><author><name>t e e n a</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12522403060096402233</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hZTrdTdZ6xk/TCDSBu5yD4I/AAAAAAAABUI/khqkaqHXHIo/S220/31965_406589962528_517712528_4269979_2824041_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-9_to-If8pf8/To_Pv2ZBGlI/AAAAAAAABnA/FpB01CdXQag/s72-c/300691_10150843888635043_647115042_21055212_325567637_n.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3060900281666557403.post-5184840963968872191</id><published>2011-10-05T17:40:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2011-10-06T09:42:34.778+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='rant'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='this is me being melancholic'/><title type='text'>Fear.</title><content type='html'>I have a problem. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know I’m not the easiest person in the whole world, but I never thought that I may be the most complicated either. I have a friend who is so laid-back I don’t think he ever gets mad, ever. Of course he does, but it seems like he rarely lets things get to him, and I always ask him how. He just shrugs and looks at me that gets me thinking that maybe that kinda thing comes hereditary. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The thing is. It’s almost as if I have a fighting mechanism against happiness. The moment things start to go well.. I start getting rashes and I would screw everything up. Yet, I crave nothing more than just being happy. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I’m not even talking about the kind of epiphany or dramatic happiness. It doesn’t have to be the kind of joy that makes me want to dance around the house, or makes me feel like I just won the lottery. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It’s the day-to-day happiness that makes you smile as you wake up in the morning, and as you go to bed at night. It doesn’t have to be a looney grin either. Just a content one will do. I want to count my blessings and realize how much I have going on to be grateful. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But instead, I’m focused on the bad and negative things. Of course life isn’t perfect. But why do I let those imperfect things that I can’t control, affect how I feel about everything else I have? Why can’t I pull myself away from these negative, destructive thoughts which do no good than just burying myself even deeper into the big black pitch that is this negativity? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It doesn’t happen all the time, but it comes in waves, sometimes in the least unexpected times, catching me off guard. It’s really affecting me that I start exaggerating the situation, making myself feel even worse without reason. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don’t know what I’m so afraid of. Why I’m being the way I am. I don’t remember ever feeling like this before. At least, not this intensely that I can feel it creeping at me at nights. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I feel like, I’m valuing something too much that I’m becoming too afraid of it being taken away from me. I’m scared because now I can’t imagine how I’m going to be without it. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But so what? Do I value it too much more than I value myself? To let myself be consumed of these thoughts? Why can’t I just be…happy? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why is it hard for me to believe that maybe, I have everything I ever wanted? Why is it almost impossible for me to think that maybe this time, things work out? Why do I have to look for troubles and be negative when I can be happy? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Maybe the key is to love myself first and foremost. Maybe I need to put more faith in people. That there are some people out there worth trusting. That there are people who will not hurt you on purpose. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know this is something I have to deal with on my own. Changing my attitude and releasing myself off negative thoughts. But I feel helpless. I haven’t been much of a religious person in the past four years but now I feel like I need it more than ever. To ask for help and support from something that is beyond my own being. Because I know what I’m feeling will not just affect me, but eventually others too, and it’s the least thing I want to do. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don’t know when to start. But all I know is that I’m pretty much broken. I’m full of layers and layers of irrational thoughts and I know I have to peel them away yet I’m still figuring out how. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I need help because I’m afraid one day I’m just going to break because I can’t handle it anymore. I need help for the sake of the people around me, and most importantly, for me. Because there should be no one else I’d value more than myself.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3060900281666557403-5184840963968872191?l=xteena21.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://xteena21.blogspot.com/feeds/5184840963968872191/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3060900281666557403&amp;postID=5184840963968872191' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3060900281666557403/posts/default/5184840963968872191'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3060900281666557403/posts/default/5184840963968872191'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://xteena21.blogspot.com/2011/10/fear.html' title='Fear.'/><author><name>t e e n a</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12522403060096402233</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hZTrdTdZ6xk/TCDSBu5yD4I/AAAAAAAABUI/khqkaqHXHIo/S220/31965_406589962528_517712528_4269979_2824041_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3060900281666557403.post-1893567862545568276</id><published>2011-10-04T15:45:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2011-10-04T15:45:03.314+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='beautiful'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='quote'/><title type='text'>Love.</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-ZZTduvvATvE/Toq5Wfs0sDI/AAAAAAAABm8/puSSHF7i5lM/s1600/tumblr_lo5jvgTIBm1qjnw8vo1_500.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="213" kca="true" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-ZZTduvvATvE/Toq5Wfs0sDI/AAAAAAAABm8/puSSHF7i5lM/s320/tumblr_lo5jvgTIBm1qjnw8vo1_500.jpg" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: x-large;"&gt;Real love makes you stronger, helps you grow more and go farther. And everything that is special about you is brought to life. Real love is peaceful and soothing. It is family. It helps you to blossom.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3060900281666557403-1893567862545568276?l=xteena21.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://xteena21.blogspot.com/feeds/1893567862545568276/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3060900281666557403&amp;postID=1893567862545568276' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3060900281666557403/posts/default/1893567862545568276'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3060900281666557403/posts/default/1893567862545568276'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://xteena21.blogspot.com/2011/10/love.html' title='Love.'/><author><name>t e e n a</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12522403060096402233</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hZTrdTdZ6xk/TCDSBu5yD4I/AAAAAAAABUI/khqkaqHXHIo/S220/31965_406589962528_517712528_4269979_2824041_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-ZZTduvvATvE/Toq5Wfs0sDI/AAAAAAAABm8/puSSHF7i5lM/s72-c/tumblr_lo5jvgTIBm1qjnw8vo1_500.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3060900281666557403.post-705405203952898569</id><published>2011-10-02T18:10:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2011-10-02T18:10:21.018+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='beautiful'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='quote'/><title type='text'>desire.</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"&gt;I know what I want and what I want is right here with you.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3060900281666557403-705405203952898569?l=xteena21.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://xteena21.blogspot.com/feeds/705405203952898569/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3060900281666557403&amp;postID=705405203952898569' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3060900281666557403/posts/default/705405203952898569'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3060900281666557403/posts/default/705405203952898569'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://xteena21.blogspot.com/2011/10/desire.html' title='desire.'/><author><name>t e e n a</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12522403060096402233</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hZTrdTdZ6xk/TCDSBu5yD4I/AAAAAAAABUI/khqkaqHXHIo/S220/31965_406589962528_517712528_4269979_2824041_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3060900281666557403.post-4577412497774144265</id><published>2011-09-15T15:25:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2011-09-15T15:25:40.487+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='quotes'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='movie'/><title type='text'>Love, actually.</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-aujCzLgDoqM/TnGnyaBRrwI/AAAAAAAABm4/xHHt11C12L0/s1600/love-actually.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="236" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-aujCzLgDoqM/TnGnyaBRrwI/AAAAAAAABm4/xHHt11C12L0/s400/love-actually.jpg" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;With any luck, by next year - I'll be going out with one of these girls. [shows pictures of beautiful supermodels]&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;But for now, let me say - Without hope or agenda - Just because it's Christmas - And at Christmas you tell the truth - To me, you are perfect - And my wasted heart will love you - Until you look like this. [picture of a mummy] &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Merry Christmas. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3060900281666557403-4577412497774144265?l=xteena21.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://xteena21.blogspot.com/feeds/4577412497774144265/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3060900281666557403&amp;postID=4577412497774144265' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3060900281666557403/posts/default/4577412497774144265'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3060900281666557403/posts/default/4577412497774144265'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://xteena21.blogspot.com/2011/09/love-actually.html' title='Love, actually.'/><author><name>t e e n a</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12522403060096402233</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hZTrdTdZ6xk/TCDSBu5yD4I/AAAAAAAABUI/khqkaqHXHIo/S220/31965_406589962528_517712528_4269979_2824041_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-aujCzLgDoqM/TnGnyaBRrwI/AAAAAAAABm4/xHHt11C12L0/s72-c/love-actually.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3060900281666557403.post-7147886442710479112</id><published>2011-09-15T15:18:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2011-09-15T15:18:31.813+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='beautiful'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='quotes'/><title type='text'>Extraordinary.</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-V6-uouow-kc/TnGmhkHkzkI/AAAAAAAABmw/gVivFYTSuhM/s1600/tumblr_lljm56ksdB1qaobbko1_500.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="213" rba="true" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-V6-uouow-kc/TnGmhkHkzkI/AAAAAAAABmw/gVivFYTSuhM/s320/tumblr_lljm56ksdB1qaobbko1_500.jpg" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: x-large;"&gt;We can be extraordinary together rather than ordinary apart. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3060900281666557403-7147886442710479112?l=xteena21.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://xteena21.blogspot.com/feeds/7147886442710479112/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3060900281666557403&amp;postID=7147886442710479112' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3060900281666557403/posts/default/7147886442710479112'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3060900281666557403/posts/default/7147886442710479112'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://xteena21.blogspot.com/2011/09/extraordinary.html' title='Extraordinary.'/><author><name>t e e n a</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12522403060096402233</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hZTrdTdZ6xk/TCDSBu5yD4I/AAAAAAAABUI/khqkaqHXHIo/S220/31965_406589962528_517712528_4269979_2824041_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-V6-uouow-kc/TnGmhkHkzkI/AAAAAAAABmw/gVivFYTSuhM/s72-c/tumblr_lljm56ksdB1qaobbko1_500.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3060900281666557403.post-4390504533806451173</id><published>2011-09-05T15:42:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2011-09-05T17:06:44.315+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='random perspective'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='happiness'/><title type='text'>Hi Me. How are you?</title><content type='html'>You know, I try so hard to please everyone, but in the process, I make myself unhappy. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I convinced myself that by making other people happy, I will be happy too. And sure, that works. But then, doesn’t that just mean that your happiness depend entirely on others? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What about my own happiness? One that comes from &lt;em&gt;me&lt;/em&gt;? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I realized that it’s important that I am happy too. That I need to make me a priority too, instead of pushing my own needs at the back of the line behind everyone else’s. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have to take control of my own life because no one else is gonna do the job. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And really, the one thing I can probably give the people around me is to be happy, fulfilled and satisfied as a daughter, sister, girlfriend, friend. This means, being myself 100%. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I want to be able to live my life truly and passionately. I want my work to be exciting, to really be something that I love doing, something that would make a difference – if not for others, at least for me. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I want to go to the library and read crazy amounts of books like I used to. I want to sit at home, writing creatively about anything and everything. I want to do a Star Wars marathon on DVD. There are plenty of things I have been procrastinating and pushed aside. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I want to be brave and be open to my feelings. Even when they are difficult. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I want to love freely, to just enjoy the ride, to live in the moment. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I used to be so positive and carefree – where did that girl go? Why am I constantly worrying and thinking too much? It’s really exhausting. I can’t spare that amount of energy on top of everything else. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I want to say to myself. Take a deep breath. Chill. Have more faith in&lt;em&gt; you&lt;/em&gt;. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And then, work towards those things that can make you happy. Stop procrastinating. &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3060900281666557403-4390504533806451173?l=xteena21.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://xteena21.blogspot.com/feeds/4390504533806451173/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3060900281666557403&amp;postID=4390504533806451173' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3060900281666557403/posts/default/4390504533806451173'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3060900281666557403/posts/default/4390504533806451173'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://xteena21.blogspot.com/2011/09/hi-me-how-are-you.html' title='Hi Me. How are you?'/><author><name>t e e n a</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12522403060096402233</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hZTrdTdZ6xk/TCDSBu5yD4I/AAAAAAAABUI/khqkaqHXHIo/S220/31965_406589962528_517712528_4269979_2824041_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3060900281666557403.post-3687386278447397747</id><published>2011-09-01T12:12:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2011-09-01T12:12:51.777+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='quote'/><title type='text'>Quote of the Day</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-9D2krVcXPJY/Tl8F_gWlDpI/AAAAAAAABms/TrplsVkxc7Y/s1600/tumblr_lqo5heTv891r0oaaso1_500.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="213" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-9D2krVcXPJY/Tl8F_gWlDpI/AAAAAAAABms/TrplsVkxc7Y/s320/tumblr_lqo5heTv891r0oaaso1_500.jpg" width="320" xaa="true" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: x-large;"&gt;You're alone because you push people away. And someday, nobody is gonna bother coming back. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3060900281666557403-3687386278447397747?l=xteena21.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://xteena21.blogspot.com/feeds/3687386278447397747/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3060900281666557403&amp;postID=3687386278447397747' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3060900281666557403/posts/default/3687386278447397747'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3060900281666557403/posts/default/3687386278447397747'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://xteena21.blogspot.com/2011/09/quote-of-day.html' title='Quote of the Day'/><author><name>t e e n a</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12522403060096402233</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hZTrdTdZ6xk/TCDSBu5yD4I/AAAAAAAABUI/khqkaqHXHIo/S220/31965_406589962528_517712528_4269979_2824041_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-9D2krVcXPJY/Tl8F_gWlDpI/AAAAAAAABms/TrplsVkxc7Y/s72-c/tumblr_lqo5heTv891r0oaaso1_500.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3060900281666557403.post-2043526761356519953</id><published>2011-09-01T12:11:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2011-09-01T12:11:03.323+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='this is me being sentimentil'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='memories'/><title type='text'>Memories.</title><content type='html'>It’s almost been four years. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It’s starting to become a blur, how you usually comb my hair before school. I’m starting to forget how you sound like, how you used to read newspaper in your favorite spot on weekends.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I’m really scared, that I would wake up one day and forget you entirely.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All I have are pictures and memories. So abstract and intangible. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I’m afraid of losing you, and then I realized, that I already did. And then I don’t know how I feel anymore.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3060900281666557403-2043526761356519953?l=xteena21.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://xteena21.blogspot.com/feeds/2043526761356519953/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3060900281666557403&amp;postID=2043526761356519953' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3060900281666557403/posts/default/2043526761356519953'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3060900281666557403/posts/default/2043526761356519953'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://xteena21.blogspot.com/2011/09/memories.html' title='Memories.'/><author><name>t e e n a</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12522403060096402233</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hZTrdTdZ6xk/TCDSBu5yD4I/AAAAAAAABUI/khqkaqHXHIo/S220/31965_406589962528_517712528_4269979_2824041_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3060900281666557403.post-1318980075017434935</id><published>2011-08-29T17:38:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2011-08-29T17:38:27.548+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='randomness'/><title type='text'>Home.</title><content type='html'>I was driving down unfamiliar roads trying to find a place called home. I stuck my arms out the window to try to become a part of the wind to see if I could blow away. I watched my reflection in the mirror as my hair danced and my skin shivered. I watched as I tried to make myself comfortable in a city that holds my belongings. You always said, “Who says where your belongings are is where you belong?” Maybe one day I’ll end up somewhere where I’ll feel like I belong and you won’t be too far behind.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3060900281666557403-1318980075017434935?l=xteena21.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://xteena21.blogspot.com/feeds/1318980075017434935/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3060900281666557403&amp;postID=1318980075017434935' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3060900281666557403/posts/default/1318980075017434935'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3060900281666557403/posts/default/1318980075017434935'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://xteena21.blogspot.com/2011/08/home.html' title='Home.'/><author><name>t e e n a</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12522403060096402233</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hZTrdTdZ6xk/TCDSBu5yD4I/AAAAAAAABUI/khqkaqHXHIo/S220/31965_406589962528_517712528_4269979_2824041_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3060900281666557403.post-6028626024487015518</id><published>2011-08-29T14:49:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2011-08-29T14:49:52.323+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='beautiful'/><title type='text'>For you I wish.</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-moXkzCa2fT4/Tls2VOx1h3I/AAAAAAAABmo/avfjJqLxCGQ/s1600/tumblr_lq5ppeSYJO1qgg8auo1_500.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="214" qaa="true" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-moXkzCa2fT4/Tls2VOx1h3I/AAAAAAAABmo/avfjJqLxCGQ/s320/tumblr_lq5ppeSYJO1qgg8auo1_500.jpg" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: x-large;"&gt;I hope you will have a wonderful year, that you'll dream dangerously and outrageously, that you'll make something that didn't exist before you made it, that you will be loved and that you will be liked, and that you will have people to love and to like in return. And, most importantly (because I think there should be more kindness and more wisdom in the world right now), that you will, when you need to be, be wise, and that you will always be kind.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3060900281666557403-6028626024487015518?l=xteena21.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://xteena21.blogspot.com/feeds/6028626024487015518/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3060900281666557403&amp;postID=6028626024487015518' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3060900281666557403/posts/default/6028626024487015518'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3060900281666557403/posts/default/6028626024487015518'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://xteena21.blogspot.com/2011/08/for-you-i-wish.html' title='For you I wish.'/><author><name>t e e n a</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12522403060096402233</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hZTrdTdZ6xk/TCDSBu5yD4I/AAAAAAAABUI/khqkaqHXHIo/S220/31965_406589962528_517712528_4269979_2824041_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-moXkzCa2fT4/Tls2VOx1h3I/AAAAAAAABmo/avfjJqLxCGQ/s72-c/tumblr_lq5ppeSYJO1qgg8auo1_500.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3060900281666557403.post-6173839005600895859</id><published>2011-08-26T12:27:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2011-08-26T12:27:27.039+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='beautiful'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='quotes'/><title type='text'>Choice.</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-eEfz-du7QNQ/TlcfuBbWhZI/AAAAAAAABmk/58g-I4mSVys/s1600/tumblr_lpgp65DQj01qcggc9o1_500.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="213" qaa="true" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-eEfz-du7QNQ/TlcfuBbWhZI/AAAAAAAABmk/58g-I4mSVys/s320/tumblr_lpgp65DQj01qcggc9o1_500.jpg" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: x-large;"&gt;I guess we are who we are for a lot of reasons. And maybe we'll never know most of them. But even if we don't have the power to choose where we come from, we can still choose where we go from there.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3060900281666557403-6173839005600895859?l=xteena21.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://xteena21.blogspot.com/feeds/6173839005600895859/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3060900281666557403&amp;postID=6173839005600895859' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3060900281666557403/posts/default/6173839005600895859'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3060900281666557403/posts/default/6173839005600895859'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://xteena21.blogspot.com/2011/08/choice.html' title='Choice.'/><author><name>t e e n a</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12522403060096402233</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hZTrdTdZ6xk/TCDSBu5yD4I/AAAAAAAABUI/khqkaqHXHIo/S220/31965_406589962528_517712528_4269979_2824041_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-eEfz-du7QNQ/TlcfuBbWhZI/AAAAAAAABmk/58g-I4mSVys/s72-c/tumblr_lpgp65DQj01qcggc9o1_500.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3060900281666557403.post-1343923947853607848</id><published>2011-08-25T17:47:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2011-08-25T17:50:36.063+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='this is me being sentimentil'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='randomness'/><title type='text'>Nonsensical rant</title><content type='html'>I came across this blog post when I was browsing through the internet. The author wrote a response to another blogger who made a list about why being single rules. This was what she said:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Single:&lt;/em&gt; You can have sex with whoever you want, whenever you want.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Coupled:&lt;/em&gt; You have the best, most intimate, sex ever with one special person.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Single:&lt;/em&gt; You have the time to enjoy all the activities you want to do.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Coupled:&lt;/em&gt; You enjoy all the activities you want to do with someone else.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Single:&lt;/em&gt; You are free to hang out with your friends.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Coupled:&lt;/em&gt; You get to hang out with your best friend all the time&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Does that mean that single people can’t lead a fruitful, wholesome, fulfilling life? Well, not really. Some of my happiest memories occurred when I was single. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think what she meant&amp;nbsp;with that list is that it’s important to be able to feel happy on our own. That our happiness won’t depend entirely on someone else. That’s the first thing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You know, positive, comparative, superlative?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Being with someone whom we love, and if we’re really fortunate, decides to love us back? That just makes things better. It doesn’t mean that things weren’t good to begin with, but it is a different kind of happiness altogether.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I feel like I can really appreciate having dearie in my life now because I'm&amp;nbsp;used to being on my own. Now he is the first person I think about whenever something funny happens at work, whenever I see something good on TV, whenever I just feel like ranting and whining. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It’s an amazing feeling being able to give a little of yourself to someone else. To want to make someone else &lt;em&gt;happy&lt;/em&gt;. That our own happiness is not just what matters. That we’re thinking for two now instead of one. It is humbling, yet at the same time, so full of joy and happiness beyond description.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I’ve always made a mistake for being so negative before when it comes to relationships. I always have that thought in the back of mind that it wouldn’t last. That somehow I would get bored or he would screw it up, or I would screw it up or any 101 other possible scenarios.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I feel really positive now though. I allow myself to hope, to see that maybe this one would be different, that it would last. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You know what? I’m not going to jinx it by being overly dreamy about it (even though I can’t help it because things are going so perfect), but I guess I just want to say this one thing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If (and this is a big IF that I hope won’t ever happen) somehow things don’t work out with me and dearie in the end, there won’t come a time that I regret having him in my life right now. Whatever happens, there's no way. &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3060900281666557403-1343923947853607848?l=xteena21.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://xteena21.blogspot.com/feeds/1343923947853607848/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3060900281666557403&amp;postID=1343923947853607848' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3060900281666557403/posts/default/1343923947853607848'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3060900281666557403/posts/default/1343923947853607848'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://xteena21.blogspot.com/2011/08/nonsensical-rant.html' title='Nonsensical rant'/><author><name>t e e n a</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12522403060096402233</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hZTrdTdZ6xk/TCDSBu5yD4I/AAAAAAAABUI/khqkaqHXHIo/S220/31965_406589962528_517712528_4269979_2824041_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3060900281666557403.post-8719186091872229736</id><published>2011-08-23T17:41:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2011-08-23T17:41:25.216+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='beautiful'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='quotes'/><title type='text'>Good.</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-L_YpHCStPuc/TlN1mFWxvyI/AAAAAAAABmg/XhxpCcq7XqE/s1600/tumblr_lqa5pkroRE1qch30go1_500.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="213" qaa="true" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-L_YpHCStPuc/TlN1mFWxvyI/AAAAAAAABmg/XhxpCcq7XqE/s320/tumblr_lqa5pkroRE1qch30go1_500.jpg" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: x-large;"&gt;Please believe that things are good with me, and even when they're not, they will be soon enough. And I will always believe the same about you.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3060900281666557403-8719186091872229736?l=xteena21.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://xteena21.blogspot.com/feeds/8719186091872229736/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3060900281666557403&amp;postID=8719186091872229736' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3060900281666557403/posts/default/8719186091872229736'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3060900281666557403/posts/default/8719186091872229736'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://xteena21.blogspot.com/2011/08/good.html' title='Good.'/><author><name>t e e n a</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12522403060096402233</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hZTrdTdZ6xk/TCDSBu5yD4I/AAAAAAAABUI/khqkaqHXHIo/S220/31965_406589962528_517712528_4269979_2824041_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-L_YpHCStPuc/TlN1mFWxvyI/AAAAAAAABmg/XhxpCcq7XqE/s72-c/tumblr_lqa5pkroRE1qch30go1_500.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3060900281666557403.post-5704481896634737981</id><published>2011-08-22T10:50:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2011-08-22T10:50:47.637+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='beautiful'/><title type='text'>Happy 3rd. =)</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size: x-large;"&gt;I’m just saying thank you. You reminded me of what I’m capable of feeling. It’s like I was walking around seeing my life through a smudged window, and then I saw you and the smudges were gone. The window was clean.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3060900281666557403-5704481896634737981?l=xteena21.