<?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-15552865</id><updated>2011-04-22T03:51:57.158+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Beautiful Disaster</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://squinched.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15552865/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://squinched.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>chocolover</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00344594020092371719</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>46</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15552865.post-957682486064903702</id><published>2008-04-12T13:48:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2008-04-12T13:50:00.454+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Coming Soon</title><content type='html'>I've decided to revive my blog over the summer...do come by and visit. It's going through some major overhaul! Just hang in there! It'll be back up real soon!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15552865-957682486064903702?l=squinched.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://squinched.blogspot.com/feeds/957682486064903702/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15552865&amp;postID=957682486064903702' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15552865/posts/default/957682486064903702'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15552865/posts/default/957682486064903702'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://squinched.blogspot.com/2008/04/coming-soon.html' title='Coming Soon'/><author><name>chocolover</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00344594020092371719</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15552865.post-7512672286959295931</id><published>2006-12-14T22:53:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-12-17T00:37:51.587+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Back Home</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;"&gt;It's good to be back home...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_IIAutVCC8fk/RYFmkF-lHAI/AAAAAAAAAAM/CzNbSsmkA6k/s1600-h/CIMG2713.JPG"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5008397030878682114" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_IIAutVCC8fk/RYFmkF-lHAI/AAAAAAAAAAM/CzNbSsmkA6k/s320/CIMG2713.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;"&gt;There's a picture of me, my sister and my very shy nephew Nyles!  It's really great to see the kids again.  They just love to say the funniest things in the world!  I have this other nephew, Nico (the older brother of Nyles), who talks like a Rugrat.  His R's are W's.  Here's a typical conversation of me and Nico:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;"&gt;One fine day, he was playing with Buzzlightyear, a character from "The Toy Story"...&lt;br /&gt;Me: Hey Nic, that's a nice toy!  Who is it?&lt;br /&gt;Nico: Buzzlightyear! (pronounced as 'Buzz-light-ee-yo')&lt;br /&gt;Me: Oh!  Buzz-light-ee-yo?&lt;br /&gt;Nico: No! Buzzlightyear! (But again pronounced as 'buzz-light-ee-yo')&lt;br /&gt;Me: Buzz-light-ee-yo?&lt;br /&gt;Nico: NO!!! BUZZLIGHTYEAR! (With a louder and a more frustrated 'buzz-light-ee-yo')&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;"&gt;Haha I'm mean but it's fun to talk to them!  So that's the bulk of the things I do here...just play with my nephews.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;"&gt;I've now been introduced to the world of yoga.  There's this thing called the Bikram Yoga where you do the athletic yoga, as opposed to the meditative one.  The unique thing about it is that the room is heated so basically, you're supposed to sweat like mad.  But oh well, I didn't really sweat at all.  After one try, I've decided that I'm more compatible with the gym. :p&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;"&gt;And of course, who could ever forget the shopping??? The shopping here is fantastic because it is WAY cheaper than the ones back in Singapore.  Since the Philippines is a place known for cheap labor, a lot of imported clothes are produced here...including: GAP, OLD NAVY and TOMMY HILFIGER.  Sometimes it's difficult to control the production.  Well, good thing for me, some of these clothes/products make their way to this place called Greenhills where people can avail of these products for about 1/3 the price!  They're called export overruns...they're not fake.  They're just...not sent to the States.  Sort of like leftovers.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;"&gt;All these are fun...but at the end of the day, there's still one thing I miss: carolling!  Thinking of you guys back there...wish I could sing with you too!  But oh well, maybe next year!  I'm sure all of you are having fun making music...! Will be with you guys in thoughts!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15552865-7512672286959295931?l=squinched.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://squinched.blogspot.com/feeds/7512672286959295931/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15552865&amp;postID=7512672286959295931' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15552865/posts/default/7512672286959295931'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15552865/posts/default/7512672286959295931'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://squinched.blogspot.com/2006/12/back-home.html' title='Back Home'/><author><name>chocolover</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00344594020092371719</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp0.blogger.com/_IIAutVCC8fk/RYFmkF-lHAI/AAAAAAAAAAM/CzNbSsmkA6k/s72-c/CIMG2713.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15552865.post-2581062400478111743</id><published>2006-11-19T14:52:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-11-19T14:57:20.709+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Many Thanks!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger2/4449/1898/1600/982370/flipside.png"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger2/4449/1898/400/219612/flipside.png" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;"&gt;For all those who went to Starry Night 4: You and I Both, many many many thanks! :)  It was great performing for you guys!  You've been such a supportive crowd, I couldn't feel any more comfortable!  It's the best gig I've ever had and thanks to all of you for making it happen!  Biggest thanks goes out to all the &lt;em&gt;FLIPS &lt;/em&gt;who were all out in supporting us...your presence made all the difference!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;"&gt;To FLIPSIDE:  Thanks so much guys for giving me this opportunity to work with all of you!  I'd say it wasn't even work, it was more of, enjoying music with you guys! :) All of you have such great talents I'm really proud of each and everyone of you!  