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://xteena21.blogspot.com/feeds/5704481896634737981/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3060900281666557403&amp;postID=5704481896634737981' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3060900281666557403/posts/default/5704481896634737981'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3060900281666557403/posts/default/5704481896634737981'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://xteena21.blogspot.com/2011/08/happy-3rd.html' title='Happy 3rd. =)'/><author><name>t e e n a</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12522403060096402233</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hZTrdTdZ6xk/TCDSBu5yD4I/AAAAAAAABUI/khqkaqHXHIo/S220/31965_406589962528_517712528_4269979_2824041_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3060900281666557403.post-6885376741143003747</id><published>2011-08-20T13:03:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2011-08-20T13:03:33.914+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='beautiful'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='quotes'/><title type='text'>Feel-good Saturday</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ULGDgTnh4nc/Tk8_70u1AHI/AAAAAAAABmU/T_KBm5BtBfc/s1600/tumblr_ln2y3xvYWD1qjrc4bo1_500.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="175" qaa="true" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ULGDgTnh4nc/Tk8_70u1AHI/AAAAAAAABmU/T_KBm5BtBfc/s320/tumblr_ln2y3xvYWD1qjrc4bo1_500.gif" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: x-large;"&gt;Forever isn't long at all when I'm with you. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3060900281666557403-6885376741143003747?l=xteena21.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://xteena21.blogspot.com/feeds/6885376741143003747/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3060900281666557403&amp;postID=6885376741143003747' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3060900281666557403/posts/default/6885376741143003747'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3060900281666557403/posts/default/6885376741143003747'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://xteena21.blogspot.com/2011/08/feel-good-saturday.html' title='Feel-good Saturday'/><author><name>t e e n a</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12522403060096402233</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hZTrdTdZ6xk/TCDSBu5yD4I/AAAAAAAABUI/khqkaqHXHIo/S220/31965_406589962528_517712528_4269979_2824041_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ULGDgTnh4nc/Tk8_70u1AHI/AAAAAAAABmU/T_KBm5BtBfc/s72-c/tumblr_ln2y3xvYWD1qjrc4bo1_500.gif' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3060900281666557403.post-893616953059982086</id><published>2011-08-20T11:59:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2011-08-20T12:01:32.234+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='rant'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='updates and the usual'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='song'/><title type='text'>Saturday, Obvious.</title><content type='html'>Wow, office is so quiet today. Some of my colleagues are helping out with the buffet downstairs, packing stuffs I think. I, on the other hand, have some emails to clear (and blog to write, but that’s just between you and me), so I managed to escape and withdraw myself from the hectic crowds to my peaceful, quiet desk. All I can hear is the soft music from the radio my colleague is playing at the other end, and the comforting clicking sound of keyboards. Personally, I love it. (referring to the sound of keyboard) &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Once again I’m going to count my blessings for yet another wonderful day we have here! Awesome weekend is waiting ahead… in 1.5 hour time! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway,&amp;nbsp;I was re-reading some of my old posts and I came across one which mentioned a song by Westlife, “Obvious”.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Man, that was a good song. &lt;br /&gt;And yes, I’m hopeless for boybands.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I listened to that song religiously when I was in my third year of middle school back in Jakarta. I remember because that was when I started dating my first boyfriend (then.) Anyway, it doesn’t matter now, but what I loved about the song was how much I could relate to it. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Actually, I can sort of still relate to it now. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Before I got together with dearie a couple of months back, I’ve already developed a crush on him for a while somehow and I can’t pinpoint why, aside from the fact that he’s just different. He’s smart and articulate (and this is important, people!) and endearing and unpretentious. Unapologetically sincere. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He was oblivious at that time though, and who could blame him? Apparently when I was around him, my vocabulary immediately shrunk to a pitiful range of words only found in children’s book. Suddenly I blushed, and stammered, and looked away a lot. I wouldn’t like &lt;em&gt;me&lt;/em&gt; either.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Alright, not gonna bore with you the details. That’s not the point of this post! Back to the song, people! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, yeah. Since now you have a bit of a background, listen to the lyrics (or rather, read it) while preferably listen to the song (if you can download it now..) &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ps. Downloading songs is illegal, people! Save our music!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We started as friends &lt;br /&gt;But something happened inside me &lt;br /&gt;Now I'm reading into everything &lt;br /&gt;But there's no sign you hear the lightning, baby &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You don't ever notice me turning on my charm &lt;br /&gt;Or wonder why I'm always where you are &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've made it obvious &lt;br /&gt;Done everything but sing it &lt;br /&gt;(I've crushed on you so long, but on and on you get me wrong) &lt;br /&gt;I'm not so good with words &lt;br /&gt;And since you never notice &lt;br /&gt;The way that we belong &lt;br /&gt;I'll say it in a love song &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've heard you talk about &lt;br /&gt;How you want someone just like me&lt;br /&gt;But everytime I ask you out &lt;br /&gt;We never move pass friendly &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And you don't ever notice how I stare when we're alone &lt;br /&gt;Or wonder why I keep you on the phone &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've made it obvious &lt;br /&gt;Done everything but sing it &lt;br /&gt;(I've crushed on you so long but on and on you get me wrong) &lt;br /&gt;I'm not so good with words &lt;br /&gt;And since you never notice &lt;br /&gt;The way that we belong &lt;br /&gt;I'll say it in a love song &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You are my very first thought in the morning &lt;br /&gt;And my last at nightfall &lt;br /&gt;You are the love that came without warning &lt;br /&gt;I need you, I want you to know &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've made it obvious &lt;br /&gt;So finally I'll sing it &lt;br /&gt;(I've crushed on you so long) &lt;br /&gt;I'm not so good with words &lt;br /&gt;And since you never notice &lt;br /&gt;The way that we belong &lt;br /&gt;I'll say it in a love song &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And sing it until the day you're holding me &lt;br /&gt;I've wanted you so long but on and on you get me wrong &lt;br /&gt;I more than adore you but since you never seem to see &lt;br /&gt;But you never seem to see &lt;br /&gt;I'll say it in this love song&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Awesome, right? I feel nostalgic too as if I’m suddenly transported back in time to the year of my middle school where I used to listen this in my room over and over again before school. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Great, now I’m going to listen to it again…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-PjULje-fkmw/Tk8xUQ2KTXI/AAAAAAAABmQ/0Chw3xaY3QI/s1600/cb93ab6f.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" qaa="true" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-PjULje-fkmw/Tk8xUQ2KTXI/AAAAAAAABmQ/0Chw3xaY3QI/s320/cb93ab6f.jpg" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;tee-hee. =)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3060900281666557403-893616953059982086?l=xteena21.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://xteena21.blogspot.com/feeds/893616953059982086/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3060900281666557403&amp;postID=893616953059982086' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3060900281666557403/posts/default/893616953059982086'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3060900281666557403/posts/default/893616953059982086'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://xteena21.blogspot.com/2011/08/saturday-obvious.html' title='Saturday, Obvious.'/><author><name>t e e n a</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12522403060096402233</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hZTrdTdZ6xk/TCDSBu5yD4I/AAAAAAAABUI/khqkaqHXHIo/S220/31965_406589962528_517712528_4269979_2824041_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-PjULje-fkmw/Tk8xUQ2KTXI/AAAAAAAABmQ/0Chw3xaY3QI/s72-c/cb93ab6f.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3060900281666557403.post-3307368689543644967</id><published>2011-08-19T14:31:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2011-08-19T14:32:45.181+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='beautiful'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='poem'/><title type='text'>— E.E. Cummings</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-ce6mDR3AE60/Tk4C92qUe4I/AAAAAAAABmM/OJUj8aNhpQM/s1600/tumblr_lmzcntWrEb1qcuevoo1_500.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="142" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-ce6mDR3AE60/Tk4C92qUe4I/AAAAAAAABmM/OJUj8aNhpQM/s400/tumblr_lmzcntWrEb1qcuevoo1_500.jpg" width="400" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;“I carry your heart with me (I carry it in my heart)&lt;br /&gt;I am never without it (anywhere I go you go, my dear; &lt;br /&gt;and whatever is done by only me is your doing, my darling) &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I fear no fate (for you are my fate, my sweet)&lt;br /&gt;I want no world (for beautiful you are my world, my true) &lt;br /&gt;and it’s you are whatever a moon has always meant &lt;br /&gt;and whatever a sun will always sing is you &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here is the deepest secret nobody knows &lt;br /&gt;(here is the root of the root and the bud of the bud and the sky of the sky of a tree called life; &lt;br /&gt;which grows higher than the soul can hope or mind can hide) &lt;br /&gt;and this is the wonder that’s keeping the stars apart &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I carry your heart (I carry it in my heart)”&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3060900281666557403-3307368689543644967?l=xteena21.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://xteena21.blogspot.com/feeds/3307368689543644967/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3060900281666557403&amp;postID=3307368689543644967' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3060900281666557403/posts/default/3307368689543644967'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3060900281666557403/posts/default/3307368689543644967'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://xteena21.blogspot.com/2011/08/ee-cummings.html' title='— E.E. Cummings'/><author><name>t e e n a</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12522403060096402233</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hZTrdTdZ6xk/TCDSBu5yD4I/AAAAAAAABUI/khqkaqHXHIo/S220/31965_406589962528_517712528_4269979_2824041_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-ce6mDR3AE60/Tk4C92qUe4I/AAAAAAAABmM/OJUj8aNhpQM/s72-c/tumblr_lmzcntWrEb1qcuevoo1_500.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3060900281666557403.post-1483156932802681419</id><published>2011-08-18T17:18:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2011-08-18T17:19:39.787+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='rant'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='randomness'/><title type='text'>Dear my 20-years old self,</title><content type='html'>Hi, it’s me. Hopefully a more mature version of yourself since I’m currently writing this in the office, where I actually work and gain a stable income every month (bring the bacon home, as the cool kids say it.) I bet you have no idea what you’re going to do when you grow up from where you’re standing right now, do you? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, let me just say that although I may not exactly an award-winning, best-selling author like you dream you were going to be at 24 yet, I’m still doing pretty alright, I guess. But okay, that’s a discussion for another time, okay?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I guess the purpose of me writing to you right now, is just to tell you, that it’s okay being young. It’s okay having fun and going out with your friends because hey, this is the time to do so. But, be careful. Although you may not think so right now, not everyone you meet is going to take care of you and treat you right. Especially the people you meet on your nights out, however cute they may be.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Be wary and suspicious of people; it’s okay. It doesn’t mean that you are incapable of trusting, it just means that you can select who to trust wisely. That way, you won’t get hurt.  And believe me, not everyone is worthy of your trust. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There would be times when you think you have everything in the world to be happy because you have great friends and great parties every week. You’d feel superficially happy because you have different dates every week and random hookups on ladies night. But trust me; there would be times when you feel tired of it all because at the end of the day, these people don’t matter. Confide in your friends, they are the ones that are still going to be there no matter what, so don’t ever take them for granted or choose some insignificant guys over their company.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Having said that, have fun but be smart about it. It’s not attractive getting drunk at 8pm and I know you’ve been through that. (Oops, or haven’t you? Oh spoiler! Watch out, you better be ready for it! SUBA! Ladies night! Free flow of Cosmopolitan! Those little buggers are dangerous!) &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know how you feel sometimes. You see your friends who are happy in their relationships, and you think if you are ever going to get that too. I know how scared you are at commitment. But hey, don’t worry about that yeah? You are young. There are plenty of time for commitments and relationships, and take it from me (and I’m your future self, so you better believe me), you will have that someone who makes you naturally and effortlessly happy, and it’s going to be wonderful because he is awesome and you have the rest of your time to be committed. So really, at 20, you shouldn’t be worrying over this at all. Sadly, you will have to go ‘kiss some frogs’ before you get to this wonderful boy, but it’s okay, it’ll be worth it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Besides, what you have to go through makes me who I am today, right? And at the risk of sounding a lil' boastful, I think I’m turning out to be pretty darn alright. &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3060900281666557403-1483156932802681419?l=xteena21.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://xteena21.blogspot.com/feeds/1483156932802681419/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3060900281666557403&amp;postID=1483156932802681419' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3060900281666557403/posts/default/1483156932802681419'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3060900281666557403/posts/default/1483156932802681419'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://xteena21.blogspot.com/2011/08/dear-my-20-years-old-self.html' title='Dear my 20-years old self,'/><author><name>t e e n a</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12522403060096402233</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hZTrdTdZ6xk/TCDSBu5yD4I/AAAAAAAABUI/khqkaqHXHIo/S220/31965_406589962528_517712528_4269979_2824041_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3060900281666557403.post-5073025978033548381</id><published>2011-08-18T11:33:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2011-08-18T11:34:21.008+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='beautiful'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='poem'/><title type='text'>Poem of the Day</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;Living at the spout&lt;br /&gt;Dreaming to tip&lt;br /&gt;Pour over a soul&lt;br /&gt;Flow through a drip&lt;br /&gt;I only wish to keep away the rain&lt;br /&gt;Live to be cherised&lt;br /&gt;At bay, insane&lt;br /&gt;Beneath the bloom I will see&lt;br /&gt;Whether it ends with you and me&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3060900281666557403-5073025978033548381?l=xteena21.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://xteena21.blogspot.com/feeds/5073025978033548381/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3060900281666557403&amp;postID=5073025978033548381' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3060900281666557403/posts/default/5073025978033548381'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3060900281666557403/posts/default/5073025978033548381'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://xteena21.blogspot.com/2011/08/poem-of-day.html' title='Poem of the Day'/><author><name>t e e n a</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12522403060096402233</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hZTrdTdZ6xk/TCDSBu5yD4I/AAAAAAAABUI/khqkaqHXHIo/S220/31965_406589962528_517712528_4269979_2824041_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3060900281666557403.post-9035975667558003734</id><published>2011-08-16T12:44:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2011-08-16T12:45:28.114+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='beautiful'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='quotes'/><title type='text'>- From 'Looking for Alaska'</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-kAOY0RfCDqA/Tkn1uJvG66I/AAAAAAAABmE/6RK3ANhm6l4/s1600/IMG_1707.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 267px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5641310181494549410" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-kAOY0RfCDqA/Tkn1uJvG66I/AAAAAAAABmE/6RK3ANhm6l4/s400/IMG_1707.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;I wanted so badly to lie down next to her on the couch, to wrap my arms around her and sleep. Not fuck, like in those movies. Not even have sex. Just sleep together, in the most innocent sense of the phrase. But I lacked the courage and she had a boyfriend and I was gawky and she was gorgeous and I was hopelessly boring and she was endlessly fascinating. So I walked back to my room and collapsed on the bottom bunk, thinking that if people were rain, I was drizzle and she was a hurricane.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3060900281666557403-9035975667558003734?l=xteena21.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://xteena21.blogspot.com/feeds/9035975667558003734/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3060900281666557403&amp;postID=9035975667558003734' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3060900281666557403/posts/default/9035975667558003734'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3060900281666557403/posts/default/9035975667558003734'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://xteena21.blogspot.com/2011/08/from-looking-for-alaska.html' title='- From &apos;Looking for Alaska&apos;'/><author><name>t e e n a</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12522403060096402233</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hZTrdTdZ6xk/TCDSBu5yD4I/AAAAAAAABUI/khqkaqHXHIo/S220/31965_406589962528_517712528_4269979_2824041_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-kAOY0RfCDqA/Tkn1uJvG66I/AAAAAAAABmE/6RK3ANhm6l4/s72-c/IMG_1707.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3060900281666557403.post-1672537361736231336</id><published>2011-08-03T13:59:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2011-08-03T13:59:57.364+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='beautiful'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='quotes'/><title type='text'>Quote of The Day</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;You build up all these defenses. You build up a whole armor, for years, so nothing can hurt you, then one stupid person, no different from any other stupid person, wanders into your stupid life… You give them a piece of you. They didn’t ask for it. They did something dumb one day, like kiss you or smile at you, and then your life isn’t your own anymore. Love takes hostages.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- Neil Gaiman, The Sandman&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3060900281666557403-1672537361736231336?l=xteena21.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://xteena21.blogspot.com/feeds/1672537361736231336/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3060900281666557403&amp;postID=1672537361736231336' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3060900281666557403/posts/default/1672537361736231336'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3060900281666557403/posts/default/1672537361736231336'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://xteena21.blogspot.com/2011/08/quote-of-day.html' title='Quote of The Day'/><author><name>t e e n a</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12522403060096402233</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hZTrdTdZ6xk/TCDSBu5yD4I/AAAAAAAABUI/khqkaqHXHIo/S220/31965_406589962528_517712528_4269979_2824041_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3060900281666557403.post-5988064569460499905</id><published>2011-07-27T14:38:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2011-07-27T14:39:31.655+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='beautiful'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='poem'/><title type='text'>Be Thankful</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-f148afdc2wo/Ti-yedL7N5I/AAAAAAAABl8/7IH8sinF8fg/s1600/5748979688_7cd18e0ec7_z.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 384px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5633917895164245906" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-f148afdc2wo/Ti-yedL7N5I/AAAAAAAABl8/7IH8sinF8fg/s400/5748979688_7cd18e0ec7_z.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Be thankful that you don’t already have everything you desire,&lt;br /&gt;If you did, what would there be to look forward to?&lt;br /&gt;Be thankful when you don’t know something&lt;br /&gt;For it gives you the opportunity to learn.&lt;br /&gt;Be thankful for the difficult times.&lt;br /&gt;During those times you grow.&lt;br /&gt;Be thankful for your limitations&lt;br /&gt;Because they give you opportunities for improvement.&lt;br /&gt;Be thankful for each new challenge&lt;br /&gt;Because it will build your strength and character.&lt;br /&gt;Be thankful for your mistakes&lt;br /&gt;They will teach you valuable lessons.&lt;br /&gt;Be thankful when you’re tired and weary&lt;br /&gt;Because it means you’ve made a difference.&lt;br /&gt;It is easy to be thankful for the good things.&lt;br /&gt;A life of rich fulfillment comes to those who are&lt;br /&gt;also thankful for the setbacks.&lt;br /&gt;GRATITUDE can turn a negative into a positive.&lt;br /&gt;Find a way to be thankful for your troubles&lt;br /&gt;and they can become your blessings.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- Author Unknown&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3060900281666557403-5988064569460499905?l=xteena21.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://xteena21.blogspot.com/feeds/5988064569460499905/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3060900281666557403&amp;postID=5988064569460499905' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3060900281666557403/posts/default/5988064569460499905'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3060900281666557403/posts/default/5988064569460499905'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://xteena21.blogspot.com/2011/07/be-thankful.html' title='Be Thankful'/><author><name>t e e n a</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12522403060096402233</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hZTrdTdZ6xk/TCDSBu5yD4I/AAAAAAAABUI/khqkaqHXHIo/S220/31965_406589962528_517712528_4269979_2824041_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-f148afdc2wo/Ti-yedL7N5I/AAAAAAAABl8/7IH8sinF8fg/s72-c/5748979688_7cd18e0ec7_z.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3060900281666557403.post-1255371132216803552</id><published>2011-07-26T17:58:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2011-07-26T18:00:58.344+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='updates and the usual'/><title type='text'>Herelies the problem..</title><content type='html'>Today I finished up a long-overdue proposal (mostly because I’ve been kinda slacking, but pstt, this is just between you and me), and as I drew a relieved sigh, I glanced at the bottom of the page and almost exclaimed unattractively. Holy cow! 17 pages! Seventeen frikkin pages! My words in all their glory..all 17 pages worth of ‘em, in fact.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And yet, I have abandoned this space for a lot longer than I should. And I thought writing leisurely has always been therapeutical! No wonder I’m so stressed with work lately. I just don’t channel the stress the right way.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(Well, I’ve been spending a lot of time with dearie and that should be a stress-free method too, right? Although, every time we do, we stay out late, which results in me not getting enough sleep and probably being even more tired and stressed out the following morning. Oh shit.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well anyway. It wasn’t until earlier when my friend said that she hasn’t been visiting my blog recently and I was like, “Err. You’re probably not missing out much since I hardly update it.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But then as soon as I said it, I felt really, really sad.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No kidding! This really did make me feel sad. There was a point of time I could write my blog every day with anything and everything, and now I can’t even muster a single post because:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don’t know what to write&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don’t have the time to write&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I’m always feeling uninspired&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And somehow these three reasons don’t make me feel better at all.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As if it’s not bad enough that I’m losing the motivation to write, I seem to lose my otherwise brilliant, witty writing personality as well. Without it, what else do I have?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I better tell my boyfriend right away. He should know what he’s getting himself into. I’m no longer the bright and creative soul he once knew and loved.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It’s sad that I could churn up 17 pages worth of words (albeit, probably not very interesting), but I couldn’t even do a single post.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ladies and gentlemen, what has this world become?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hm. See? Even now I’m struggling to find something interesting to say. Do I talk about the recent awesome weekend I had with dearie when we went to watch Lion King the Musical and Harry Potter on IMAX? About how emotional I was during the scene when Harry realized he had to die, until I could feel tears forming in my eyes, and then feel slightly embarrassed about it, because. Oh well, you just don’t cry from seeing Harry Potter. You just don’t. I’m already a sissy as it is.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ah yes. I guess I could talk about &lt;em&gt;that&lt;/em&gt;. Or maybe I could touch a bit about how last week during work I had to sing a song in front of everyone..&lt;em&gt;alone&lt;/em&gt;? Imagine the horror. And about how after that ‘incident’, my colleague made a poster that read “Christina, we believe! The next Singapore Idol!” and pasted it on the wall. He’s forgetting that I’m not even a Singaporean but of course no one really gave a rat’s ass about it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What about the weekend before that when we went to Universal Studio and had a great evening reminiscing being a kid, taking rollercoasters and screaming on the top of our lungs like there was no tomorrow? (oh wait. That was just me. See, I told ya I’m a sissy.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Or maaaaybe. I could write about my Italy adventure?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;THERE! It’s not like I have nothing to write. Now I recognize the core of the problem.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I’m just a lazy ass.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hurray!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now I can go back to thinking that deep down I’m still very much witty, adorable, smart and all those traits are just waiting to burst out in the open again real, real soon! Yay! Now my boyfriend will love me again!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3060900281666557403-1255371132216803552?l=xteena21.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://xteena21.blogspot.com/feeds/1255371132216803552/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3060900281666557403&amp;postID=1255371132216803552' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3060900281666557403/posts/default/1255371132216803552'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3060900281666557403/posts/default/1255371132216803552'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://xteena21.blogspot.com/2011/07/herelies-problem.html' title='Herelies the problem..'/><author><name>t e e n a</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12522403060096402233</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hZTrdTdZ6xk/TCDSBu5yD4I/AAAAAAAABUI/khqkaqHXHIo/S220/31965_406589962528_517712528_4269979_2824041_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3060900281666557403.post-1139161980464213338</id><published>2011-07-25T11:18:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2011-07-25T11:18:50.357+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='beautiful'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='poem'/><title type='text'>Grey</title><content type='html'>You pull beauty towards you--like new moths to a flame&lt;br /&gt;And as I'm drawn before you, I believe I am the same&lt;br /&gt;I'm lovely, melancholic art, a picture in your frame&lt;br /&gt;I've never been so beautiful as when you say my name.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You see the world in fractured light, the colours you downplay&lt;br /&gt;The darkened blacks, the lightened whites, the words you never say&lt;br /&gt;I'll make your lips move through the night, but you will never pray&lt;br /&gt;Let's go somewhere with colour--love, you must escape the grey.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You still command the sunrise--because you paint the stars&lt;br /&gt;The world, it strings your canvas and your heartbreaks are your scars&lt;br /&gt;Wake up--paint the truth for once, it isn't very far&lt;br /&gt;You say that you're not worth the fight, but I know who you are.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You're everything I'll ever breathe, the oceans and the sea&lt;br /&gt;Can't run their waters low enough to find a love this deep&lt;br /&gt;And I'll wade through the darkest depths if it will make you see&lt;br /&gt;You're beautiful, you're worth this, love, you're all there is for me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- Shawna Howson&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;Just beautiful. &amp;lt;3&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3060900281666557403-1139161980464213338?l=xteena21.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://xteena21.blogspot.com/feeds/1139161980464213338/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3060900281666557403&amp;postID=1139161980464213338' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3060900281666557403/posts/default/1139161980464213338'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3060900281666557403/posts/default/1139161980464213338'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://xteena21.blogspot.com/2011/07/grey.html' title='Grey'/><author><name>t e e n a</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12522403060096402233</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hZTrdTdZ6xk/TCDSBu5yD4I/AAAAAAAABUI/khqkaqHXHIo/S220/31965_406589962528_517712528_4269979_2824041_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3060900281666557403.post-5740857180135511552</id><published>2011-07-23T12:50:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2011-07-23T12:53:56.124+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='beautiful'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='quotes'/><title type='text'>The best thing.</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-G-MJi9sidV8/TipTPTKD6wI/AAAAAAAABl0/ORGLXG8Tw-g/s1600/IMG_3058a.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 234px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5632405806285843202" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-G-MJi9sidV8/TipTPTKD6wI/AAAAAAAABl0/ORGLXG8Tw-g/s400/IMG_3058a.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;One of the best things in life is finding someone who knows all your mistakes and weaknesses and still thinks you're completely amazing. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3060900281666557403-5740857180135511552?l=xteena21.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://xteena21.blogspot.com/feeds/5740857180135511552/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3060900281666557403&amp;postID=5740857180135511552' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3060900281666557403/posts/default/5740857180135511552'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3060900281666557403/posts/default/5740857180135511552'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://xteena21.blogspot.com/2011/07/best-thing.html' title='The best thing.'/><author><name>t e e n a</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12522403060096402233</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hZTrdTdZ6xk/TCDSBu5yD4I/AAAAAAAABUI/khqkaqHXHIo/S220/31965_406589962528_517712528_4269979_2824041_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-G-MJi9sidV8/TipTPTKD6wI/AAAAAAAABl0/ORGLXG8Tw-g/s72-c/IMG_3058a.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3060900281666557403.post-7491999853137252490</id><published>2011-07-21T17:46:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2011-07-21T17:47:15.228+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='random perspective'/><title type='text'>Change</title><content type='html'>“Just because everything is different doesn't mean anything has changed.“&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I’m scared of change. I’d like everything to remain the same, because only then would I feel totally in control. I don’t like guessing and anticipating what’s gonna happen next, especially when I’m happy with what I have right now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But that’s not exactly possible, is it? Without change, how can we grow for growth is the only evidence that we’re still living? We have to change, whether we want to or not. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And the key is to stop thinking that change is a bad thing. I read this quote somewhere:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“There is a certain relief in change, even though it be from bad to worse!  As I have often found in travelling in a stagecoach, that it is often a comfort to shift one's position, and be bruised in a new place.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know it’s easier said than done, and trust me, I’m still learning too. I’m still freaking out over changes too. Sometimes I would find myself getting all paranoid or coming up with fake scenarios in my head although they have no base at all. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But if you’re in a bad situation, don’t worry it’ll change. If you’re in a good situation, don’t worry it’ll change too. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I guess that’s the lesson for today, my dear students.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3060900281666557403-7491999853137252490?l=xteena21.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://xteena21.blogspot.com/feeds/7491999853137252490/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3060900281666557403&amp;postID=7491999853137252490' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3060900281666557403/posts/default/7491999853137252490'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3060900281666557403/posts/default/7491999853137252490'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://xteena21.blogspot.com/2011/07/change.html' title='Change'/><author><name>t e e n a</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12522403060096402233</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hZTrdTdZ6xk/TCDSBu5yD4I/AAAAAAAABUI/khqkaqHXHIo/S220/31965_406589962528_517712528_4269979_2824041_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3060900281666557403.post-2789420461961739398</id><published>2011-07-13T13:26:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2011-07-13T13:27:07.677+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='beautiful'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='random perspective'/><title type='text'>higher self, lower self, mask</title><content type='html'>Regarding an ex-girlfriend.&lt;br /&gt;- credit to David Sutcliffe&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The most common story I tell myself is that she’s to blame. If she weren’t so fucked up, so afraid of commitment, so entwined with her mother, so out of touch with her anger, so frigid, so narcissistic, and so unable to get past her own shit—we could work it out. The problem with women is women. They’re crazy. They can’t be trusted. And because they can never really see me, they can never love me. This is my MASK.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I want to punish her for not meeting my expectation of how I want to be loved. I want her to suffer; to feel regret about not doing enough to keep me. I relish the “How to Keep a Man” articles on Yahoo that confirm she did everything wrong. I take pleasure in the fact that I know (or think I know) she’s alone, confused and suffering. It’s what she deserves. It’s what she had coming to her. And I will not forgive her. I will not let it go. This is my LOWER SELF.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Underneath there is deep disappointment and pain, a longing to love and be loved and an understanding that she is human; that she is doing her best; that her intention is true; that she wants the same thing I want and is afraid the same way I am. I know that she is good. This is my HIGHER SELF.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3060900281666557403-2789420461961739398?l=xteena21.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://xteena21.blogspot.com/feeds/2789420461961739398/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3060900281666557403&amp;postID=2789420461961739398' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3060900281666557403/posts/default/2789420461961739398'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3060900281666557403/posts/default/2789420461961739398'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://xteena21.blogspot.com/2011/07/higher-self-lower-self-mask.html' title='higher self, lower self, mask'/><author><name>t e e n a</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12522403060096402233</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hZTrdTdZ6xk/TCDSBu5yD4I/AAAAAAAABUI/khqkaqHXHIo/S220/31965_406589962528_517712528_4269979_2824041_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3060900281666557403.post-7537025185214933862</id><published>2011-07-12T13:18:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2011-07-12T13:20:00.625+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='randomness'/><title type='text'>Creativity needs time.</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-L0CkHKxY2gE/ThvZUaHhMOI/AAAAAAAABls/IL7r83hSu70/s1600/tumblr_lku2w7QXuz1qbnv3wo1_500.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 283px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5628331103961034978" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-L0CkHKxY2gE/ThvZUaHhMOI/AAAAAAAABls/IL7r83hSu70/s400/tumblr_lku2w7QXuz1qbnv3wo1_500.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3060900281666557403-7537025185214933862?l=xteena21.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://xteena21.blogspot.com/feeds/7537025185214933862/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3060900281666557403&amp;postID=7537025185214933862' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3060900281666557403/posts/default/7537025185214933862'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3060900281666557403/posts/default/7537025185214933862'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://xteena21.blogspot.com/2011/07/creativity-needs-time.html' title='Creativity needs time.'/><author><name>t e e n a</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12522403060096402233</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hZTrdTdZ6xk/TCDSBu5yD4I/AAAAAAAABUI/khqkaqHXHIo/S220/31965_406589962528_517712528_4269979_2824041_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-L0CkHKxY2gE/ThvZUaHhMOI/AAAAAAAABls/IL7r83hSu70/s72-c/tumblr_lku2w7QXuz1qbnv3wo1_500.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3060900281666557403.post-7554232085077909680</id><published>2011-07-05T21:05:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2011-07-05T21:12:39.864+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='update'/><title type='text'>Back!</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;I'm back from Italy!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Got truckloads of photos and even more countless amazing memories =) Will blog about it soonish... when I have the time, promise!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3060900281666557403-7554232085077909680?l=xteena21.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://xteena21.blogspot.com/feeds/7554232085077909680/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3060900281666557403&amp;postID=7554232085077909680' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3060900281666557403/posts/default/7554232085077909680'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3060900281666557403/posts/default/7554232085077909680'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://xteena21.blogspot.com/2011/07/back.html' title='Back!'/><author><name>t e e n a</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12522403060096402233</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hZTrdTdZ6xk/TCDSBu5yD4I/AAAAAAAABUI/khqkaqHXHIo/S220/31965_406589962528_517712528_4269979_2824041_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3060900281666557403.post-1621784825400483325</id><published>2011-06-17T17:05:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2011-06-17T17:07:21.022+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='random perspective'/><title type='text'>To the Negative, Moody and Unfriendly.</title><content type='html'>I wonder why some people are just..grumpy. But I'm tellin you, it ain't attractive.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We all have our good and bad days. And I'm not referring to us being moody and grumpy once in a while when everything seems to go wrong. Because that happens, I know. I'm saying it in a more general level. People whose default mood is just...grumpy. Unhappy, moody, negative people who think it's up to them to behave that way, but they don't realize that it affects people around them as well.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's one thing being moody once in a while. It's quite another to be, just, literally depressing, &lt;em&gt;all the freaking time&lt;/em&gt;. I'm your friend, so I would do my best to listen to you, and offer advice, and try to make you feel better. But what good does it do when nothing I say sticks? Because you go back to being depressed and complaining about life again and again and again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then there's people who think that just because they are moody, others have to be too. You don't feel like talking to people, you want to be alone, then so be it. Treating others rudely is completely uncalled for. You think I enjoy talking to you when you're getting all moody and annoying too? Well, news flash, I don't, okay? If it's up to me, I would rather go to..I don't know, Timbuktu or something, rathen than go through this verbal abuse just because you happen to be in a shitty mood. But we all have to deal with it. Sometimes we have no choice but to communicate, even when we don't feel like it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tell us nicely (or fine, you don't &lt;em&gt;even have to smile&lt;/em&gt;, just say it in decent manner) that you are not feeling good today, so ask us to leave you alone. And hey, I will be away from your hair in a second. That bitchy attitude of yours doesn't help at all. If any, you just successfully established yourself as a serious douche.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And now there's the unfriendly kind. I wouldn't say that I'm the friendliest person, but I think I'm okay. I try to make people feel welcomed, because I know how awkward it is being the newbie. At work, for example. I have gone through different internships and jobs to know how weird it can be sometimes not knowing everyone around. I have been the kid who stays back during lunch time because I haven't known anyone yet. So I try to be nicer to new people when it's their turn to be the newbie.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;During a work training, a Singaporean had this to say when this topic was brought up. "Why us? Why must we be the one who approach the newbie? The newbie has to approach us first!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, to this person, I just would like to present him the Douchebag of The Day award because that's what he is, and to all of you too if you think that way. I don't know if you're just a douche by default, or the society has turned you into a bitter person, but seriously, you need help. And I hope one day when the tables are turned, you will get a taste of your medicine. I hope noone, and I mean, noone would talk to you and you would be a lonely, miserable person, sitting alone in your corner without anyone to talk to.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't think it's a matter of being friendly or not, rather than a practice of common decency. If everyone keeps waiting around to be approached first, noone would end up talking to anyone. If that's what you want, then fine. Be miserable on your own.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thing is, sometimes you don't have to be the brightest person around, you don't even have to be the friendliest. All you need is just to be a decent, okay person. Someone who gets down once in a while, but bounces back up because that's what we do. Someone who thinks before they talk because words can be hurtful. Someone who is..&lt;em&gt;okay&lt;/em&gt;, by nature. Not someone bitter, not someone who disregard other people's feelings.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Smiling is good, you know? You probably seldom do it, but try it! It can loosen up those rigid cells in your face (or brain) and make everything seems better. And who knows, god forbid, you may even actually be, gasp! Happy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Be nice, people. Life is way too short to be grumpy.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3060900281666557403-1621784825400483325?l=xteena21.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://xteena21.blogspot.com/feeds/1621784825400483325/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3060900281666557403&amp;postID=1621784825400483325' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3060900281666557403/posts/default/1621784825400483325'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3060900281666557403/posts/default/1621784825400483325'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://xteena21.blogspot.com/2011/06/to-negative-moody-and-unfriendly.html' title='To the Negative, Moody and Unfriendly.'/><author><name>t e e n a</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12522403060096402233</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hZTrdTdZ6xk/TCDSBu5yD4I/AAAAAAAABUI/khqkaqHXHIo/S220/31965_406589962528_517712528_4269979_2824041_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3060900281666557403.post-481875184631402378</id><published>2011-06-14T15:58:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2011-06-14T16:00:50.658+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='this is me being melancholic'/><title type='text'>Real.</title><content type='html'>This is going to be a very mushy post, so please avert your eyes or skip this entirely if you have just taken your lunch. I'm not responsible for any of your digestive problems.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Okay, ready? Well, don't tell me you haven't been warned.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, where to begin. I think I may end up blushing and grinning like a fool to myself. Thank goodness noone is paying attention right now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've gone through relationships knowing, in one way or the other, that it wasn't going to last. I know it sounds sad or abnormal, but see, that's the thing. I've never been very normal when it comes to relationships.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And for the most part, I'm okay with being on my own, as clichey as it sounds. I could easily find someone to have fun with, and that'd be it. No drama, no fights, no real attachment. But at the end of the day, it means having noone who really cares about you for &lt;em&gt;you&lt;/em&gt; too. Not about how fun you are at parties, about how great you look on dates.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You know they liked you for the most superficial reasons. That within a second, they could turn their attention to someone who were more fun, who dressed better, who could offer them more things in return. And as twisted as it was, I used to like that. It was almost..like a challenge. And I didn't have to feel bad moving on and turning my attention to someone else because I knew they'd be okay with it too. That's the whole arrangement.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I hope one of you would relate and be like, "yeah, I used to be like that at one point too, I understand what she means." Because otherwise, I would feel..even more..weird. Alone. Abnormal.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I guess the turning point kinda happened a few months ago. I remembered going on a date with someone but even when we made plans to meet that night, my heart wasn't in it. He was nice and kind and he treated me well, but suddenly I thought to myself, "what are you doing?" Throughout the night, I kept asking myself that and even though we have gone out on a few dates, somehow I knew that it was the last time that I was gonna see him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Of course to this day he never really knew what happened and why I suddenly stopped replying to his messages. Guess something snapped that night and I realized, I was thinking about someone else and unless it was him who looked at me across the table, it would never go anywhere with anyone else.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That's when I stopped. I stopped all the playing around and started to be okay, to be &lt;em&gt;really&lt;/em&gt; okay, being by myself. To stay at home on weekends, to work hard in my job, to focus my energy on being healthier, better version of me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, I saw and hung out with my friends more, finding happiness in the simplest things. Took comfort in family and friendship and for a good part, I was really happy and undisturbed with the fact that yeah, I was probably the only single person left among my good friends.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm really glad I've taken my time. To hopefully grow up and be the best that I can be. Because who knew, a few months down the road, that someone would not just be sitting across the table; he's next to me and I am the happiest I've ever been.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And for the first time, I don't even have a tinge of hesitation when I said this. Not once throughout the time I started liking you, that I felt that this isn't going to last.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3060900281666557403-481875184631402378?l=xteena21.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://xteena21.blogspot.com/feeds/481875184631402378/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3060900281666557403&amp;postID=481875184631402378' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3060900281666557403/posts/default/481875184631402378'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3060900281666557403/posts/default/481875184631402378'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://xteena21.blogspot.com/2011/06/real.html' title='Real.'/><author><name>t e e n a</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12522403060096402233</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hZTrdTdZ6xk/TCDSBu5yD4I/AAAAAAAABUI/khqkaqHXHIo/S220/31965_406589962528_517712528_4269979_2824041_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3060900281666557403.post-6805516745386477818</id><published>2011-06-14T15:56:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2011-06-14T15:57:57.465+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='updates and the usual'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='randomness'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='funny'/><title type='text'>Mickey Mouse Situation</title><content type='html'>My office had an uninvited visitor yesterday. It started with my colleague exclaiming, "Christina! There's a rat here somewhere!" first thing in the morning when my brain was still grogilly switching between "shit, it's Monday again" and "shit, it's Monday again". It means, no, I wasn't in any way prepared to face a mouse-rat-situation.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Let's just say that the whole day I was on edge. We couldn't find it behind the boxes, which means, it could be anywhere, including underneath my desk! It didn't help that my colleagues sensed my unrealistic (but very real) fear and they started making jerk sudden movement everytime they passed my desk for the sole purpose of scaring me off.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At one point, one of them actually said that the rat might be hiding under my chair and bite my toes! But I like my toes! They help to keep me..balanced. And proportional. And pretty?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sometime in the afternoon, I actually saw the mouse run from one end to the next but it was gone before none of us could react. I doubt my scream helped anyone to catch the mouse but what was I supposed to do, right? One of us actually brought in a trap with some food inside and placed it at the corner.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But until the end of the day, the rat was nowhere to be seen, and I actually skipped lunch. Hm, not that one had anything to do with the other. I don't think so? Probably doesn't help that Greg started saying that rats loved food and that I should be extra careful placing my instant noodles!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Why are you so...." my colleague asked me with amused expression after he successfully managed to scare me off (again). (Really? That is soooo elementary school.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Jumpy?" I offered to finish his sentence.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ha. I've been asking myself the very same question for years. I don't know why I'm so jumpy aside from the fact that I am. How else am I gonna explain it?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why am I so scared of animals? Why am I scared of horror movies? Why am I scared of ghosts? Well, why don't you get me checked and maybe we can find out the answer.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This morning, when I arrived in the office, I was greeted by the announcement that the rat has been apprehended. It was safely tucked away in the trap. "Come see it!" my colleague said.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Er..how about..no!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Why! I should give the rat to you..Make you face your fears," he said, with unnecessary excitement that was, to me, very uncalled for.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3060900281666557403-6805516745386477818?l=xteena21.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://xteena21.blogspot.com/feeds/6805516745386477818/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3060900281666557403&amp;postID=6805516745386477818' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3060900281666557403/posts/default/6805516745386477818'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3060900281666557403/posts/default/6805516745386477818'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://xteena21.blogspot.com/2011/06/mickey-mouse-situation.html' title='Mickey Mouse Situation'/><author><name>t e e n a</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12522403060096402233</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hZTrdTdZ6xk/TCDSBu5yD4I/AAAAAAAABUI/khqkaqHXHIo/S220/31965_406589962528_517712528_4269979_2824041_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3060900281666557403.post-9050951631763432096</id><published>2011-06-12T22:29:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2011-06-12T22:30:33.517+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='beautiful'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='lyrics'/><title type='text'>They bring me to you.</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;You looked like the sun &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;I was the only one &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;who could stare until you were done shining on me &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;and as we drank our wine and let the world fade away &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;the sunrise tried to end it while we tried to stay. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;The rest of my life can't compare to this night &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;and only the heartaches have given me sight, &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;they bring me to you, &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;they bring me to you. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Moon pours through the ceiling tonight &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;embraces us tight &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;shows me we're right for each other &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;and as we lie here and let the world fade away &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;the sunrise tries to end it while we try to stay. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;The rest of my life can't compare to this night &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;and only the heartaches have given me sight, &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;they bring me to you. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;It's all about the first night and last, &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;some people say &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;well I love you so much more tonight, &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;more than yesterday. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;The rest of my life can't compare to this night &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;and only the heartaches have given me sight, &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;they bring me to you.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3060900281666557403-9050951631763432096?l=xteena21.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://xteena21.blogspot.com/feeds/9050951631763432096/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3060900281666557403&amp;postID=9050951631763432096' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3060900281666557403/posts/default/9050951631763432096'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3060900281666557403/posts/default/9050951631763432096'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://xteena21.blogspot.com/2011/06/they-bring-me-to-you.html' title='They bring me to you.'/><author><name>t e e n a</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12522403060096402233</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hZTrdTdZ6xk/TCDSBu5yD4I/AAAAAAAABUI/khqkaqHXHIo/S220/31965_406589962528_517712528_4269979_2824041_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3060900281666557403.post-2049490792766804384</id><published>2011-06-08T12:45:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2011-06-08T12:48:34.884+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='beautiful'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='quotes'/><title type='text'>conflicting.</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-s8B7NYN_kQ8/Te7-yBecAoI/AAAAAAAABlk/LmSZ7HOyboY/s1600/2011-04-01%2B22_37_01.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 300px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5615705920720601730" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-s8B7NYN_kQ8/Te7-yBecAoI/AAAAAAAABlk/LmSZ7HOyboY/s400/2011-04-01%2B22_37_01.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;If I had a world of my own, everything would be nonsense. Nothing would be what it is, because everything would be what it isn't. And contrary wise, what is, it wouldn't be. And what it wouldn't be, it would. You see?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3060900281666557403-2049490792766804384?l=xteena21.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://xteena21.blogspot.com/feeds/2049490792766804384/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3060900281666557403&amp;postID=2049490792766804384' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3060900281666557403/posts/default/2049490792766804384'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3060900281666557403/posts/default/2049490792766804384'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://xteena21.blogspot.com/2011/06/conflicting.html' title='conflicting.'/><author><name>t e e n a</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12522403060096402233</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hZTrdTdZ6xk/TCDSBu5yD4I/AAAAAAAABUI/khqkaqHXHIo/S220/31965_406589962528_517712528_4269979_2824041_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-s8B7NYN_kQ8/Te7-yBecAoI/AAAAAAAABlk/LmSZ7HOyboY/s72-c/2011-04-01%2B22_37_01.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3060900281666557403.post-6595380919654025638</id><published>2011-06-07T21:23:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2011-06-07T21:24:13.935+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='beautiful'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='quotes'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='television'/><title type='text'>- From 'Skins'</title><content type='html'>“I’ve loved you from the first time I saw you. I think I was twelve. It took me three years to pluck up the courage to speak to you. And I was so scared of the way I felt, you know, loving a girl, that I learned how to become a sarcastic bitch just to make it feel normal. I screwed guys, to make it go away, but it didn’t work. When we got together it scared the shit out of me because, you were the one person who could ruin my life. I pushed you away and made you think things were your fault but, really I was just terrified of pain. I screwed that girl Sophia to kind of spite you for having that hold on me. And I’m a total fucking coward because, I got these… these tickets to Goa for us three months ago. But I, I couldn’t stand… I didn’t want to be a slave to the way I feel about you. Can you understand? You were trying to punish me back and it’s horrible. It’s so horrible because, really, I’d die for you. I love you. I love you so much it is killing me.”&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3060900281666557403-6595380919654025638?l=xteena21.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://xteena21.blogspot.com/feeds/6595380919654025638/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3060900281666557403&amp;postID=6595380919654025638' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3060900281666557403/posts/default/6595380919654025638'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3060900281666557403/posts/default/6595380919654025638'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://xteena21.blogspot.com/2011/06/from-skins.html' title='- From &apos;Skins&apos;'/><author><name>t e e n a</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12522403060096402233</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hZTrdTdZ6xk/TCDSBu5yD4I/AAAAAAAABUI/khqkaqHXHIo/S220/31965_406589962528_517712528_4269979_2824041_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3060900281666557403.post-8540568388803797033</id><published>2011-05-27T16:44:00.005+08:00</published><updated>2011-06-05T13:07:58.833+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='pictures'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='hong kong'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='holiday'/><title type='text'>Unforgettable Hong Kong!</title><content type='html'>So guess who just came back from a weekend in Hong Kong last week? Me! Me! Me! Pick me!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Okay, that was lame. Sorry. Hey, it's been ages since I wrote here and it's been equally long that I haven't been entertaining myself with my silly jokes. And I'm gonna post so many photos here, you better be really, really afraid.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So anyway, in a nutshell, it was a really fun and memorable trip. And who knew being a lightbulb could be this great? Yes, you heard that right. I went with my couple friends. But they are both equally fun, adventurous people to be around and at the end of the day, I was sorta glad it turned out that way because otherwise, I figured my girl friend and I would have spent so much time being confused and lost like two blind mice. At least now we were three blind mice and that sounded much more comforting, don't you think?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think we did exactly what we set out to do, and went to the places that we wanted to go, so really, it was great. It was refreshing being in a different city (although, Hong Kong felt so much like Singapore at times), but it was still different and unfamiliar I cherished every minute of it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We went sightseeing from morning 'til night, until our legs felt like they were ready to drop any second. The highlight of the trip was probably The Peak for me, but I definitely liked Macau for different reasons too. We went to Macau on our second day when our spirit was at the all-time high! Checking out The Venetian Hotel with their romantic man-made canals was great too! At The Peak, we visited Madam Tussauds and took gazillions of photos in the Viewing Terrace at the top.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One thing I gotta comment on was the weather, though. It was drizzling throughout the time we were there, and it was kind of a bummer. 'Cos everywhere roads were slippery and damp, and we had to bring umbrella everywhere. Plus, the air got so hazy and foggy that at some point, we couldn't really see anything when we were on top of The Peak. But it got better as the day went on and despite all that, we still had a good time and the photos didn't turn out so bad, don't you think?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Alright, then, food! Okay, so I was told by many friends here before I left, that I had to try this, and that, this dimsum in this street, that dessert in that place, etc etc. But once we were there, it was really hard to spot these places, especially with our tight schedule! So we sort of just went to the major places that we wanted to go, and grabbed lunch and dinner at the area. We picked the most local and chinese place we could find, and just..went with it. The eateries there were all so small though. Seats were packed and all the menus were written in Chinese I could only stare at it blankly. We survived, though. The power of body language.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Next on, shopping. Same goes with that. I've heard warnings of people going crazy while shopping in Hong Kong that I have especially set aside some money to go wild. But we really didn't have time for that either! We went to Ladies' Market over at Mong Kok but didn't really see anything special. We bought the standard 'I Love HK' T-Shirt that we wore the next day but that's it. Oh, and a pair of slippers.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That about summed up our adventure, and I really hope I could do these little trips over the weekend again more often!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-L0sbxoX-DWM/TesMD0CHN1I/AAAAAAAABks/jBB5G9ODnWk/s1600/IMG_2695.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-L0sbxoX-DWM/TesMD0CHN1I/AAAAAAAABks/jBB5G9ODnWk/s400/IMG_2695.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5614594620094101330" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-3e-_0RzqCcI/TesMEEYB-ZI/AAAAAAAABk0/Bf6TlaEcQ1c/s1600/IMG_2796.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-3e-_0RzqCcI/TesMEEYB-ZI/AAAAAAAABk0/Bf6TlaEcQ1c/s400/IMG_2796.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5614594624480999826" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-AsrwbW0efs0/TesNr_9lQQI/AAAAAAAABlE/Vf6dL8yGkxM/s1600/IMG_2834.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-AsrwbW0efs0/TesNr_9lQQI/AAAAAAAABlE/Vf6dL8yGkxM/s400/IMG_2834.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5614596410002718978" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-1kTHJEmUyhs/TesNsNmRA1I/AAAAAAAABlM/ZF8vrWu17mE/s1600/IMG_2867.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-1kTHJEmUyhs/TesNsNmRA1I/AAAAAAAABlM/ZF8vrWu17mE/s400/IMG_2867.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5614596413663019858" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-SlEtFEwLDck/TesNs18W6oI/AAAAAAAABlU/7kaMGBGpjbo/s1600/IMG_2973.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-SlEtFEwLDck/TesNs18W6oI/AAAAAAAABlU/7kaMGBGpjbo/s400/IMG_2973.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5614596424493099650" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Ak5qHfkUCvY/TesNtNd71pI/AAAAAAAABlc/5r2kfg4MP7U/s1600/IMG_3135.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Ak5qHfkUCvY/TesNtNd71pI/AAAAAAAABlc/5r2kfg4MP7U/s400/IMG_3135.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5614596430807946898" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-lDygKNXkNeY/TesNrvfJA1I/AAAAAAAABk8/k59Bgbrl10g/s1600/IMG_3149.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-lDygKNXkNeY/TesNrvfJA1I/AAAAAAAABk8/k59Bgbrl10g/s400/IMG_3149.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5614596405580071762" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3060900281666557403-8540568388803797033?l=xteena21.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://xteena21.blogspot.com/feeds/8540568388803797033/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3060900281666557403&amp;postID=8540568388803797033' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3060900281666557403/posts/default/8540568388803797033'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3060900281666557403/posts/default/8540568388803797033'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://xteena21.blogspot.com/2011/05/unforgettable-hong-kong.html' title='Unforgettable Hong Kong!'/><author><name>t e e n a</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12522403060096402233</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hZTrdTdZ6xk/TCDSBu5yD4I/AAAAAAAABUI/khqkaqHXHIo/S220/31965_406589962528_517712528_4269979_2824041_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-L0sbxoX-DWM/TesMD0CHN1I/AAAAAAAABks/jBB5G9ODnWk/s72-c/IMG_2695.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3060900281666557403.post-5589833134451353105</id><published>2011-05-26T12:03:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2011-05-26T12:04:53.530+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='happiness'/><title type='text'>For the better.</title><content type='html'>I was constantly on the lookout. Even when I was with someone, somehow I managed to find excuses to break away because I wasn't comfortable being in one place for a long time. I blamed it on my short-attention-span, but in the end it all boiled down to my own immaturity.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't know how it started to change. Maybe when I got to know you, and realized that you're different. Different how? I don't know. I can't really pinpoint it. You're not just a person, see. You're a &lt;em&gt;whole&lt;/em&gt; kind of person. And without even trying, you keep me on my toes. In your own undramatic and ordinary way, you kicked the side of my head and woke me up from this faraway dreamland I was in.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And I tried to fight it at first. Because it was scary and unfamiliar. I convinced myself that nothing has really changed, and that I still had all the freedom in the world to do what the old me used to do. Play around, not take things seriously, walk away whenever my feet got cold or when things did not shake me to the core anymore.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But after a while, I was tired. Because it was tiring trying to fight it. It was tiring trying to pretend that I haven't changed. That you didn't matter.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And besides, why did I need to fight it? As out of this world this may have seemed, maybe it was time for me to grow up. And it was like, everything started to fall into place and I just let myself enjoy the ride. Although it was unpredictable, frustrating and confusing, the excitement and anticipation were so great that I kept telling myself to be patient.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yes, patience. I used to jump into things too quickly, and see, without knowing it, you have taught me the lesson of being patient too. That good things come to those who wait.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And now, I couldn't hope for anything better. And I have you to thank, for just being &lt;em&gt;you&lt;/em&gt;, the unique and serious and funny and special you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Even my sister said, "Sis, this is the most normal thing I've seen you do..since like, ever."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3060900281666557403-5589833134451353105?l=xteena21.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://xteena21.blogspot.com/feeds/5589833134451353105/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3060900281666557403&amp;postID=5589833134451353105' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3060900281666557403/posts/default/5589833134451353105'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3060900281666557403/posts/default/5589833134451353105'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://xteena21.blogspot.com/2011/05/for-better.html' title='For the better.'/><author><name>t e e n a</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12522403060096402233</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hZTrdTdZ6xk/TCDSBu5yD4I/AAAAAAAABUI/khqkaqHXHIo/S220/31965_406589962528_517712528_4269979_2824041_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3060900281666557403.post-1063254145111962527</id><published>2011-05-07T12:54:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2011-05-07T12:54:42.176+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='updates and the usual'/><title type='text'>In a flash!</title><content type='html'>Is it an ironic coincidence that my 1 year in my company falls on 24 June, which is also the first day of my 10.5 leave?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Haha. First things first! I'm really happy I managed to stay on for almost a year now, and it's probably the longest I've ever committed to anything! Time really flies when you think about it. I can recall my first day like it was just yesterday. The outfits I wore, how I felt on the day, what I did and how the day began and ended.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There were moments of doubts and stress during the first few days especially, since everything was so new. But I learnt that, once you make a decision, stick by it. And don't ever look back. Just don't.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, next thing is, yes! I'm finally doing the big vacation thing this June to Italy! You know what, even though we started out with just a big gut and a few presses to book the tickets without much plans yet, we're all set! It's so exciting, aye!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And speaking of vacation, I'll be doing a pre-vacation thing to Hong Kong next weekend!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Will write more tonight I hope! I miss updating this blog with my neverending rants!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3060900281666557403-1063254145111962527?l=xteena21.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://xteena21.blogspot.com/feeds/1063254145111962527/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3060900281666557403&amp;postID=1063254145111962527' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3060900281666557403/posts/default/1063254145111962527'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3060900281666557403/posts/default/1063254145111962527'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://xteena21.blogspot.com/2011/05/in-flash.html' title='In a flash!'/><author><name>t e e n a</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12522403060096402233</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hZTrdTdZ6xk/TCDSBu5yD4I/AAAAAAAABUI/khqkaqHXHIo/S220/31965_406589962528_517712528_4269979_2824041_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3060900281666557403.post-472904863762723957</id><published>2011-04-28T20:38:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2011-04-28T20:44:08.999+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='beautiful'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='quotes'/><title type='text'>Faith.</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-1Q17dcjNehg/TblgZ8nnvrI/AAAAAAAABkY/ODKGzjTxt_c/s1600/tumblr_las2xpu6Ib1qzb7gjo1_500.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-1Q17dcjNehg/TblgZ8nnvrI/AAAAAAAABkY/ODKGzjTxt_c/s400/tumblr_las2xpu6Ib1qzb7gjo1_500.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5600613610497228466" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:x-large;"&gt;What's meant to be will always find a way.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3060900281666557403-472904863762723957?l=xteena21.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://xteena21.blogspot.com/feeds/472904863762723957/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3060900281666557403&amp;postID=472904863762723957' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3060900281666557403/posts/default/472904863762723957'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3060900281666557403/posts/default/472904863762723957'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://xteena21.blogspot.com/2011/04/faith.html' title='Faith.'/><author><name>t e e n a</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12522403060096402233</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hZTrdTdZ6xk/TCDSBu5yD4I/AAAAAAAABUI/khqkaqHXHIo/S220/31965_406589962528_517712528_4269979_2824041_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-1Q17dcjNehg/TblgZ8nnvrI/AAAAAAAABkY/ODKGzjTxt_c/s72-c/tumblr_las2xpu6Ib1qzb7gjo1_500.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3060900281666557403.post-7137321723498972395</id><published>2011-04-24T19:01:00.008+08:00</published><updated>2011-04-24T19:28:49.858+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='singapore'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='the script'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='music'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='concert'/><title type='text'>The Script!</title><content type='html'>Oh hello there! I have come back from the cave and I miss you all! (although, since I’m the only one who write and read this anyway, I might as well say that I miss myself, which is pretty self-centred and shameless.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;April is surely an exciting month because I never thought I would go and see The Script Live in concert!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I’ve loved The Script since ‘The Man Who Can’t Be Moved’, which seemed like a long time ago! The band has never made it exceptionally big here like, say, Jason Mraz (whom I also have loved since ‘You and I Both’. But he just made it big since ‘I’m Yours’, and now I have that protective feeling whenever people say they’re big fans of him and all I want to say is “No! I like him first! I’m his bigger fan!”)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can’t think of a better band to see live though. I have a lot of bands and singers that I liked, and I’m sure plenty of them have had concerts in Singapore in the past, but I wonder why I never truly bothered to watch. When I heard on the radio one morning in early March that The Script is coming for one night concert here, I immediately bought the ticket, just like that, on the same day as soon as I reached office!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now, that surely means something, right? The fact that I bought it almost two months in advance made the anticipation much more exciting and all the more when I found out a week before the concert that my dear friend was going too!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The D-Day itself couldn’t be more dramatic as my lil sister and I made our way to Fort Canning about 2 hours earlier. We knew it’s a standing concert so of course we didn’t want to be stuck right in the very end of the line. We’re very aware of our limitations when it comes to height, and we’re not planning to stand behind a tall person all throughout the concert!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It started drizzling when we reached and there was already a long line forming. We took our queue and stood there waiting for 2 hours under the rain which just got even heavier as time passed by and the organizer had to give away ponchos.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The demographic of the crowds was pretty obvious. A lot of Caucasians and Malay teenagers screaming and yelling even long before the concert began. At that time when I was squeezed and pushed around by obnoxious, loud Caucasians, I thought, “I never know Caucasians could be THIS annoying!” And maybe I’m just generalizing here, but bear with me, okay? They were really loud and inconsiderate, constantly cutting people’s lines and kept moving around, poking and nudging me every two seconds, never realizing that they were pushing people and pissing us off.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A big person in front of me kept pulling something from her bag, putting it back in, moving around and looking behind, bobbing her head non-stop and consider that we were in such close proximity to each other that even a bob of her head sent her ponytail flying right in my face every time and her pulling things from her bag nudged all parts of my body and my goodness, it was torture.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It must have been a good hour before the concert even started; all of us standing like sardines while the DJ was trying to fill in some time by playing current songs.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At first we were excitedly singing along to Rihanna’s ‘What’s My Name’ and Jessie J’s ‘Price Tag’, but after a while, we just wanted The Script to come up on stage!&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And once that happened. Wow. That’s all I can say. It was amazing. Amazing, amazing, amazing. The whole concert, it boils down as one of the most memorable experiences I will never, ever forget!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Their energy was infectious and they sang all the songs we wanted them to sing. They started with tunes like ‘If You Come Back’, ‘Science and Faith’, ‘If You See Kay’, and more, before they finished the show with ‘For The First Time’ and ‘Break Even’!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The whole thing was a blur, we were screaming and singing along at the top of our lungs until we no longer felt the rain and the humidity around us.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It truly was amazing! And I realize I probably use the word ‘amazing’ too much here, but there’s no other word to describe the experience.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If I loved The Script before, I am even more obsessed with them now! I kept listening to their songs all over again, reading their interviews about the meanings of each song, watching their live performances on YouTube, oh man, I think I’m borderline stalking ‘em now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-kVN7E53mUhQ/TbQEYcEC43I/AAAAAAAABkA/pzR_7qCRA9Y/s1600/IMG_2568.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-kVN7E53mUhQ/TbQEYcEC43I/AAAAAAAABkA/pzR_7qCRA9Y/s400/IMG_2568.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5599105054624899954" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-guciwYX2KUs/TbQEC_TcvQI/AAAAAAAABj4/WqON50zEb6s/s1600/IMG_2554.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-guciwYX2KUs/TbQEC_TcvQI/AAAAAAAABj4/WqON50zEb6s/s400/IMG_2554.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5599104686127627522" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Bj2QdEdI0xI/TbQDumcCNoI/AAAAAAAABjw/XU6et-B4GKc/s1600/IMG_2550a.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 264px; height: 400px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Bj2QdEdI0xI/TbQDumcCNoI/AAAAAAAABjw/XU6et-B4GKc/s400/IMG_2550a.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5599104335855367810" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Okay I realize I'm really crappy at taking pictures, because all I have is a lousy phone camera and a semi-decent digital camera that wouldn't zoom as close as I hoped for. But we really were standing pretty close to the stage! I feel like I could almost touch Danny, who is frikkin gorgeous, by the way!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So let me just show you the pictures they took themselves during the concert which they posted on Twitter!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-gqkUsQqX4c4/TbQFa-_3GMI/AAAAAAAABkI/rV-E0Zcpev8/s1600/275469751.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 299px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-gqkUsQqX4c4/TbQFa-_3GMI/AAAAAAAABkI/rV-E0Zcpev8/s400/275469751.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5599106197873957058" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;BOOM! Isn't that amazing!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Because I was standing quite in the front, I never knew how big the place really was, and how many people actually filled in the area, and only when I saw this picture, I knew what the band was seeing: a truly massive crowds of fans! It was just amazing!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ah, now I feel like stalking and watching their videos again! So before I finish this post, let me post another picture of them that they took. Had nothing to do with the concert but man, isn't Danny gorgeous!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-ih3jwS_TWJo/TbQGV6-ul9I/AAAAAAAABkQ/1KGXZZ5rUmw/s1600/276020846.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 299px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-ih3jwS_TWJo/TbQGV6-ul9I/AAAAAAAABkQ/1KGXZZ5rUmw/s400/276020846.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5599107210407745490" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;♥ ♥&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3060900281666557403-7137321723498972395?l=xteena21.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://xteena21.blogspot.com/feeds/7137321723498972395/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3060900281666557403&amp;postID=7137321723498972395' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3060900281666557403/posts/default/7137321723498972395'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3060900281666557403/posts/default/7137321723498972395'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://xteena21.blogspot.com/2011/04/script.html' title='The Script!'/><author><name>t e e n a</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12522403060096402233</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hZTrdTdZ6xk/TCDSBu5yD4I/AAAAAAAABUI/khqkaqHXHIo/S220/31965_406589962528_517712528_4269979_2824041_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-kVN7E53mUhQ/TbQEYcEC43I/AAAAAAAABkA/pzR_7qCRA9Y/s72-c/IMG_2568.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3060900281666557403.post-2505582636646953602</id><published>2011-04-24T18:41:00.007+08:00</published><updated>2011-04-24T18:46:54.971+08:00</updated><title type='text'>In Pictures</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-hWDiEEio39w/TbP-_6bRn4I/AAAAAAAABjo/qxHgbZ-X7n4/s1600/IMG_2479.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-hWDiEEio39w/TbP-_6bRn4I/AAAAAAAABjo/qxHgbZ-X7n4/s400/IMG_2479.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5599099135720529794" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-wnwVnqWqH7w/TbP-zdeYwSI/AAAAAAAABjg/tshRwwMlNAY/s1600/190347_10150115227803918_537033917_6437474_3286496_n.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 329px; height: 400px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-wnwVnqWqH7w/TbP-zdeYwSI/AAAAAAAABjg/tshRwwMlNAY/s400/190347_10150115227803918_537033917_6437474_3286496_n.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5599098921790521634" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-BO48JZyf9Pk/TbP-mZgiQoI/AAAAAAAABjY/BxQ4Ssw7IPE/s1600/221839_10150177121117529_517712528_7103986_2969839_n.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-BO48JZyf9Pk/TbP-mZgiQoI/AAAAAAAABjY/BxQ4Ssw7IPE/s400/221839_10150177121117529_517712528_7103986_2969839_n.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5599098697387491970" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-j3mAoZ4nofY/TbP-eWiXsDI/AAAAAAAABjQ/rKWrLcfGJXQ/s1600/216071_10150223849961413_538856412_9038297_5412778_n.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 299px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-j3mAoZ4nofY/TbP-eWiXsDI/AAAAAAAABjQ/rKWrLcfGJXQ/s400/216071_10150223849961413_538856412_9038297_5412778_n.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5599098559150927922" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:x-large;"&gt;Truly great friends are hard to find, difficult to leave, and impossible to forget.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3060900281666557403-2505582636646953602?l=xteena21.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://xteena21.blogspot.com/feeds/2505582636646953602/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3060900281666557403&amp;postID=2505582636646953602' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3060900281666557403/posts/default/2505582636646953602'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3060900281666557403/posts/default/2505582636646953602'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://xteena21.blogspot.com/2011/04/in-pictures.html' title='In Pictures'/><author><name>t e e n a</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12522403060096402233</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hZTrdTdZ6xk/TCDSBu5yD4I/AAAAAAAABUI/khqkaqHXHIo/S220/31965_406589962528_517712528_4269979_2824041_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-hWDiEEio39w/TbP-_6bRn4I/AAAAAAAABjo/qxHgbZ-X7n4/s72-c/IMG_2479.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3060900281666557403.post-6090139485901222263</id><published>2011-04-14T22:19:00.004+08:00</published><updated>2011-04-14T22:31:07.990+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='beautiful'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='quotes'/><title type='text'>Apart.</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-nDKkOTLyVrU/TacEPFzhmlI/AAAAAAAABjI/lrhBpYTvyBw/s1600/tumblr_lj3ru7PiyC1qdoid8o1_500.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 303px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-nDKkOTLyVrU/TacEPFzhmlI/AAAAAAAABjI/lrhBpYTvyBw/s400/tumblr_lj3ru7PiyC1qdoid8o1_500.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5595445719333968466" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Sometimes we waste too much time to think about someone who doesn't even think about us for a second.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;People change. Feelings change. It doesn't mean that the love once shared wasn't true and real. It simply just means that sometimes when people grow, they grow apart.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3060900281666557403-6090139485901222263?l=xteena21.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://xteena21.blogspot.com/feeds/6090139485901222263/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3060900281666557403&amp;postID=6090139485901222263' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3060900281666557403/posts/default/6090139485901222263'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3060900281666557403/posts/default/6090139485901222263'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://xteena21.blogspot.com/2011/04/apart.html' title='Apart.'/><author><name>t e e n a</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12522403060096402233</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hZTrdTdZ6xk/TCDSBu5yD4I/AAAAAAAABUI/khqkaqHXHIo/S220/31965_406589962528_517712528_4269979_2824041_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-nDKkOTLyVrU/TacEPFzhmlI/AAAAAAAABjI/lrhBpYTvyBw/s72-c/tumblr_lj3ru7PiyC1qdoid8o1_500.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3060900281666557403.post-7262747768043229400</id><published>2011-04-13T17:52:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2011-04-13T17:54:09.091+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='beautiful'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='quotes'/><title type='text'>The Notebook.</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-KdhojyP0ME0/TaVyhLsyvnI/AAAAAAAABiw/MlHm7kZbTSc/s1600/tumblr_lg91vw736o1qzd6kko1_500.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 267px; height: 400px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-KdhojyP0ME0/TaVyhLsyvnI/AAAAAAAABiw/MlHm7kZbTSc/s400/tumblr_lg91vw736o1qzd6kko1_500.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5595004026479623794" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:x-large;"&gt;In times of grief and sorrow I will hold you and rock you, and take your grief and make it my own.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When you cry, I cry, and when you hurt, I hurt. And together we will try to hold back the floods of tears and despair and make it through thee potholed streets of life.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3060900281666557403-7262747768043229400?l=xteena21.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://xteena21.blogspot.com/feeds/7262747768043229400/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3060900281666557403&amp;postID=7262747768043229400' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3060900281666557403/posts/default/7262747768043229400'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3060900281666557403/posts/default/7262747768043229400'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://xteena21.blogspot.com/2011/04/notebook.html' title='The Notebook.'/><author><name>t e e n a</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12522403060096402233</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hZTrdTdZ6xk/TCDSBu5yD4I/AAAAAAAABUI/khqkaqHXHIo/S220/31965_406589962528_517712528_4269979_2824041_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-KdhojyP0ME0/TaVyhLsyvnI/AAAAAAAABiw/MlHm7kZbTSc/s72-c/tumblr_lg91vw736o1qzd6kko1_500.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3060900281666557403.post-7795660395138262338</id><published>2011-03-19T13:10:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2011-04-13T17:56:34.891+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='beautiful'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='lyrics'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='quotes'/><title type='text'>science and faith</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:x-large;"&gt;you won't find faith or hope down the telescope. you won't find heart and soul in the stars. you can break everything, down to chemicals. but you can't explain a love like ours.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3060900281666557403-7795660395138262338?l=xteena21.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://xteena21.blogspot.com/feeds/7795660395138262338/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3060900281666557403&amp;postID=7795660395138262338' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3060900281666557403/posts/default/7795660395138262338'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3060900281666557403/posts/default/7795660395138262338'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://xteena21.blogspot.com/2011/03/science-and-faith.html' title='science and faith'/><author><name>t e e n a</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12522403060096402233</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hZTrdTdZ6xk/TCDSBu5yD4I/AAAAAAAABUI/khqkaqHXHIo/S220/31965_406589962528_517712528_4269979_2824041_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3060900281666557403.post-6261684746297630413</id><published>2011-03-04T09:44:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2011-03-04T09:45:02.440+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='rant'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='randomness'/><title type='text'>A little privacy, please.</title><content type='html'>There was a system which should be simple enough to understand. Especially since everyone is an adult. The thing with a unisex toilet means, that one should wait for his/her turn if someone else is inside. Nothing more awkward than exchanging smile or small talks in between cubicles. Imagine 'bumping' into the opposite sex while you're washing your hand after finishing up a certain nasty business.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was not hard since there were three slippers provided, two pairs for the gents, and one for the ladies. One, two, three. It does not require an advanced deductive or mathematical skill, even. So one might wonder, how could there be a flaw in such a seemingly elementary concept?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Like one day, she was wearing her slippers inside the loo. As she was still washing her hands, a careless gent stormed in to the 'establishment'. Startled but unapologetic, he exclaimed, "What are you doing?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Oh," she replied, "you know, just lounging here... Chilling, enjoying the glorious toilet scent and its breathtaking view."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She should have said that, really. But in fact, it was only in her head. What was she doing inside a toilet? Dear god, what could it possibly be? The possibilities are endless!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;With an irritated grunt, she said nothing and slipped outside.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Another day, same starting story. She was washing her hands when she heard noises outside, and a gent pushed open the toilet door. The second he saw her, he made a loud noise which sounded like "sorry!", his whole body trembling and he was muttering sorry over and over again while trying to get out immediately. His dramatic reaction could resemble an act of a guilty kid who has just been caught stealing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It made her feel so bad! Why would she feel bad?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, the only thing he was stealing was some privacy! She made her way out and said, "it's okay, go ahead, I'm done" to the poor awkward dude who was still trembling in horror.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No! She doesn't want to freak some dude out or blurt out sarcastic remarks to the insensitive bloke! What she wants is just a little privacy!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3060900281666557403-6261684746297630413?l=xteena21.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://xteena21.blogspot.com/feeds/6261684746297630413/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3060900281666557403&amp;postID=6261684746297630413' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3060900281666557403/posts/default/6261684746297630413'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3060900281666557403/posts/default/6261684746297630413'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://xteena21.blogspot.com/2011/03/little-privacy-please.html' title='A little privacy, please.'/><author><name>t e e n a</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12522403060096402233</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hZTrdTdZ6xk/TCDSBu5yD4I/AAAAAAAABUI/khqkaqHXHIo/S220/31965_406589962528_517712528_4269979_2824041_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3060900281666557403.post-9099615666679540014</id><published>2011-02-28T20:43:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2011-02-28T20:48:36.634+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='rant'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='randomness'/><title type='text'>Domestic.</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-uuVs9_VT66s/TWuYsf65pYI/AAAAAAAABio/TGUBv-kg3Qs/s1600/FxCam_1298801642131.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-uuVs9_VT66s/TWuYsf65pYI/AAAAAAAABio/TGUBv-kg3Qs/s400/FxCam_1298801642131.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5578720453678704002" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;I was suddenly possessed by the spirit of Martha Stewart over the weekend. Yeah, scary, huh? I felt so domestic to the point that I decided to cook my sisters and cousin a hearty dinner.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They complained and objected the idea, but I insisted. I might have even threatened them a little. But I told you, I was possessed. Even on Saturday as we went grocery shopping, I could not contain my excitement. Running wildly from aisle to aisle, I picked up pasta and spaghetti sauce and tom yum soup paste and mushrooms and carrots and potatoes as if my life depended on it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, everyone was pretty busy on Sunday so I offered to make baked pasta for dinner. It wasn’t rocket science, really. I was a little ashamed that I couldn’t impress you more by saying I made, um, risotto with scallops or something fancier like that. But perhaps you would be slightly impressed too by ‘baked pasta’, right until I told you how simple and easy the process actually was. A 5-year old kid could make that too. And then, your impressed-face would disappear as fast as my money after payday.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All I did was washing, chopping, boiling, mixing, adding sauce and salt and tada! Putting it in the oven and voila!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hey, don’t look at me that way. Actually I enjoy cooking once in a while if there’s an occasion and an audience (even though I would have to force them into eating it.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The problem is that I’m a lazy bum who would rather sleep and wake up to a well-prepared, all-ready, take-away food than cooking it from scratch.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, nobody’s perfect.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(Are you holding back the urge to throw up? Cos I kinda am.)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3060900281666557403-9099615666679540014?l=xteena21.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://xteena21.blogspot.com/feeds/9099615666679540014/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3060900281666557403&amp;postID=9099615666679540014' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3060900281666557403/posts/default/9099615666679540014'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3060900281666557403/posts/default/9099615666679540014'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://xteena21.blogspot.com/2011/02/domestic.html' title='Domestic.'/><author><name>t e e n a</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12522403060096402233</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hZTrdTdZ6xk/TCDSBu5yD4I/AAAAAAAABUI/khqkaqHXHIo/S220/31965_406589962528_517712528_4269979_2824041_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-uuVs9_VT66s/TWuYsf65pYI/AAAAAAAABio/TGUBv-kg3Qs/s72-c/FxCam_1298801642131.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3060900281666557403.post-677513403919328020</id><published>2011-02-27T22:58:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2011-02-28T20:43:34.419+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Tumblr.</title><content type='html'>Tumblr, tumblr, tumblr.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Join me &lt;a href="http://xteena21.tumblr.com/"&gt;here&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It will be a lot easier to update pictures and short posts over there, so I'm gonna try updating it more often since I don't have much time to blog properly these days.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway. Thanks for sticking by and I'll see you soon!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3060900281666557403-677513403919328020?l=xteena21.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://xteena21.blogspot.com/feeds/677513403919328020/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3060900281666557403&amp;postID=677513403919328020' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3060900281666557403/posts/default/677513403919328020'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3060900281666557403/posts/default/677513403919328020'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://xteena21.blogspot.com/2011/02/tumblr.html' title='Tumblr.'/><author><name>t e e n a</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12522403060096402233</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hZTrdTdZ6xk/TCDSBu5yD4I/AAAAAAAABUI/khqkaqHXHIo/S220/31965_406589962528_517712528_4269979_2824041_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3060900281666557403.post-3659193773458229977</id><published>2011-02-27T16:51:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2011-02-27T17:01:21.785+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='pictures'/><title type='text'>The View.</title><content type='html'>From up here, everything seems perfect.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-d8xQhVCxNpE/TWoR4zqiQlI/AAAAAAAABig/ms818ZZgF60/s1600/IMG_2569.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 267px; height: 400px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-d8xQhVCxNpE/TWoR4zqiQlI/AAAAAAAABig/ms818ZZgF60/s400/IMG_2569.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5578290756090741330" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-dT-jX0gnjuA/TWoRTMFeseI/AAAAAAAABiY/FBRJuISlppM/s1600/IMG_2574.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-dT-jX0gnjuA/TWoRTMFeseI/AAAAAAAABiY/FBRJuISlppM/s400/IMG_2574.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5578290109811175906" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-qC1tYISS0FI/TWoRMXginOI/AAAAAAAABiQ/4TKSYhrHTrs/s1600/IMG_2571.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-qC1tYISS0FI/TWoRMXginOI/AAAAAAAABiQ/4TKSYhrHTrs/s400/IMG_2571.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5578289992618384610" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Come to think of it, Singapore's not so bad at all.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3060900281666557403-3659193773458229977?l=xteena21.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://xteena21.blogspot.com/feeds/3659193773458229977/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3060900281666557403&amp;postID=3659193773458229977' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3060900281666557403/posts/default/3659193773458229977'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3060900281666557403/posts/default/3659193773458229977'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://xteena21.blogspot.com/2011/02/view.html' title='The View.'/><author><name>t e e n a</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12522403060096402233</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hZTrdTdZ6xk/TCDSBu5yD4I/AAAAAAAABUI/khqkaqHXHIo/S220/31965_406589962528_517712528_4269979_2824041_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-d8xQhVCxNpE/TWoR4zqiQlI/AAAAAAAABig/ms818ZZgF60/s72-c/IMG_2569.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3060900281666557403.post-1208956797433270751</id><published>2011-02-24T17:14:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2011-02-24T17:15:07.699+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='rant'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='this is me being sentimentil'/><title type='text'>Back.</title><content type='html'>This is why I can never have a baby. I have a short attention span. I can't exactly neglect and abandon a baby like I do to my blog and my 101 other hobbies, can I?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm sorry in advance that I haven't been writing at all for the past few weeks. Ever since I've been back from my trip back home, I've been a basket case, a PMS kid in horrible mood swings and uncontrollable temper tantrums.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In short, I've been homesick and thus, in no condition to be writing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Instead, I came back to work in full speed, taking no craps from annoying customers, and did a lot of writings for the company's magazine. I detached myself from personal life for a while as a way to deny reality and the fact that I was feeling so unmotivated and slightly lethargic.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's been almost three weeks and I'm feeling a little better. But I wonder, why is it that nothing really excites me anymore these days?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I long for the days when I look forward to the next day, knowing I would do something useful. Or, when I spend an hour or two getting ready for a date because I'm so excited.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Is it a matter of the job which doesn't give me the mental stimulation, or is it me, who simply is going through a dry phase? I don't know, maybe a little of both.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As if to compensate for the lack of fighting spirit, I'm throwing myself to work even deeper these days. I know, that doesn't make any sense, but it happens.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Come to think of it, I've been in a committed relationship with my job for 8 months now. Eight! I know it doesn't seem that long, but it is! If I were seeing a man, this would be the time when I started getting a rash.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But I guess that what being committed essentially is. So I'm going to tough it up, grow up, act like an adult and brace the storm.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3060900281666557403-1208956797433270751?l=xteena21.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://xteena21.blogspot.com/feeds/1208956797433270751/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3060900281666557403&amp;postID=1208956797433270751' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3060900281666557403/posts/default/1208956797433270751'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3060900281666557403/posts/default/1208956797433270751'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://xteena21.blogspot.com/2011/02/back.html' title='Back.'/><author><name>t e e n a</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12522403060096402233</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hZTrdTdZ6xk/TCDSBu5yD4I/AAAAAAAABUI/khqkaqHXHIo/S220/31965_406589962528_517712528_4269979_2824041_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3060900281666557403.post-403352271232897910</id><published>2011-01-26T17:32:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2011-01-26T17:33:31.374+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='this is me being sentimentil'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='randomness'/><title type='text'>Stop</title><content type='html'>I'm scared that I'm not good enough for you. I'm scared that you see my many imperfections. I'm scared that I'm not worth keeping.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You're afraid that I may look somewhere else. You're afraid your sense of humour is beginning to bore me. You're afraid I'm never going to let you in.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Can we just drop our worries and fear and stop thinking for a second? And who knows, we might have gotten somewhere.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3060900281666557403-403352271232897910?l=xteena21.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://xteena21.blogspot.com/feeds/403352271232897910/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3060900281666557403&amp;postID=403352271232897910' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3060900281666557403/posts/default/403352271232897910'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3060900281666557403/posts/default/403352271232897910'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://xteena21.blogspot.com/2011/01/stop.html' title='Stop'/><author><name>t e e n a</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12522403060096402233</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hZTrdTdZ6xk/TCDSBu5yD4I/AAAAAAAABUI/khqkaqHXHIo/S220/31965_406589962528_517712528_4269979_2824041_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3060900281666557403.post-3373356947020837750</id><published>2011-01-26T17:29:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2011-01-26T17:30:31.262+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='randomness'/><title type='text'>What I learn from my waitressing job.</title><content type='html'>Adopting a robotic smile&lt;br /&gt;Saying 'thank you' even when you were given rubbish&lt;br /&gt;Looking perky even though my outfits were drowning me. &lt;em&gt;(think: oversized shirt and an even bigger apron)&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Carrying a number of bowls of ramen at one-go&lt;br /&gt;Pouring hot-plate sauce&lt;br /&gt;Checking out cute customers&lt;br /&gt;Working a 12-hour shift&lt;br /&gt;Socializing with chefs&lt;br /&gt;Sweeping and mopping floors daily&lt;br /&gt;Checking out cute customers&lt;br /&gt;Acting busy in front of the owner&lt;br /&gt;Knowing the menu inside out 'til the sight of a big hot bowl of ramen made me slightly nauseous.&lt;br /&gt;Checking out cute customers&lt;br /&gt;Checking out cute customers&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oops, wait. I said that already.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3060900281666557403-3373356947020837750?l=xteena21.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://xteena21.blogspot.com/feeds/3373356947020837750/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3060900281666557403&amp;postID=3373356947020837750' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3060900281666557403/posts/default/3373356947020837750'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3060900281666557403/posts/default/3373356947020837750'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://xteena21.blogspot.com/2011/01/what-i-learn-from-my-waitressing-job.html' title='What I learn from my waitressing job.'/><author><name>t e e n a</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12522403060096402233</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hZTrdTdZ6xk/TCDSBu5yD4I/AAAAAAAABUI/khqkaqHXHIo/S220/31965_406589962528_517712528_4269979_2824041_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3060900281666557403.post-5427077640908402407</id><published>2011-01-25T12:42:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2011-01-25T12:43:34.266+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='rant'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='randomness'/><title type='text'>Shameless Dance</title><content type='html'>So it's day 2 in "Let's Write Everyday" Challenge. Haha, nah. I think labeling it as a challenge is just making it doomed to fail. I don't like labels, ha!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, I want to share with you this weird thing happening to me last night. I was suddenly hit with an intense epiphany, so strong and overpowering that I started dancing around the house shamelessly much to everyone's horror.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I started with a dance around my room accompanied with an Olly Murs' track I couldn't get enough of these days, and then my sister came home from work so I proceeded swaying and pulling off dorky dance moves across the living and dining room like a spastic.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't know, but I was just so happy without reason and I get hyper when I'm happy. If I have to explain it, perhaps these were the contributing factors of my sudden epiphany:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1.I was really, really excited of coming home this weekend and it was just 5 days away!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2.I just finished watching The Sweetest Thing on cable tv; the one with Cameron Diaz. It was a total feel-good chick lit movie which made you feel like you've just wasted an hour of your live, yet, for some weird reason, it cheered you up and you enjoyed it tremendously (although you wouldn't admit it to your date.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3.I was currently obsessed with this Olly Murs' song and it was such an easy-listening, feel-good track you couldn't help but to sway to.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I guess it was a combination of them all, so I was just really, really happy last night. My sisters and cousin looked at me like I was crazy, but it wasn't the first time I danced around the house or behaved like I'm 10 years old, so they were quite forgiving and less judgmental.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If I could be this happy and high everyday, who needs booze anymore, seriously?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3060900281666557403-5427077640908402407?l=xteena21.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://xteena21.blogspot.com/feeds/5427077640908402407/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3060900281666557403&amp;postID=5427077640908402407' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3060900281666557403/posts/default/5427077640908402407'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3060900281666557403/posts/default/5427077640908402407'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://xteena21.blogspot.com/2011/01/shameless-dance.html' title='Shameless Dance'/><author><name>t e e n a</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12522403060096402233</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hZTrdTdZ6xk/TCDSBu5yD4I/AAAAAAAABUI/khqkaqHXHIo/S220/31965_406589962528_517712528_4269979_2824041_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3060900281666557403.post-1710176091848258096</id><published>2011-01-24T15:21:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2011-01-24T15:25:08.081+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='rant'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='movie'/><title type='text'>Writing and M. Night Shyamalan.</title><content type='html'>You: "Can you promise me one thing?"&lt;br /&gt;Me: "Yeah, what is it?"&lt;br /&gt;You: "Promise me that you would write everyday."&lt;br /&gt;Me: "What am I gonna write about everyday?"&lt;br /&gt;You: "Anything. Just anything you feel like writing. Just..do it."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't know if this is gonna take me anywhere. I lack of commitment just as it is. But I'm gonna try..for at least a week? Haha.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I feel like talking about DEVIL today. I've been apprehensive to see it since it was out in the cinema because I hate, and just hate, horror movies. I'm the perfect epitome of a panicked, dramatic and jumpy audience who would probably pee her pants every time a scary scene or a sudden noise comes out in the screen. I hate being afraid and I'm not afraid to show it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_hZTrdTdZ6xk/TT0o5NLCjOI/AAAAAAAABiE/29f3pxI3WlQ/s1600/devil.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 400px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 197px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5565649677753421026" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_hZTrdTdZ6xk/TT0o5NLCjOI/AAAAAAAABiE/29f3pxI3WlQ/s400/devil.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;But you know, as a follower of M. Night Shyamalan, one should know that he never made horror movies just out of the desire to scare the audience off. The difference is that he always, always have a &lt;em&gt;scary&lt;/em&gt; story to begin with. So he doesn't really have to do much about it. Good chance that we would pee our pants ourselves after realizing what happened, if that makes sense?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I really like how the story unfold. It left you guessing right from the beginning. The concept was simple: five persons trapped in the elevator, and one of them was the Devil. There's a reason why these people were there, though, although it seemed random at first: they were no angels. They were flawed: one a liar, a thief, you know, things like that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In a way, it was like the devil wanted to punish them for their mistakes. He took their lives; these people who didn't own up to their faults.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As a kid, my sisters and I liked reading mystery comics, and there was one author that we really liked. I think she's made a story out of something similar like this. If I'm not mistaken, there were people trapped in the lift too, and they ended up killing each other. When the police finally opened the door, everyone died, and there was this cockroach coming out of the elevator. This cockroach turned out to be the devil, and as it slipped out, he said, "Hmm. I didn't even do anything. I just accidentally touched someone in there, and they ended up killing each other by themselves.."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The morale of the story? Sometimes people are bad enough by themselves.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The movie ended with a little line that goes like this: &lt;em&gt;"My mother always told me not to fear the Devil, because if the Devil is real, than God must be real too."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;Gave me chills.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3060900281666557403-1710176091848258096?l=xteena21.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://xteena21.blogspot.com/feeds/1710176091848258096/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3060900281666557403&amp;postID=1710176091848258096' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3060900281666557403/posts/default/1710176091848258096'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3060900281666557403/posts/default/1710176091848258096'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://xteena21.blogspot.com/2011/01/writing-and-m-night-shyamalan.html' title='Writing and M. Night Shyamalan.'/><author><name>t e e n a</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12522403060096402233</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hZTrdTdZ6xk/TCDSBu5yD4I/AAAAAAAABUI/khqkaqHXHIo/S220/31965_406589962528_517712528_4269979_2824041_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_hZTrdTdZ6xk/TT0o5NLCjOI/AAAAAAAABiE/29f3pxI3WlQ/s72-c/devil.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3060900281666557403.post-5730120103541942904</id><published>2011-01-17T15:18:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2011-01-17T15:19:58.922+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='this is me being melancholic'/><title type='text'>I miss you.</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_hZTrdTdZ6xk/TTPtfTza1tI/AAAAAAAABh0/b083txKuJJk/s1600/6295_113697927528_517712528_2164705_6846632_n.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 286px; height: 400px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_hZTrdTdZ6xk/TTPtfTza1tI/AAAAAAAABh0/b083txKuJJk/s400/6295_113697927528_517712528_2164705_6846632_n.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5563051086880364242" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;When I was still in school and living back home, every time I was sick, I would just lay down and sleep in my room for hours until I heard my mom coming in. She would turn on the light, and feel my forehead. She would sit by me and ask me how I was feeling, and she would know exactly what to do.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She’s say, “Tin, let’s go to the doctor. Get ready, okay?” and she would accompany me to the doctor even though she just came back from work herself.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I miss those times when I could just be a ‘child’, and have someone take care of me. In any circumstances, my mom always knew what to do. She told me that I shouldn’t take a shower at night when I was having a fever. She knew what to do when I was having pain in my stomach, when there were marks and itches in my skin, when my nose was bleeding, and every other possible scenario. I trust her with all my life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She never failed to be there for me whenever I needed anything. She was the most selfless person I knew and I really missed her. I miss her every single day, and I really, really miss her when I get sick because it reminds me how it would be if she was still around.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My sister is the next best thing. She’s becoming a mother figure that my little sister and I look up to. She just accompanied me to the doctor and in that simple gesture, she reminded me of our mom, and then I realized that I’m never truly alone.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It’s too late to beg you not to take my mom away from me. But please. Don’t ever, ever take anyone else in my life. They are all I have.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3060900281666557403-5730120103541942904?l=xteena21.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://xteena21.blogspot.com/feeds/5730120103541942904/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3060900281666557403&amp;postID=5730120103541942904' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3060900281666557403/posts/default/5730120103541942904'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3060900281666557403/posts/default/5730120103541942904'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://xteena21.blogspot.com/2011/01/i-miss-you.html' title='I miss you.'/><author><name>t e e n a</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12522403060096402233</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hZTrdTdZ6xk/TCDSBu5yD4I/AAAAAAAABUI/khqkaqHXHIo/S220/31965_406589962528_517712528_4269979_2824041_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_hZTrdTdZ6xk/TTPtfTza1tI/AAAAAAAABh0/b083txKuJJk/s72-c/6295_113697927528_517712528_2164705_6846632_n.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3060900281666557403.post-1641507471614717590</id><published>2011-01-16T16:56:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2011-01-16T16:59:05.064+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='quotes'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='500 days of summer'/><title type='text'>Wall.</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hZTrdTdZ6xk/TTKywIPOFBI/AAAAAAAABhs/rNNrkg_o2F8/s1600/tumblr_l6secyizbN1qcithio1_400.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 267px; height: 400px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hZTrdTdZ6xk/TTKywIPOFBI/AAAAAAAABhs/rNNrkg_o2F8/s400/tumblr_l6secyizbN1qcithio1_400.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5562705029670769682" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:x-large;"&gt;For Tom Hansen, this was the night where everything changed. That wall Summer so often hid behind - the wall of distance, of space, of casual - that wall was slowly coming down. For here was Tom, in her world... a place few had been invited to see with their own eyes. And here was Summer, wanting him there. Him, no one else.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3060900281666557403-1641507471614717590?l=xteena21.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://xteena21.blogspot.com/feeds/1641507471614717590/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3060900281666557403&amp;postID=1641507471614717590' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3060900281666557403/posts/default/1641507471614717590'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3060900281666557403/posts/default/1641507471614717590'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://xteena21.blogspot.com/2011/01/wall.html' title='Wall.'/><author><name>t e e n a</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12522403060096402233</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hZTrdTdZ6xk/TCDSBu5yD4I/AAAAAAAABUI/khqkaqHXHIo/S220/31965_406589962528_517712528_4269979_2824041_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hZTrdTdZ6xk/TTKywIPOFBI/AAAAAAAABhs/rNNrkg_o2F8/s72-c/tumblr_l6secyizbN1qcithio1_400.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3060900281666557403.post-1041361189523561677</id><published>2011-01-16T01:41:00.004+08:00</published><updated>2011-01-16T01:46:46.206+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='randomness'/><title type='text'>Yeah, we rock this way.</title><content type='html'>Snippets of discussion after seeing "Inception".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sis I: "I wonder..is the word 'inception' ever used in real life? What's the verb of 'inception'? To inceive? Usually we use the verb "to conceive"; they have the same meaning."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me: "Because the movie wouldn't be so cool anymore if it's called "Conception", would it? People would think it's some kind of chick flick about a pregnant woman or something.."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sis II: "Yeah! And the producers would make the sequel for the movie, called "Contraction."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahaha.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3060900281666557403-1041361189523561677?l=xteena21.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://xteena21.blogspot.com/feeds/1041361189523561677/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3060900281666557403&amp;postID=1041361189523561677' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3060900281666557403/posts/default/1041361189523561677'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3060900281666557403/posts/default/1041361189523561677'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://xteena21.blogspot.com/2011/01/yeah-we-rock-this-way.html' title='Yeah, we rock this way.'/><author><name>t e e n a</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12522403060096402233</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hZTrdTdZ6xk/TCDSBu5yD4I/AAAAAAAABUI/khqkaqHXHIo/S220/31965_406589962528_517712528_4269979_2824041_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3060900281666557403.post-6724139387770207241</id><published>2011-01-12T17:29:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2011-01-12T17:49:55.256+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='beautiful'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='quotes'/><title type='text'>Broken</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:x-large;"&gt;And then I felt sad because I realized that once people are broken in certain ways, they can’t ever be fixed, and this is something nobody ever tells you when you are young and it never fails to surprise you as you grow older as you see the people in your life break one by one. You wonder when your turn is going to be, or if it’s already happened.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3060900281666557403-6724139387770207241?l=xteena21.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://xteena21.blogspot.com/feeds/6724139387770207241/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3060900281666557403&amp;postID=6724139387770207241' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3060900281666557403/posts/default/6724139387770207241'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3060900281666557403/posts/default/6724139387770207241'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://xteena21.blogspot.com/2011/01/broken.html' title='Broken'/><author><name>t e e n a</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12522403060096402233</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hZTrdTdZ6xk/TCDSBu5yD4I/AAAAAAAABUI/khqkaqHXHIo/S220/31965_406589962528_517712528_4269979_2824041_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3060900281666557403.post-1276756678120974723</id><published>2011-01-11T17:18:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2011-01-11T18:46:37.155+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='rant'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='random perspective'/><title type='text'>From somewhere within.</title><content type='html'>I don't think I will ever understand you but I suppose that's for the best. Maybe I wouldn't feel this way if I can read you like a book. I always like being in control, especially when it comes to my feelings, but right now you're making me wonder. I'm drawing a blank.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There were times when I was sure I wasn't imagining things and that it would be impossible for you not to see it too. And then you turned around and undoed everything.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Everytime we got closer, it was almost like I just met you for the first time and we had to build our relationship all over again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wonder if this is just a wall that you try to build to keep people away, but then let me ask you this. Why do you want to keep people away? To be independent?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Loneliness is underrated. There is nothing more hurtful than feeling completely alone.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Even though we all strive to be an independent being, who doesn't want to be loved?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's alright though for now. I don't mind doing it again and again if that's what you want. I guess there are moments when I feel like it's worth it. You're worth it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I like me when I'm with you. You remind me how important friendship is. Friendship is the foundation of a relationship, and not the other way around. You remind me how fun it is talking and spending time with friends without worrying about any ulterior motives.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I like my dorky, lame self when I'm with you, because you tell it to my face that I'm being lame. Sometimes at the most unexpected moments, you would look at me and say something sweet that would leave me grinning for days.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But you should know that I value you as a friend more than anything. So nothing's gonna happen, I promise. The next move is yours.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3060900281666557403-1276756678120974723?l=xteena21.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://xteena21.blogspot.com/feeds/1276756678120974723/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3060900281666557403&amp;postID=1276756678120974723' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3060900281666557403/posts/default/1276756678120974723'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3060900281666557403/posts/default/1276756678120974723'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://xteena21.blogspot.com/2011/01/from-somewhere-within.html' title='From somewhere within.'/><author><name>t e e n a</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12522403060096402233</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hZTrdTdZ6xk/TCDSBu5yD4I/AAAAAAAABUI/khqkaqHXHIo/S220/31965_406589962528_517712528_4269979_2824041_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3060900281666557403.post-2302147775721726791</id><published>2011-01-10T22:43:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2011-01-10T22:46:38.424+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='beautiful'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='quotes'/><title type='text'>To Summer.</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hZTrdTdZ6xk/TSsbfrIg3hI/AAAAAAAABhk/vlrsUkXIMv4/s1600/tumblr_l7doxb1t961qzjlcno1_500.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 250px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hZTrdTdZ6xk/TSsbfrIg3hI/AAAAAAAABhk/vlrsUkXIMv4/s400/tumblr_l7doxb1t961qzjlcno1_500.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5560568395887336978" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large; "&gt;I love how she makes me feel, like anything's possible, or like life is worth it. - Tom.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3060900281666557403-2302147775721726791?l=xteena21.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://xteena21.blogspot.com/feeds/2302147775721726791/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3060900281666557403&amp;postID=2302147775721726791' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3060900281666557403/posts/default/2302147775721726791'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3060900281666557403/posts/default/2302147775721726791'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://xteena21.blogspot.com/2011/01/to-summer.html' title='To Summer.'/><author><name>t e e n a</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12522403060096402233</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hZTrdTdZ6xk/TCDSBu5yD4I/AAAAAAAABUI/khqkaqHXHIo/S220/31965_406589962528_517712528_4269979_2824041_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hZTrdTdZ6xk/TSsbfrIg3hI/AAAAAAAABhk/vlrsUkXIMv4/s72-c/tumblr_l7doxb1t961qzjlcno1_500.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3060900281666557403.post-7822298749398599213</id><published>2011-01-10T17:31:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2011-01-10T17:41:38.696+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='rant'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='chinese'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='randomness'/><title type='text'>I can't speak Chinese, now move on.</title><content type='html'>I have learnt to accept that I'm not gifted when it comes to being Chinese. I wasn't raised in a particularly Chinese culture, and the only Chinese thing I have ever done is probably asking for ang pao during Chinese New Year. But I doubt that counts for much.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The thing is, I'm not in touch with my Chinese heritage, so what? Big deal. I wish people would stop making a fuss about it and just accept the fact that not ALL Chinese-looking people know what yung sheng is, or what Seven Lunar Month represents. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(Honestly, I still have no idea.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As if I'm not bombarded with a high dose of Chineseness on a daily basis, (if it were a drug, I would have been overdosed) today is a day that one particular Chinese person decided to get on my nerve during lunch. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;See, let me give you a little background. My default look these days consist on a clueless, blank, confused and helpless look. It just rotates between these four, so take a pick. Sometimes I don't have any idea what is happening around me or what's being discussed until I have to ask for a translation. Well, to be fair, normally I don't really mind this, because that means that the things they discuss don't really concern me, thus, I don't need to know. And with the amount of work I have these days, well, let's just say that it's a good thing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Seriously. Sometimes I would fear having clients or office people call me on my mobile because that means something is wrong and in need for my attention. These days I would probably jump in shock or have an extreme anxiety attack everytime my phone rings! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I'm taking it like a man; being the odd one out. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If I don't even mind being one, then why wouldn't some people just let it rest? Alright, so back to my story. This afternoon during lunch I went down with a colleague of mine. We grabbed a packet of lunch and as I was about to sit, a Chinese person approached and started talking in gibberi..ops, I mean, Chinese. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I looked at him blankly, with the hope that he would be smart enough to read my expression. But of course this would be asking too much. He continued babbling and I let him finish his long sentence before I finally said, "I don't speak Chinese."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He looked at me in amusement and I decided to ignore him, hoping for a peaceful, undisturbed lunch. Apparently this was too much to ask again, because not long after, he approached me again and said, "Oh, oh, where you from? Malaysia? Philippines? Myanmar?" &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Can't he see that I was having my lunch? And I had been asked this hundreth of times before that it was really starting to get old.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I gave him a 'shut up' look but he continued mentioning some other country names. So I said, "Indonesia", and went back to face my food although I had lost my appetite. "Oh! Indonesia!" he exclaimed as if I just told him I won a Nobel Prize. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Double sigh. Seriously, he then still had the nerves to ask me why an Indonesian couldn't speak Chinese, and why I looked Chinese in the first place, you know, yada yidi yada, I could already memorize the script by heart.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;First, ask where I'm from, then which part of Indonesia, then how come I can't speak Chinese. Man. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You think I failed to see myself in the mirror every morning and realized that yes, I do have slanted eyes, that yes, I am Chinese? I know I am one, but that doesn't automatically mean I can speak the language, and even if it does just by basic assumption, why is it such a big deal when you finally find out that I can't? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At this point, I completely stopped eating, and after less than 15 minutes downstairs, I asked my colleague to just go back upstairs. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In retrospect, I should've just answered "Zimbabwe" or something, when he asked me where I was from. Then maybe he would shut up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Upstairs, my colleague and I were still talking and she told me a story of what happened a few weeks back. Our office has a unisex restroom which means it is shared by both the men and ladies. Normally, we have to wear our slippers into the bathroom so we would know if someone is inside by the missing pair of slippers outside. This signals that we ought to wait until the person is out, and then we'll get out turn. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Simple enough, right?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;See a pair of missing slippers. Means someone is inside. Means, wait and don't come in! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One time, my colleague was inside. You know, being ladies, sometimes we don't just go to the restroom to pee. Sometimes after doing our business, we spend some time examining our face in the mirror, look for any signs of aging (or acne), or silly things like that. But that's our thing, alright? And we should be spared another minute of privacy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And then suddenly the door barked open and a Chinese guy came in, even though he should have seen that someone was inside. He saw my colleague standing in front of the mirror and asked the dumbest question, "What are you doing?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At this point as she was telling the story, my colleague yelled in frustration, and she told me that she was this close to actually tell the male colleague to go and f*** himself!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Of course this has nothing to do with him being Chinese, but he happens to be one. And sorry, we can't help it.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3060900281666557403-7822298749398599213?l=xteena21.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://xteena21.blogspot.com/feeds/7822298749398599213/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3060900281666557403&amp;postID=7822298749398599213' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3060900281666557403/posts/default/7822298749398599213'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3060900281666557403/posts/default/7822298749398599213'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://xteena21.blogspot.com/2011/01/i-cant-speak-chinese-now-move-on.html' title='I can&apos;t speak Chinese, now move on.'/><author><name>t e e n a</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12522403060096402233</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hZTrdTdZ6xk/TCDSBu5yD4I/AAAAAAAABUI/khqkaqHXHIo/S220/31965_406589962528_517712528_4269979_2824041_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3060900281666557403.post-3269105811958543078</id><published>2011-01-06T23:26:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2011-01-10T22:47:17.856+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='beautiful'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='pictures'/><title type='text'>Thank You.</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_hZTrdTdZ6xk/TSXfWzzCuNI/AAAAAAAABhU/lkVhaicL_wg/s1600/168536_10150092479822529_517712528_6335721_2240136_n.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_hZTrdTdZ6xk/TSXfWzzCuNI/AAAAAAAABhU/lkVhaicL_wg/s400/168536_10150092479822529_517712528_6335721_2240136_n.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5559094898013157586" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large; "&gt;Life is partly what we make it, and partly what is made by the friends whom we choose.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3060900281666557403-3269105811958543078?l=xteena21.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://xteena21.blogspot.com/feeds/3269105811958543078/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3060900281666557403&amp;postID=3269105811958543078' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3060900281666557403/posts/default/3269105811958543078'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3060900281666557403/posts/default/3269105811958543078'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://xteena21.blogspot.com/2011/01/thank-you.html' title='Thank You.'/><author><name>t e e n a</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12522403060096402233</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hZTrdTdZ6xk/TCDSBu5yD4I/AAAAAAAABUI/khqkaqHXHIo/S220/31965_406589962528_517712528_4269979_2824041_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_hZTrdTdZ6xk/TSXfWzzCuNI/AAAAAAAABhU/lkVhaicL_wg/s72-c/168536_10150092479822529_517712528_6335721_2240136_n.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3060900281666557403.post-7806780913477856509</id><published>2011-01-04T19:32:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2011-01-04T19:47:13.151+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='new year resolution'/><title type='text'>The Plan.</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_hZTrdTdZ6xk/TSMIPlf5HEI/AAAAAAAABhE/4yOHH8Cwx_4/s1600/tumblr_l8ycuf2aeI1qauurso1_500.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_hZTrdTdZ6xk/TSMIPlf5HEI/AAAAAAAABhE/4yOHH8Cwx_4/s400/tumblr_l8ycuf2aeI1qauurso1_500.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5558295428962262082" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, Utopia, 'Palatino Linotype', Palatino, serif; color: rgb(108, 80, 92); line-height: 19px; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 14px;"&gt;Here goes.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large; "&gt;2011's New Year's Resolutions:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large; "&gt;I will&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 14px;"&gt; work just as hard this year and the only way to go is up. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large; "&gt;I will &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" &gt;learn to say 'no'. I read a self-improvement article that when you say 'yes' to other people, at times you are saying 'no' to yourself. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large; "&gt;I will&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 14px;"&gt; remember that happiness is a choice. How you spend a day and how you choose to live your life is in your control. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large; "&gt;I will&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 14px;"&gt; surround myself with friends, and put them as a better priority in my life.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large; "&gt;I will&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 14px;"&gt; go to Hong Kong just like I've been wanting to.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large; "&gt;I will&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 14px;"&gt; visit Europe and immerse myself in an entirely different culture. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large; "&gt;I will&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 14px;"&gt; buckle up and get in shape, and run a marathon.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large; "&gt;I will not &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;stop writing. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large; "&gt;I will&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 14px;"&gt; start "A Year in Pictures" project and complete it by the end of the year.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large; "&gt;I will&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 14px;"&gt; continue to weigh 50 kgs and not a pound more.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large; "&gt;I will&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 14px;"&gt; try eating at one of Gordon Ramsay's restaurant because I've been a fan.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large; "&gt;I will&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 14px;"&gt; be creative and learn a new skill. It can be an art class, or maybe I'll learn sailing or driving a powerboat. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 14px;"&gt;And &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large; "&gt;I will &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 14px;"&gt;continue being me and feeling comfortable in my own skin. I will stop worrying so much about what other people think, and just do things that make me happy. I will have fun and be open to opportunities, possibilities, and chances.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large; "&gt;I will not &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 14px;"&gt;make unrealistic new year's resolutions so these are all. :)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 14px;"&gt;Happy new year, everyone, and I hope 2011 will be kind. ♥&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/3060900281666557403-7806780913477856509?l=xteena21.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://xteena21.blogspot.com/feeds/7806780913477856509/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3060900281666557403&amp;postID=7806780913477856509' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3060900281666557403/posts/default/7806780913477856509'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3060900281666557403/posts/default/7806780913477856509'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://xteena21.blogspot.com/2011/01/plan.html' title='The Plan.'/><author><name>t e e n a</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12522403060096402233</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hZTrdTdZ6xk/TCDSBu5yD4I/AAAAAAAABUI/khqkaqHXHIo/S220/31965_406589962528_517712528_4269979_2824041_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_hZTrdTdZ6xk/TSMIPlf5HEI/AAAAAAAABhE/4yOHH8Cwx_4/s72-c/tumblr_l8ycuf2aeI1qauurso1_500.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3060900281666557403.post-7359001557438214003</id><published>2011-01-03T22:38:00.004+08:00</published><updated>2011-01-04T19:47:54.091+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='beautiful'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='quotes'/><title type='text'>Street Poet</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_hZTrdTdZ6xk/TSHfhQZ04ZI/AAAAAAAABg8/gw703_dRHv0/s1600/tumblr_ldfsgrMY9b1qzwolho1_500.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 400px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_hZTrdTdZ6xk/TSHfhQZ04ZI/AAAAAAAABg8/gw703_dRHv0/s400/tumblr_ldfsgrMY9b1qzwolho1_500.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5557969177583870354" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" &gt;&lt;span&gt;Daydream delusion, limousine eyelash / Oh baby with your pretty face / Drop a tear in my wineglass / &lt;/span&gt;Look at those big eyes / See what you mean to me /&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sweet-cakes and milkshakes / I'm a delusion angel / I'm a fantasy parade / I want you to know what I think / Don't want you to guess anymore / You have no idea where I came from / We have no idea where we're going /&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lodged in life / Like branches in a river/ Flowing downstream / Caught in the current / I carry you / You'll carry me / That's how it could be / Don't you know me? / Don't you know me by now?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3060900281666557403-7359001557438214003?l=xteena21.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://xteena21.blogspot.com/feeds/7359001557438214003/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3060900281666557403&amp;postID=7359001557438214003' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3060900281666557403/posts/default/7359001557438214003'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3060900281666557403/posts/default/7359001557438214003'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://xteena21.blogspot.com/2011/01/street-poet.html' title='Street Poet'/><author><name>t e e n a</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12522403060096402233</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hZTrdTdZ6xk/TCDSBu5yD4I/AAAAAAAABUI/khqkaqHXHIo/S220/31965_406589962528_517712528_4269979_2824041_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_hZTrdTdZ6xk/TSHfhQZ04ZI/AAAAAAAABg8/gw703_dRHv0/s72-c/tumblr_ldfsgrMY9b1qzwolho1_500.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3060900281666557403.post-8087154300361025408</id><published>2011-01-03T19:56:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2011-01-03T20:02:59.922+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='randomness'/><title type='text'>In a Nutshell.</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;2010 countdown with Lala, Hong, Arnold, Chandra, Ruz, and Stef.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Catch-up party session at Attica with Stef, Hong and new friends.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Batam Trip. &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Saw Oline, my dearest oldest friend from elementary school.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;BBQ at Sis’ MIT friends.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;I patted a dog.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;East Coast cycling and Lil’ Sis learning how to ride a bike.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Spicy buffalo wings at Buckaroo Grill. We made it to Level Six.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;I was asked my ID upon ordering beer. Was shamefully mistaken for 16-years old.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Singapore Airshow 2010.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Steamboat with Fullhouse colleagues.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;I Love Children event at Tampines.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Wedding fair at Suntec.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Timbre dinner and drinks with Wazzy.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Steamboat at Miu’s.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Catch-up and chill out at Timbre with Nicky and friends.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;TGIF with colleagues at Cafe Iguana.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Spent $50 on a cab ride home.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Dyed my hair light brown.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Cous got a new guitar.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;San Francisco skyline poster from Todd.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;BBQ at Sophia’s.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;YOG fever hit Singapore.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Bintan getaway trip.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Beerfest Asia 2010.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Cous’ birthday dinner at Kiseki.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Reunion dinner with colleagues at Imperial Kitchen.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Saturday karaoke with colleagues.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Karaoke with Elsa, Hong, and Albert.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Attica with the crew.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;New job interview.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Farewell lunch with colleagues.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;New job.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Took up freelance writing work.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Karaoke after work with new colleagues.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Neo Garden’s celebration dinner.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Afterparty at Powerhouse with colleagues.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;World Cup fever.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Orange Clove Wedding Workshop.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Shopping Saturday with colleagues.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Le Baroque and Attica with Rachel.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;BBQ at office.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Zouk with colleagues.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Wrote book review for a magazine.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Birthday party at Sentosa Cove.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Long weekend with Todd in town.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Marina Bay Sands and Inception with Todd.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Jane’s birthday.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Australia’s International School Dinner and Dance at RSW.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Brewerkz and Attica with Jerine and Rachel.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Met Mike.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Another ladies night at Le Baroque.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Wrote freelance article on National Leaders.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Pulau Ubin cycling trip.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Singles’ Party invitees at Chijmes with colleagues.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Took over Neo Yacht sales.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Mad rush to Food is Life Magazine.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Photoshoot at The Centris.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Ko Wendy’s wedding.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Evening yacht ride.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Wrote freelance article on Geeks Who Make Money.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Movie and Le Baroque with Wazzy and Steffy.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Eileen’s wedding dinner at Grand Copthorne.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;French night out with Sam.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Phuket trip with Jerine and Rachel.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Elsa’s in town.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Meet up with ex-colleagues at Penny Black Bar.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Halloween. Being Kat Von D for a night.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Karaoke and catch-up with Stef, Ruz and Sean.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Long overdue catch up with Sophia at Dempsey.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Breakfast buffet at East Coast.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Marketing team dinner at Timbre.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Haute Claire’s first bazaar at Changi Airport.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Christmas Eve at 1-Altitude.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;New Year’s Eve with the same people from last year’s countdown.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;And here we go again.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;2011, what have you got in store for me?&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3060900281666557403-8087154300361025408?l=xteena21.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://xteena21.blogspot.com/feeds/8087154300361025408/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3060900281666557403&amp;postID=8087154300361025408' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3060900281666557403/posts/default/8087154300361025408'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3060900281666557403/posts/default/8087154300361025408'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://xteena21.blogspot.com/2011/01/2010-in-nutshell.html' title='In a Nutshell.'/><author><name>t e e n a</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12522403060096402233</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hZTrdTdZ6xk/TCDSBu5yD4I/AAAAAAAABUI/khqkaqHXHIo/S220/31965_406589962528_517712528_4269979_2824041_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3060900281666557403.post-6330559183037952780</id><published>2011-01-01T12:31:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2011-01-01T12:51:55.957+08:00</updated><title type='text'>2011, here we go!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_hZTrdTdZ6xk/TR6vKpuWd-I/AAAAAAAABg0/iDrMO8GeCpU/s1600/2010-12-30%2B22_38_59.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 268px; height: 400px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_hZTrdTdZ6xk/TR6vKpuWd-I/AAAAAAAABg0/iDrMO8GeCpU/s400/2010-12-30%2B22_38_59.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5557071587755587554" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Happy New Year, lovers!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm on my way to Starbucks at Holland Village to do my freelance work, but I'll write something tonight. :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wish me luck!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3060900281666557403-6330559183037952780?l=xteena21.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://xteena21.blogspot.com/feeds/6330559183037952780/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3060900281666557403&amp;postID=6330559183037952780' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3060900281666557403/posts/default/6330559183037952780'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3060900281666557403/posts/default/6330559183037952780'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://xteena21.blogspot.com/2011/01/happy-new-year-lovers-im-on-my-way-to.html' title='2011, here we go!'/><author><name>t e e n a</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12522403060096402233</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hZTrdTdZ6xk/TCDSBu5yD4I/AAAAAAAABUI/khqkaqHXHIo/S220/31965_406589962528_517712528_4269979_2824041_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_hZTrdTdZ6xk/TR6vKpuWd-I/AAAAAAAABg0/iDrMO8GeCpU/s72-c/2010-12-30%2B22_38_59.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3060900281666557403.post-8177141582757151885</id><published>2010-12-28T17:49:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2010-12-28T17:54:38.948+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='randomness'/><title type='text'>Changes.</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hZTrdTdZ6xk/TRmy1WKGoiI/AAAAAAAABgs/YxMXko0TXe8/s1600/IMG_1707.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 267px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5555668244888986146" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hZTrdTdZ6xk/TRmy1WKGoiI/AAAAAAAABgs/YxMXko0TXe8/s400/IMG_1707.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;When I was four, he used to beat me up with belt and duster whenever I behaved badly.&lt;br /&gt;When I was five, he poured milk all over my head because I didn't want to drink a well-prepared glass of milk.&lt;br /&gt;When I was six, he locked me up in the bathroom to teach me a lesson to not be disobedient again.&lt;br /&gt;Somewhere along the line, he stopped punishing me for my mistakes.&lt;br /&gt;Maybe I simply grew up and finally got my act together.&lt;br /&gt;But a part of me believed he has become softer as he aged.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;During my junior high, I always turned to him whenever I wanted something so badly.&lt;br /&gt;During senior year, he was unable to say 'no' even though what I wanted was simply trivial and materialistic things.&lt;br /&gt;When I turned seventeen, he asked me what I wanted and how I wanted to celebrate my birthday.&lt;br /&gt;Somewhere along the line, he became my biggest supporter and fan, and someone who would always take care of my problems.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Over the years, he became my only parent and it changed everything.&lt;br /&gt;I'd like to think that after everything that's happened, it only brought us closer together.&lt;br /&gt;Because now, he is just as hurt and broken as I am.&lt;br /&gt;Yet, he continues being a strong figure for our sake.&lt;br /&gt;He's not perfect, but he tries.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know it is still far from the truth,&lt;br /&gt;But I hope that to you, I have become someone that you could be proud of too.&lt;br /&gt;I hope you could see how much I have changed and trust me for my judgment.&lt;br /&gt;Although, there is so much more that I haven't seen and so much more I have to learn.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3060900281666557403-8177141582757151885?l=xteena21.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://xteena21.blogspot.com/feeds/8177141582757151885/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3060900281666557403&amp;postID=8177141582757151885' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3060900281666557403/posts/default/8177141582757151885'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3060900281666557403/posts/default/8177141582757151885'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://xteena21.blogspot.com/2010/12/changes.html' title='Changes.'/><author><name>t e e n a</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12522403060096402233</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hZTrdTdZ6xk/TCDSBu5yD4I/AAAAAAAABUI/khqkaqHXHIo/S220/31965_406589962528_517712528_4269979_2824041_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hZTrdTdZ6xk/TRmy1WKGoiI/AAAAAAAABgs/YxMXko0TXe8/s72-c/IMG_1707.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3060900281666557403.post-7513868406913691388</id><published>2010-12-22T17:47:00.004+08:00</published><updated>2010-12-22T17:51:11.390+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='beautiful'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='quotes'/><title type='text'>~ Celine, "Before Sunrise"</title><content type='html'>&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;I always feel this pressure of being a strong and independent icon of womanhood, and without making it look like my whole life is revolving around some guy. But loving someone, and being loved means so much to me. We always make fun of it and stuff. But isn't everything we do in life a way to be loved a little more?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3060900281666557403-7513868406913691388?l=xteena21.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://xteena21.blogspot.com/feeds/7513868406913691388/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3060900281666557403&amp;postID=7513868406913691388' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3060900281666557403/posts/default/7513868406913691388'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3060900281666557403/posts/default/7513868406913691388'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://xteena21.blogspot.com/2010/12/celine-before-sunrise.html' title='~ Celine, &quot;Before Sunrise&quot;'/><author><name>t e e n a</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12522403060096402233</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hZTrdTdZ6xk/TCDSBu5yD4I/AAAAAAAABUI/khqkaqHXHIo/S220/31965_406589962528_517712528_4269979_2824041_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3060900281666557403.post-696296870972962457</id><published>2010-12-20T22:37:00.005+08:00</published><updated>2010-12-20T22:51:36.349+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='random perspective'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='birthday'/><title type='text'>Happy birthday, me. ;)</title><content type='html'>I’m terribly bad at this recently. But here we are again; another year has passed in Tina’s life cycle. (That’s me, by the way.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For the umpteenth time, let me just say that I’m never big on birthdays. I haven’t been excited about birthdays since I discovered that Santa is not real, and that Seifer Almasy is just a fictional character I can’t meet and marry. Life’s tough. My point is, I gladly let every year pass without much of a fuss if it’s up to me. But people expect you to clink a glass of champagne or two and make a toast.  Well, this is slightly a metaphor.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today at work my colleague kept asking me what my plan is for tomorrow. I sort of just stared at her blankly and said, “um, nothing.” She looked so shocked as if she just saw a UFO flying in the air. Tomorrow, in fact, is my birthday and yet, I will wake up and do the same routine that I have been doing in the past year.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ah, maybe I’m gonna throw in extra earring but that purely depends whether I will get ready in time or if I’ll be rushing from home without checking myself in the mirror. Either way, nothing will change.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The one thing that I’ll be concerned about is whether I will have wrinkles the next time I look in the mirror. After all, I’ll be 24 in less than 2 hours! Fuck! (Did I just curse? Sorry! That was very unlady-like of me.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It has become a habit though, to write my thoughts each year in this blog, so I’m not gonna break the tradition this time around, even though I’m not exactly celebrating the occasion. My perfect birthday will be, if I’m home, surrounded by my family and closest friends, and there’s that. I’m happy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;However, my mom is no longer around and my dad is not coming here until the 25th. My best friend is away on a vacation overseas, and some of my really good friends are not even in Singapore anymore. I know I still have my sisters here and thank goodness for that. Otherwise, I’m seriously going to just stay in tomorrow, fake sick, and sulk in misery.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For the past year being 23 though, I can proudly say that I’ve been good. (So Santa, I deserve a present.) My whole life has been filled with work, responsibility and things I have not fully appreciated yet until now. I love being able to work and earn my own money, and getting to spend it to make myself happy, to treat my sisters, to plan for things I want to do. Throughout school days, I kept spending, and now I’m gaining it all back.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My focus has been in work, and I don’t know what it will be in the next year. I hope it will be more on myself.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I guess if I &lt;i&gt;really &lt;/i&gt;have to celebrate my birthday, or to say something as a toast for this occasion, is for my 24-years old self to be able to maintain a balance. Take better care of myself, have better judgment, and learn that sometimes, saying &lt;i&gt;no&lt;/i&gt; is a good thing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Happy 24th, yourself. ;)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_hZTrdTdZ6xk/TQ9qwO3kONI/AAAAAAAABgY/t__lVBHSVl8/s1600/IMG_2410.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_hZTrdTdZ6xk/TQ9qwO3kONI/AAAAAAAABgY/t__lVBHSVl8/s400/IMG_2410.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5552774242428532946" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_hZTrdTdZ6xk/TQ9qgeQHptI/AAAAAAAABgQ/lM0iP9IdIHo/s1600/163016_494597477528_517712528_6137214_6848227_n.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 400px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_hZTrdTdZ6xk/TQ9qgeQHptI/AAAAAAAABgQ/lM0iP9IdIHo/s400/163016_494597477528_517712528_6137214_6848227_n.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5552773971680143058" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3060900281666557403-696296870972962457?l=xteena21.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://xteena21.blogspot.com/feeds/696296870972962457/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3060900281666557403&amp;postID=696296870972962457' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3060900281666557403/posts/default/696296870972962457'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3060900281666557403/posts/default/696296870972962457'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://xteena21.blogspot.com/2010/12/happy-birthday-me.html' title='Happy birthday, me. ;)'/><author><name>t e e n a</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12522403060096402233</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hZTrdTdZ6xk/TCDSBu5yD4I/AAAAAAAABUI/khqkaqHXHIo/S220/31965_406589962528_517712528_4269979_2824041_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_hZTrdTdZ6xk/TQ9qwO3kONI/AAAAAAAABgY/t__lVBHSVl8/s72-c/IMG_2410.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3060900281666557403.post-7016637071166093185</id><published>2010-12-04T00:06:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2010-12-04T00:07:04.780+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='randomness'/><title type='text'>Things I learn this week.</title><content type='html'>That I’m a person inspired by kindness. Your best friend being nice to you is one thing, but a random stranger surprising you with an act of kindness is quite another. I want to be a better person so I can make another random person feel the same way. &lt;br /&gt;It is action, not words, that matters.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Just as it is easy for me to feel empathetic and genuinely appreciative of others, it goes the same quite the opposite way. I don’t have the patience for rudeness and ungratefulness. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I’m not a multitasker, although that probably does not come as a surprise. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I reach a point where things get to me and then I just freak out. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Making a list is really important for me. Without it, I’m like a scattered mess. I need to know what I’m doing and what I’m about to do. I need to think one thing at a time. Although that is easily forgotten; so most of the time I have to stop myself from freaking out to sort myself out.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3060900281666557403-7016637071166093185?l=xteena21.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://xteena21.blogspot.com/feeds/7016637071166093185/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3060900281666557403&amp;postID=7016637071166093185' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3060900281666557403/posts/default/7016637071166093185'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3060900281666557403/posts/default/7016637071166093185'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://xteena21.blogspot.com/2010/12/things-i-learn-this-week.html' title='Things I learn this week.'/><author><name>t e e n a</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12522403060096402233</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hZTrdTdZ6xk/TCDSBu5yD4I/AAAAAAAABUI/khqkaqHXHIo/S220/31965_406589962528_517712528_4269979_2824041_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3060900281666557403.post-6239387592139288625</id><published>2010-11-23T18:05:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2010-11-23T18:06:09.342+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='beautiful'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='poem'/><title type='text'>This is beautiful.</title><content type='html'>You are constant&lt;br /&gt;And fearless--&lt;br /&gt;And despite the darkness threatening to consume your whole,&lt;br /&gt;You send your face to the dirt.&lt;br /&gt;And there in the rain and the earth&lt;br /&gt;And all the beautiful complexities of grit,&lt;br /&gt;You see why I can never join you.&lt;br /&gt;Under the gardens of darkness you dig your tunnels&lt;br /&gt;While I take in the sunrise above.&lt;br /&gt;At last the rain stops and I am clean&lt;br /&gt;And though the sun will never reach your face--&lt;br /&gt;In muddy caverns&lt;br /&gt;I still find your passionate ruin entrancing.&lt;br /&gt;And I will keep your place in the sun.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;~ By Shawna Howson.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3060900281666557403-6239387592139288625?l=xteena21.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://xteena21.blogspot.com/feeds/6239387592139288625/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3060900281666557403&amp;postID=6239387592139288625' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3060900281666557403/posts/default/6239387592139288625'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3060900281666557403/posts/default/6239387592139288625'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://xteena21.blogspot.com/2010/11/this-is-beautiful.html' title='This is beautiful.'/><author><name>t e e n a</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12522403060096402233</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hZTrdTdZ6xk/TCDSBu5yD4I/AAAAAAAABUI/khqkaqHXHIo/S220/31965_406589962528_517712528_4269979_2824041_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3060900281666557403.post-7516981718192788008</id><published>2010-11-21T10:51:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2010-11-21T11:02:03.471+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='rant'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='randomness'/><title type='text'>Not Sure.</title><content type='html'>Lately I've been thinking about..well, just things in general. Friends. Work. Last night I met some of my college friends whom I'm still very close with. Being with them seem so easy and effortless. We got close because of the things we had in common, real friends who have been with me for the past five years or so.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You know you reach a point in your life: when you feel like you're doing the same thing over and over again expecting different results? Or when you feel like meeting new people is exhausting rather than exciting because you're tired of the small talk but the not-so-new people aren't exactly the ones that keep you inspired?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I found it far easier to meet and talk to people that I truly was interested in knowing when I was back in university. Somehow the 9-6 routine does manage to take away the excitement of making some real friends, one with which you don't have to be superficial with.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Work life is so different. Your friends are your colleagues whom you see everyday in the office environment, who you share your lunch breaks with. Take those away, and what's left?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't know. I'm kinda rambling. Not sure what I'm getting at. Maybe I just miss college days. Being an adult isn't as merry as it seemed.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3060900281666557403-7516981718192788008?l=xteena21.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://xteena21.blogspot.com/feeds/7516981718192788008/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3060900281666557403&amp;postID=7516981718192788008' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3060900281666557403/posts/default/7516981718192788008'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3060900281666557403/posts/default/7516981718192788008'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://xteena21.blogspot.com/2010/11/not-sure.html' title='Not Sure.'/><author><name>t e e n a</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12522403060096402233</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hZTrdTdZ6xk/TCDSBu5yD4I/AAAAAAAABUI/khqkaqHXHIo/S220/31965_406589962528_517712528_4269979_2824041_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3060900281666557403.post-7508071719972637942</id><published>2010-11-17T10:26:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2010-11-17T10:29:02.712+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='randomness'/><title type='text'>Smiley.</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_hZTrdTdZ6xk/TOM9d6QhpFI/AAAAAAAABf8/VudBiEZpa1g/s1600/tumblr_l3jf3zn6pm1qbs7eto1_500.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 398px; height: 400px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_hZTrdTdZ6xk/TOM9d6QhpFI/AAAAAAAABf8/VudBiEZpa1g/s400/tumblr_l3jf3zn6pm1qbs7eto1_500.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5540339550659912786" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3060900281666557403-7508071719972637942?l=xteena21.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://xteena21.blogspot.com/feeds/7508071719972637942/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3060900281666557403&amp;postID=7508071719972637942' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3060900281666557403/posts/default/7508071719972637942'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3060900281666557403/posts/default/7508071719972637942'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://xteena21.blogspot.com/2010/11/smiley.html' title='Smiley.'/><author><name>t e e n a</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12522403060096402233</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hZTrdTdZ6xk/TCDSBu5yD4I/AAAAAAAABUI/khqkaqHXHIo/S220/31965_406589962528_517712528_4269979_2824041_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_hZTrdTdZ6xk/TOM9d6QhpFI/AAAAAAAABf8/VudBiEZpa1g/s72-c/tumblr_l3jf3zn6pm1qbs7eto1_500.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3060900281666557403.post-7762096978819343575</id><published>2010-11-14T19:46:00.004+08:00</published><updated>2010-11-14T20:13:35.489+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='rant'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='updates and the usual'/><title type='text'>Another Week.</title><content type='html'>Whenever I meet someone new, or in that phase or just getting to know someone, I always like to ask a lot of questions. How do you know someone otherwise, right? So I thought, I can do it here. The problem is, aside from probably 2 of my family members, nobody else actually reads this. (Speaking of which, I have to ask my sisters when was the last time they logged in here) So sad. The story of my life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What's sadder is asking a question and having myself answer it! But what to do, right? Anyway, I come across a blog in another person's website with some interesting questions. So here's what I'm gonna do. Whenever I feel like it (read: have no more interesting subject to write about), I'll post each question and we'll see.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For someone with lots of opinion (and unable to shut up), this could be fun. You can answer it too and we'll..um, get to know each other better. (although I'm already in first-name basis with both my sisters. How 'well' do you want us to get?)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(You know I'm kidding, don't you?)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, yeah! Let's get that on next! But first things first, I just would like to write some updates in the past week. Work? You really wanna know? Well. It's going fine, I suppose. I love my customers and all, but sometimes I'm so frustrated I wanna just scream on top my lungs: GIVE ME A BREAK! It's bad enough that these days I have to always work on Saturdays when I'm not supposed to, but even on Saturday night, or on a Sunday, I keep getting calls and texts from customers.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Alright, alright. I'm gonna stop right here. I'm gonna end up complaining more than I should if I continue. So let's move on, shall we? Over the weekend I started watching season 8 of 24, which is pretty good! My friend was really awesome for burning the complete season on CD. I think I have to treat him dinner or something. I've started rereading Harry Potter again. Last night we watched the 7th installment on DVD again so it seems right to read the last book before the movie comes out next week.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I also impulsively booked a ticket to Hong Kong for next year!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know, it's so not me to be impulsive, but I did it!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'll get nervous thinking what I'm gonna do if I really have to travel alone, so I'm not going to. It's still a couple months away so I figured there's plenty of time for my friends to join me (or me to chicken out?) It's exciting though!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Met some old friends on Friday night which was really fun!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hZTrdTdZ6xk/TN_RhquvCmI/AAAAAAAABf0/A_gHLlMrfvE/s1600/150019_455912388917_537033917_5470853_7991114_n.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 277px; height: 400px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hZTrdTdZ6xk/TN_RhquvCmI/AAAAAAAABf0/A_gHLlMrfvE/s400/150019_455912388917_537033917_5470853_7991114_n.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5539376443025197666" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Hope you had a nice weekend too and we'll catch up soon! &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; color: rgb(51, 51, 51); "&gt;♥&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3060900281666557403-7762096978819343575?l=xteena21.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://xteena21.blogspot.com/feeds/7762096978819343575/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3060900281666557403&amp;postID=7762096978819343575' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3060900281666557403/posts/default/7762096978819343575'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3060900281666557403/posts/default/7762096978819343575'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://xteena21.blogspot.com/2010/11/another-week.html' title='Another Week.'/><author><name>t e e n a</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12522403060096402233</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hZTrdTdZ6xk/TCDSBu5yD4I/AAAAAAAABUI/khqkaqHXHIo/S220/31965_406589962528_517712528_4269979_2824041_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hZTrdTdZ6xk/TN_RhquvCmI/AAAAAAAABf0/A_gHLlMrfvE/s72-c/150019_455912388917_537033917_5470853_7991114_n.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3060900281666557403.post-6560046872760570479</id><published>2010-11-08T21:36:00.004+08:00</published><updated>2010-11-08T21:46:20.119+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='pictures'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='randomness'/><title type='text'>Now this is not worth reading.</title><content type='html'>You know I'm feeling bored when I'm starting to goof around with my camera and taking pictures and all.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At least Monday is over. Catch up with you soon!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_hZTrdTdZ6xk/TNf92OLfdpI/AAAAAAAABfs/1bkeHD14hbU/s1600/PhotoFunia-281569.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 299px; height: 400px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_hZTrdTdZ6xk/TNf92OLfdpI/AAAAAAAABfs/1bkeHD14hbU/s400/PhotoFunia-281569.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5537173374836373138" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hZTrdTdZ6xk/TNf9xgeAL8I/AAAAAAAABfk/BeIY4kNNwNs/s1600/PhotoFunia-27f76b.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 299px; height: 400px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hZTrdTdZ6xk/TNf9xgeAL8I/AAAAAAAABfk/BeIY4kNNwNs/s400/PhotoFunia-27f76b.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5537173293846507458" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hZTrdTdZ6xk/TNf9n6hv5ZI/AAAAAAAABfc/qyhgk-bnZKA/s1600/PhotoFunia-28001e.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 299px; height: 400px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hZTrdTdZ6xk/TNf9n6hv5ZI/AAAAAAAABfc/qyhgk-bnZKA/s400/PhotoFunia-28001e.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5537173129042847122" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3060900281666557403-6560046872760570479?l=xteena21.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://xteena21.blogspot.com/feeds/6560046872760570479/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3060900281666557403&amp;postID=6560046872760570479' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3060900281666557403/posts/default/6560046872760570479'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3060900281666557403/posts/default/6560046872760570479'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://xteena21.blogspot.com/2010/11/now-this-is-not-worth-reading.html' title='Now this is not worth reading.'/><author><name>t e e n a</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12522403060096402233</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hZTrdTdZ6xk/TCDSBu5yD4I/AAAAAAAABUI/khqkaqHXHIo/S220/31965_406589962528_517712528_4269979_2824041_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_hZTrdTdZ6xk/TNf92OLfdpI/AAAAAAAABfs/1bkeHD14hbU/s72-c/PhotoFunia-281569.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3060900281666557403.post-2354595242309532354</id><published>2010-11-07T20:41:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2010-11-07T20:43:12.194+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='beautiful'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='quotes'/><title type='text'>Quote of the Day</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_hZTrdTdZ6xk/TNaenH6JHSI/AAAAAAAABfI/FZDT1qicUzE/s1600/tumblr_la8xz12N0j1qzpe8uo1_500.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 236px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_hZTrdTdZ6xk/TNaenH6JHSI/AAAAAAAABfI/FZDT1qicUzE/s400/tumblr_la8xz12N0j1qzpe8uo1_500.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5536787186873605410" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"&gt;After everything, I still believe this world is a beautiful place.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3060900281666557403-2354595242309532354?l=xteena21.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://xteena21.blogspot.com/feeds/2354595242309532354/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3060900281666557403&amp;postID=2354595242309532354' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3060900281666557403/posts/default/2354595242309532354'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3060900281666557403/posts/default/2354595242309532354'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://xteena21.blogspot.com/2010/11/quote-of-day.html' title='Quote of the Day'/><author><name>t e e n a</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12522403060096402233</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hZTrdTdZ6xk/TCDSBu5yD4I/AAAAAAAABUI/khqkaqHXHIo/S220/31965_406589962528_517712528_4269979_2824041_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_hZTrdTdZ6xk/TNaenH6JHSI/AAAAAAAABfI/FZDT1qicUzE/s72-c/tumblr_la8xz12N0j1qzpe8uo1_500.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3060900281666557403.post-6673533800500713994</id><published>2010-11-05T19:17:00.009+08:00</published><updated>2010-11-05T20:02:49.569+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='rant'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='updates and the usual'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='pictures'/><title type='text'>October Highlights</title><content type='html'>Oh my gosh, this month is passing by so quickly! I almost couldn’t believe when I woke up and saw the calendar the other day. It’s already November?! Shopping malls are starting to put Christmas decorations, and more than once I had to stop myself just to think about what a year it has been!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Alright, so I haven’t exactly found cure for cancer, or won any lotteries. I probably haven’t made significant changes to anyone’s lives but I feel like I have changed a great deal and gone through a lot! Wow, now this sounds like something I should write at the end of the year!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yeah, fine. I’m gonna stop myself here then. Otherwise I won’t have much to talk about again coming December.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Just thought it might be appropriate to write some snippets of the things that’s been happening this month, since I hardly blog anymore (again, not that I don’t want to!) I hope I can redeem myself (and my typing skills.) Oh, by the way, I’m writing this on my laptop at home on a Friday evening, while the television is playing in mute. The only sound I’m hearing is my own tapping of keyboards and tickles of waters from the pool outside my unit. Ah, complete bliss.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;1) Phuket trip (01-04 Oct)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;First time going to Phuket and first time travelling with my two dear colleagues! I thought I was going to have a relaxing weekend abroad when I could just lay down in the beach and sun tanned all day long, and got drunk every night. I couldn’t have been more wrong! Reality was, it was a full-packed action weekend, filled with adrenaline-rush, lots of raining and getting wet, body-aching, crazy midnight bar actions involving pingpong shows and serious stripping acts.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Don’t act so innocent! Haha. Naked girl, ping pong balls, birds, needles. Very flexible and multifunctional vagy-gy. Use your imagination. It was hilarious! It was an eye opening experience, I’m telling you. At one point the bird used landed on my lap! I swore right there and then that I would burn my pants as soon as I got home.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A full day trip to Phi Phi island, went snorkelling and swimming by the beach, tried wakeboarding and had lots and lots of tom yum soup and not enough massages. All in all it was a good trip nonetheless. It stirred up my travel bug and I’m already looking forward to my next vacation!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_hZTrdTdZ6xk/TNPuqJoDTsI/AAAAAAAABeY/vjbXUeB7N-4/s1600/Collage38.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 400px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_hZTrdTdZ6xk/TNPuqJoDTsI/AAAAAAAABeY/vjbXUeB7N-4/s400/Collage38.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5536030774874296002" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;2) Wedding dinner at Grand Copthorne (06 Oct)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My dearest former colleague invited me to her wedding reception on a Wednesday night. Although I came straight from work with dishevelled face, it was one of the most memorable wedding I’ve been to! It was great to see all my former colleagues again and you know, up to this point I’ve been to lots of weddings of my dad’s friends, and my sisters’ friends, but not so many of my own friends’. Knowing the bride or groom personally just made the whole evening more beautiful and I even teared up during the procession as the groom was given some tasks to get to the stage. At one point he was asked, “What do you love most about Eileen?” I think I don’t have to recite his answers to tell you that this moment was when I almost cried! The food was some awesome 7-course dinners which made me feel super guilty (but happy). After attending a friend’s wedding I always feel like getting married myself!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hZTrdTdZ6xk/TNPu4TtAo6I/AAAAAAAABeg/Pq3NQfL9AcY/s1600/Collage39.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 400px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hZTrdTdZ6xk/TNPu4TtAo6I/AAAAAAAABeg/Pq3NQfL9AcY/s400/Collage39.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5536031018097615778" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;3) A ‘passionate’ cruise at sea ! (07 Oct)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Being in this yacht line of business, I have lots of customers asking all sorts of questions you can possibly think of about the cruise and the itineraries they can expect. My boss thought it would be great for me to experience what I’m selling. So he brought us along for an evening cruise with ‘Passion’ to highlight the different islands and activities we can do during the trip. I had a lot of fun! The boat was a 33’ motor cruiser and it could go really, really fast! We sat outside by the deck while the boat was cruising in full speed, and I don’t even want to imagine how silly I must have looked with my hair flying in all directions! I can see why some people just fall in love with the life at sea. People who love boating rarely turn back. You either love it, and try to be near the sea whenever you can, or you don’t and the thought of spending 4 hours in the boat made you feel sea sick.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hZTrdTdZ6xk/TNPvG0y7Z1I/AAAAAAAABeo/1g8B0J5LnfA/s1600/Collage40.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 400px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hZTrdTdZ6xk/TNPvG0y7Z1I/AAAAAAAABeo/1g8B0J5LnfA/s400/Collage40.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5536031267498977106" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;4) Eat, Pray, Love (08 Oct)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I couldn’t remember the last time I watched a movie, probably since Inception. It was tad too long and I was really excited to see Eat, Pray, Love with my two girlfriends. The movie was delightful and entertaining from start to finish. I haven’t read the book, so comparison couldn’t be made, but I really admired Julia Robert’s character. It takes a lot of guts to really just go away to somewhere foreign and detach yourself from ‘real’ life. Although, at the end of it, one might wonder, which life is real? When your life is made of pretenses, isn’t it almost a sin to yourself to stay?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After which we went to Chijmes for some drinks. Le Baroque really had one of the best live music I’ve ever seen! From “The Empire State of Mind” to “Love the Way You Lie”, I lost track of time!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;5) Little Nicolas and more Le Baroque (16 Oct)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My colleague and I have been talking about having a French night out which included seeing a French movie, having a French dinner and talking in French and ending the night at a French bar! Well, so it didn’t exactly go that way, since the only French word I knew was ‘Oui’ and after like, three times saying it, it got old quickly. I realized too that you couldn’t really have a conversation with just that one vocabulary.&lt;br /&gt;Me: “Oui?”&lt;br /&gt;Sam: “Oui oui!”&lt;br /&gt;Me: “OUI!!!”&lt;br /&gt;Sam: “Hm...Oui!!!”&lt;br /&gt;Me and her: “.........”&lt;br /&gt;See what I meant?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Catching the French movie was easy enough. The Picturehouse was showing this really adorable cute movie Little Nicolas! It was a feel-good, funny flick which really got me happy afterwards. We thought of sneaking cans of beer into the cinema but we ended up having the beer before the movie. Classy indeed. Anyway, it was a great night that ended with dancing and beers. (I’m certain the French won’t approve of that!)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hZTrdTdZ6xk/TNPvd8qzvFI/AAAAAAAABew/ifhij0cKRJ8/s1600/Collage41.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hZTrdTdZ6xk/TNPvd8qzvFI/AAAAAAAABew/ifhij0cKRJ8/s400/Collage41.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5536031664749395026" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;6) Halloween night! (30 Oct)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The title pretty much explained itself. I tried being Kat Von D although I think it was more like the ‘Before’ version of her, or perhaps the Kat Von D if she had never made it to television. Kat Von D without the money and personal trainer! How terrible! I had to put on tattoos in both my arms and put on long black wig, heavy make-up and stars at the side of my face, and although I looked ridiculous, it was fun getting ready! When else am I able to dress up like that, right? We went to Clarke Quay and it was packed like a can of sardines! Inside the club I could hardly move and it was skin-on-skin with the people around you all night long! I’m still undecided whether I liked it, but well. Half of Singapore population must have been in that club that night!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hZTrdTdZ6xk/TNPv4aKFeTI/AAAAAAAABe4/GSOoSyp97rU/s1600/IMG_2256a.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hZTrdTdZ6xk/TNPv4aKFeTI/AAAAAAAABe4/GSOoSyp97rU/s400/IMG_2256a.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5536032119341807922" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Apart from these, I’ve been doing another freelance writing job. I did the last article in basically one day! But my editor seemed to like the writing, so no complaints here. If you want to see, here are my previous published articles for Mind+ magazine.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hZTrdTdZ6xk/TNPwFysWToI/AAAAAAAABfA/7h93hxgagU0/s1600/Collage42.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hZTrdTdZ6xk/TNPwFysWToI/AAAAAAAABfA/7h93hxgagU0/s400/Collage42.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5536032349266267778" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;What a month! November is gonna be even busier as I'm bracing myself for more work. But hey, ready or not, here I come!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3060900281666557403-6673533800500713994?l=xteena21.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://xteena21.blogspot.com/feeds/6673533800500713994/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3060900281666557403&amp;postID=6673533800500713994' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3060900281666557403/posts/default/6673533800500713994'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3060900281666557403/posts/default/6673533800500713994'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://xteena21.blogspot.com/2010/11/october-highlights.html' title='October Highlights'/><author><name>t e e n a</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12522403060096402233</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hZTrdTdZ6xk/TCDSBu5yD4I/AAAAAAAABUI/khqkaqHXHIo/S220/31965_406589962528_517712528_4269979_2824041_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_hZTrdTdZ6xk/TNPuqJoDTsI/AAAAAAAABeY/vjbXUeB7N-4/s72-c/Collage38.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3060900281666557403.post-4326009276558895045</id><published>2010-11-05T15:51:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2010-11-05T16:35:52.824+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='updates and the usual'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='project'/><title type='text'>Check them out.</title><content type='html'>By the way, just in case you're wondering what the two big icons are doing in the right side of my blog, well. Those are basically my life these days.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm promoting and doing sales for Neo Yacht at least 5 days a week. Add some impromptu, unplanned, out-of-the-way things I'm doing over the weekend, it's pretty much a handfull. Do check out the link and 'like' it on Facebook, because otherwise, we're not friends anymore.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Teehee. Kidding, of course.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And the new project is the online store I'm helping out with. It's very new, so not many people know about it. It'll be really awesome if you can help spread the words to your friends. Check it out yourself too; we've just launched our first collection and it's a really exciting process. Basically we know that some people are apprehensive about shopping clothes online because they aren't certain of the quality since they can't see and feel the materials upon buying. Yet, at the same time, these days online shopping has become really common because people are getting busier and sometimes it's really just a matter of convenience, buying things online and having them delivered to your doorstep without the hassles of shopping. That's the inspiration we have to launch this store. All the garments and pieces that you see here are in good qualities and we don't compromise quality over quantity.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Alright, I know I'm probably rambling. Anyhow, we do have a link to our Facebook page there and the website where you can see all our collections. I welcome any suggestions or comments and supports are deeply appreciated!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sorry I haven't been writing much. It's long weekend now so I'm gonna try writing something tonight. In the mean time, feel free to browse around and I'll catch up with you soon!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3060900281666557403-4326009276558895045?l=xteena21.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://xteena21.blogspot.com/feeds/4326009276558895045/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3060900281666557403&amp;postID=4326009276558895045' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3060900281666557403/posts/default/4326009276558895045'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3060900281666557403/posts/default/4326009276558895045'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://xteena21.blogspot.com/2010/11/check-them-out.html' title='Check them out.'/><author><name>t e e n a</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12522403060096402233</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hZTrdTdZ6xk/TCDSBu5yD4I/AAAAAAAABUI/khqkaqHXHIo/S220/31965_406589962528_517712528_4269979_2824041_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3060900281666557403.post-911826386793590395</id><published>2010-10-31T23:01:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2010-10-31T23:03:07.590+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='beautiful'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='quotes'/><title type='text'>Alone.</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hZTrdTdZ6xk/TM2E3A5by8I/AAAAAAAABeQ/HNjWcubGGlA/s1600/tumblr_lb4cqeL3eo1qzwolho1_500.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hZTrdTdZ6xk/TM2E3A5by8I/AAAAAAAABeQ/HNjWcubGGlA/s400/tumblr_lb4cqeL3eo1qzwolho1_500.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5534225597776776130" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"&gt;And now you're with someone else and I must go home, alone, to think about how long it takes to heal an alien heart.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3060900281666557403-911826386793590395?l=xteena21.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://xteena21.blogspot.com/feeds/911826386793590395/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3060900281666557403&amp;postID=911826386793590395' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3060900281666557403/posts/default/911826386793590395'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3060900281666557403/posts/default/911826386793590395'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://xteena21.blogspot.com/2010/10/alone.html' title='Alone.'/><author><name>t e e n a</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12522403060096402233</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hZTrdTdZ6xk/TCDSBu5yD4I/AAAAAAAABUI/khqkaqHXHIo/S220/31965_406589962528_517712528_4269979_2824041_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hZTrdTdZ6xk/TM2E3A5by8I/AAAAAAAABeQ/HNjWcubGGlA/s72-c/tumblr_lb4cqeL3eo1qzwolho1_500.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3060900281666557403.post-4913410209632428554</id><published>2010-10-24T00:46:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2010-10-24T00:49:31.485+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='beautiful'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='quotes'/><title type='text'>Quote of the Day</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_hZTrdTdZ6xk/TMMRpFoMuII/AAAAAAAABeA/knVuEpE742g/s1600/3186_1142179555283_1251287838_369467_3830051_n.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 284px; height: 400px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_hZTrdTdZ6xk/TMMRpFoMuII/AAAAAAAABeA/knVuEpE742g/s400/3186_1142179555283_1251287838_369467_3830051_n.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5531284164924192898" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"&gt;The most significant gifts are the ones most easily overlooked. Small, everyday blessings: woods, health, music, laughter, memories, books, family, friends, second chances, warm fireplaces, and all the footprints scattered throughout our days.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3060900281666557403-4913410209632428554?l=xteena21.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://xteena21.blogspot.com/feeds/4913410209632428554/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3060900281666557403&amp;postID=4913410209632428554' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3060900281666557403/posts/default/4913410209632428554'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3060900281666557403/posts/default/4913410209632428554'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://xteena21.blogspot.com/2010/10/quote-of-day.html' title='Quote of the Day'/><author><name>t e e n a</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12522403060096402233</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hZTrdTdZ6xk/TCDSBu5yD4I/AAAAAAAABUI/khqkaqHXHIo/S220/31965_406589962528_517712528_4269979_2824041_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_hZTrdTdZ6xk/TMMRpFoMuII/AAAAAAAABeA/knVuEpE742g/s72-c/3186_1142179555283_1251287838_369467_3830051_n.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3060900281666557403.post-4541674540022781133</id><published>2010-10-19T21:43:00.004+08:00</published><updated>2010-10-19T21:53:05.096+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='rant'/><title type='text'>Control.</title><content type='html'>I hope you all won't hate me for haven't been updating this site for... Gosh, I've lost track. I feel like I'm losing a little bit of my sanity everyday as I'm getting more and more attached to work.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My friend keeps telling me. "Work is not who you are. It's what you are paid for. Don't get too emotionally attached, and don't ever bring it home."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But what can I say when being emotional is part of my nature? How can I distinguish work and personal life so easily when most of the time I spend is at work?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And I let people get to me easily. I take the people I meet, the people I interact with, too seriously. I take their opinions to heart. I beam over their satisfaction, and gloom over their complains.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What is the secret of being professional? How can you separate and compartmentalize parts of your life as you wish? How can you not let things get to you?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"You learn as you go along," I was told. I guess. It's true for everything. I wish I can learn faster because I'm being way too emotional for my own good.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sorry. To be fair, things have been pretty okay for me. I haven't entirely been miserable during my absence, okay. I'll blog more happy things next time, I promise!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3060900281666557403-4541674540022781133?l=xteena21.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://xteena21.blogspot.com/feeds/4541674540022781133/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3060900281666557403&amp;postID=4541674540022781133' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3060900281666557403/posts/default/4541674540022781133'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3060900281666557403/posts/default/4541674540022781133'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://xteena21.blogspot.com/2010/10/control.html' title='Control.'/><author><name>t e e n a</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12522403060096402233</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hZTrdTdZ6xk/TCDSBu5yD4I/AAAAAAAABUI/khqkaqHXHIo/S220/31965_406589962528_517712528_4269979_2824041_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3060900281666557403.post-7779414132074189363</id><published>2010-09-20T22:56:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2010-09-20T22:57:50.246+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='beautiful'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='quotes'/><title type='text'>..Maybe.</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_hZTrdTdZ6xk/TJd2KiRug3I/AAAAAAAABd4/B9N_jb2Ff4U/s1600/3010313154_5bebe85442.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 192px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_hZTrdTdZ6xk/TJd2KiRug3I/AAAAAAAABd4/B9N_jb2Ff4U/s400/3010313154_5bebe85442.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5519009791737758578" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;And maybe I'll sleep at the station because there's nothing to go home to but an empty fridge and some stale mayonnaise.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And maybe I'll make friends with the guys sleeping under cardboard boxes and newspapers and we'll discuss what it means to love and to live.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And maybe I'll wander the city, one lost particle in a dust storm of Mondays, late nights and reports due yesterday.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And maybe I'll get on a plane or a ship and get lost in places I've never been lost in before.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And maybe I'll keep my phone on me in case you call. And tell me there's something to come home to.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3060900281666557403-7779414132074189363?l=xteena21.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://xteena21.blogspot.com/feeds/7779414132074189363/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3060900281666557403&amp;postID=7779414132074189363' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3060900281666557403/posts/default/7779414132074189363'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3060900281666557403/posts/default/7779414132074189363'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://xteena21.blogspot.com/2010/09/maybe.html' title='..Maybe.'/><author><name>t e e n a</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12522403060096402233</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hZTrdTdZ6xk/TCDSBu5yD4I/AAAAAAAABUI/khqkaqHXHIo/S220/31965_406589962528_517712528_4269979_2824041_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_hZTrdTdZ6xk/TJd2KiRug3I/AAAAAAAABd4/B9N_jb2Ff4U/s72-c/3010313154_5bebe85442.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3060900281666557403.post-7771951448436844928</id><published>2010-09-19T00:40:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2010-09-19T00:53:55.001+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='randomness'/><title type='text'>Beautiful stranger</title><content type='html'>Even though you're the most hopeless guy, I like the way you get me all giddy and dreamy whenever I think about you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I feel like a little girl who's just had her first crush with someone she barely knew. I guess in a way I have to thank you for reminding me that at least I still have a soul. The ability to like someone in the most innocent way, the easiest way.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Not that I think we'll ever have a chance. But it's alright. I like liking you as it is. I think I'll freak out if I get something more out of it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So. Stay that way. Stay mysterious and nonchalant. You're cute that way. ;)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"&gt;No matter where you go, bring your love with you&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3060900281666557403-7771951448436844928?l=xteena21.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://xteena21.blogspot.com/feeds/7771951448436844928/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3060900281666557403&amp;postID=7771951448436844928' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3060900281666557403/posts/default/7771951448436844928'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3060900281666557403/posts/default/7771951448436844928'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://xteena21.blogspot.com/2010/09/beautiful-stranger.html' title='Beautiful stranger'/><author><name>t e e n a</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12522403060096402233</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hZTrdTdZ6xk/TCDSBu5yD4I/AAAAAAAABUI/khqkaqHXHIo/S220/31965_406589962528_517712528_4269979_2824041_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3060900281666557403.post-5047379968492631104</id><published>2010-09-18T11:46:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2010-09-18T12:03:54.509+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='rant'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='randomness'/><title type='text'>One is the loneliest number!</title><content type='html'>So my ex-colleague is getting married and she messaged us a few weeks back over at Facebook to let us know that we are all invited to the party. She included a bunch of us ex-colleagues in the message and said:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Hey, so PJ + bla bla (her respective other)&lt;i&gt;, &lt;/i&gt;Rachel + bla bla (her respective other)&lt;i&gt;, &lt;/i&gt;Bee Hwee + bla bla (her respective other - in fact her husband!), Seraph + bla bla (her respective other), Christina, ...."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;COMMA!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&gt;No plus, not even a fake name inserted there to save my pride. That's it, just comma!! So saaaddd!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was hit by the realization that I may be the only &lt;i&gt;single &lt;/i&gt;one among us. Heck, I may be the only &lt;i&gt;single &lt;/i&gt;one in town! In the whole Singapore! *insert all sorts of mockery here* Go ahead, you know you want it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;While everyone is going to be there with their plus one, the fact that I will be going alone will be magnified and people will start to talk. A girl at a certain age, alone, unacceptable! I anticipate whispers and gossips as people stared, trying to find out what's wrong with me, and within 5 seconds of talking to me, they would understand why.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've been living with &lt;i&gt;myself &lt;/i&gt;for the past 23 years! Now you know why I'm crazy sometimes!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Aside from the sad prospect of going solo to attend a beautiful wedding ceremony of a lovely friend of mine, I am absolutely excited to meet my ex-colleagues!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hZTrdTdZ6xk/TJQ57jJrWvI/AAAAAAAABdQ/BxuhjEPQKWc/s1600/IMG_0509.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hZTrdTdZ6xk/TJQ57jJrWvI/AAAAAAAABdQ/BxuhjEPQKWc/s400/IMG_0509.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5518099138646596338" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;p.s: By the way, in case you couldn't tell, this is meant to be a joke! ;))&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;p.s.s: I'm writing this while listening to Lil' Wayne - I'm Going Solo. It's a cruel coincidence, isn't it? Ha!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3060900281666557403-5047379968492631104?l=xteena21.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://xteena21.blogspot.com/feeds/5047379968492631104/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3060900281666557403&amp;postID=5047379968492631104' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3060900281666557403/posts/default/5047379968492631104'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3060900281666557403/posts/default/5047379968492631104'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://xteena21.blogspot.com/2010/09/one-is-loneliest-number.html' title='One is the loneliest number!'/><author><name>t e e n a</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12522403060096402233</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hZTrdTdZ6xk/TCDSBu5yD4I/AAAAAAAABUI/khqkaqHXHIo/S220/31965_406589962528_517712528_4269979_2824041_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hZTrdTdZ6xk/TJQ57jJrWvI/AAAAAAAABdQ/BxuhjEPQKWc/s72-c/IMG_0509.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3060900281666557403.post-3276068701647297765</id><published>2010-09-16T22:24:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2010-09-19T01:16:34.982+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='quotes'/><title type='text'>Have been.</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hZTrdTdZ6xk/TJIotTotk2I/AAAAAAAABdI/Uj5gBgd1xjI/s1600/tumblr_l61wlelqKS1qa3vt1o1_500.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 390px; height: 400px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hZTrdTdZ6xk/TJIotTotk2I/AAAAAAAABdI/Uj5gBgd1xjI/s400/tumblr_l61wlelqKS1qa3vt1o1_500.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5517517252312535906" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"&gt;I know you're just a rag doll now, sewn together with memories that we might have had.&lt;br /&gt;I know you're just the dream inside of a dream&lt;br /&gt;And don't worry, I know I don't know you, anymore.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3060900281666557403-3276068701647297765?l=xteena21.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://xteena21.blogspot.com/feeds/3276068701647297765/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3060900281666557403&amp;postID=3276068701647297765' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3060900281666557403/posts/default/3276068701647297765'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3060900281666557403/posts/default/3276068701647297765'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://xteena21.blogspot.com/2010/09/have-been.html' title='Have been.'/><author><name>t e e n a</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12522403060096402233</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hZTrdTdZ6xk/TCDSBu5yD4I/AAAAAAAABUI/khqkaqHXHIo/S220/31965_406589962528_517712528_4269979_2824041_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hZTrdTdZ6xk/TJIotTotk2I/AAAAAAAABdI/Uj5gBgd1xjI/s72-c/tumblr_l61wlelqKS1qa3vt1o1_500.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3060900281666557403.post-2008589760059248937</id><published>2010-09-16T21:41:00.004+08:00</published><updated>2010-09-16T22:13:18.330+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='rant'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='updates and the usual'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='randomness'/><title type='text'>Dentist visit</title><content type='html'>I have never liked the word D! Dragon! Doctor! Dentist! Double D!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But now I'm gonna talk about my dysfunctional relationship with the d in dentist! As a kid, my brain has already been shutting down and rejecting the idea of going to the dentist. Gosh, I can still remember the fear I would have just by sitting at the waiting room, trying so hard to distract myself by reading magazines, but of course it didn't really help. In my mind I kept thinking I heard some screaming going on inside the room. Maybe my parents would have heard that too, and thus, rescued me from the premises.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And of course! The smell! Why is it that all dentist offices have the same smell?! Do they have the same air freshener? Is there a handbook on that? You can't be certified as a dentist unless you buy this freshener which smells like, pain and fear!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To conclude, it's safe to say that I would be really, really content and pleased with myself if I don't ever need to pay a visit to this fine establishment again. But the time has come and I have to fulfill my destiny! Since a few days ago I've been having toothache, which came on and off. Well, I could still eat and the pain wasn't so intense that prohibited me from doing anything else. For most parts it was still tolerable, so I thought initially it was just a case of sensitive tooth from something I might have eaten.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It wasn't until yesterday that the pain was getting more intense and at night I couldn't sleep because my tooth was throbbing, and there's nothing I could do about it! In the morning I thought I couldn't be able to get up and go to work, but somehow I managed. And yeah, the pain was still on-and-off and during the day, I didn't feel as much pain at work as I was during the night before.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But it's clear that something was wrong, and I wasn't about to wait until the pain got worse, so this morning I started calling dentist offices to make an appointment. Alright, I'm starting to bore you so I'm gonna speed up. Let's just say that it freaking hurts during the examination!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was bad enough having a throbbing tooth, it was even worse when someone kept poking and scratching it! (And for your information, there! The smell was there again! I told you - same air-freshener.) By the end of it, I almost couldn't speak because the dentist gave me some anesthetic so I couldn't feel the left side of my mouth. Isn't it crazy, how something so small like a tooth (which otherwise you wouldn't pay too attention to, I mean, compared to let's say, your arm! Or your leg) could generate that much pain.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Once my toe nail broke and shite, I almost pissed myself out of pain. And it's just a freaking toe nail! What happens if my fingers got cut off!!! Maybe I'll pass out. *touch wood, touch wood!*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, yeah. They did an x-ray too, and my wisdom teeth were in the wrong direction. Although, they were all at the very back so the doctor said it's not that urgent to get them removed. Eventually I need to, though. He mentioned that these days all you gotta do is sleep, and they would remove all of them during your sleep, and you would wake up feeling nothing and no pain and the procedure is done! Sign me up, please! That's the best method I've ever heard. They need to apply the same method to..child birth process, I'd say. Ha!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sorry, getting sidetracked here. So, after the long and painful examination and treatment, the dentist gave me a painkiller to last me 12 hours each, so tonight I expect a painless sleep. But that treatment only already cost me $170!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Please, don't remind me of all the nice things I could have bought with that $170! But I guess, that's the price I have to pay for not having throbbing toothache again!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dang it. See, I told you I don't like the word D!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3060900281666557403-2008589760059248937?l=xteena21.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://xteena21.blogspot.com/feeds/2008589760059248937/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3060900281666557403&amp;postID=2008589760059248937' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3060900281666557403/posts/default/2008589760059248937'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3060900281666557403/posts/default/2008589760059248937'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://xteena21.blogspot.com/2010/09/dentist-visit.html' title='Dentist visit'/><author><name>t e e n a</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12522403060096402233</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hZTrdTdZ6xk/TCDSBu5yD4I/AAAAAAAABUI/khqkaqHXHIo/S220/31965_406589962528_517712528_4269979_2824041_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3060900281666557403.post-3712783428853294310</id><published>2010-09-15T21:42:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2010-09-15T22:25:09.762+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='rant'/><title type='text'>Uncalled</title><content type='html'>What is up with the water lately? Do I miss my memo that today people are allowed to be jerks? And I thought girls are supposed to be the sensitive ones.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sometimes I wonder if I should stop being so jokingly all the time. I cover my awkwardness with jokes, trying to be funny ha-ha to make people laugh, even if that makes me look silly. My sisters always say that I'm the clown in the family, not necessarily because I'm always happy, but because when I am, I think I kinda overdo it. Some people may call me lame. The kinder ones would say I'm a little bit, well, kinda, funny. Sometimes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, what happened earlier, I was just being my usual lame slash funny self, and I was in no way trying to hint anything or even being sarcastic. To have you suddenly explode on me like that wasn't cool at all.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I mean, how long have you known me? How long have we known each other? I know you get stressed out a lot, I know you're an overachiever and you hate failing and you hate disappointing your friends, but seriously. The more you think about it, the more you make it as a pressure, the more you're gonna piss off the people who care about you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We've been through this more than once. I feel like, this is always the part where we get frustrated with each other. You're probably thinking the same thing about me. Oh, I'm too lame, I joke when it's not the time to, I'm too sensitive, I'm too negative, or whatever else you may think of.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But I've never listened to your one liner and just immediately jumped into conclusion and threw a tantrum. The whole thing today, it really threw me off. I don't know that I have been a part of the things that have been stressing you out. Like, I demanded something in the midst of your busy, crazy life. I've always understood all of that, and it's part of the reason why I just wanna cheer you up every time we talk. It's not by any means, meant to push your buttons.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know, that I'm not supposed to have expectations now. I think we both know that. Realistically speaking, you shouldn't have expectations for me either. I'm sorry if you feel that way, especially if you feel that my expectation is stressing you out. Then don't. Really, don't let it. I never meant it to be.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think it's best that we deal with ourselves for now. We have been extremely busy these days, haven't we? Yeah, it's alright. Let it just flow. We'll find ways to catch up somehow. For now, maybe you should focus on your life, and don't let me distract you. We'll both be okay. I'm alright. I'm just really tired.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway. I'm done rambling. I was browsing through IMDb earlier and I came across this quotes from the movie In the Land of Women. I saw it on DVD a while back, and thought it was pretty decent. Maybe I'm biased 'cos Adam Brody was in it. So, there's this quote I like. It goes something like this.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"&gt;There's a big fucking world out there. It's messy, and it's chaotic, and it's never, never ever the thing you'd expect. It is ok to be scared, but you cannot allow your fears to turn you into an asshole, not when it comes to the people that love you, the people that need you&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know sometimes I may be guilty on that too. But I'm trying not to. Because it always sucks when people take out their uncalled anger on you. So, I'm trying not to ever do that again.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3060900281666557403-3712783428853294310?l=xteena21.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://xteena21.blogspot.com/feeds/3712783428853294310/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3060900281666557403&amp;postID=3712783428853294310' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3060900281666557403/posts/default/3712783428853294310'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3060900281666557403/posts/default/3712783428853294310'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://xteena21.blogspot.com/2010/09/uncalled.html' title='Uncalled'/><author><name>t e e n a</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12522403060096402233</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hZTrdTdZ6xk/TCDSBu5yD4I/AAAAAAAABUI/khqkaqHXHIo/S220/31965_406589962528_517712528_4269979_2824041_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
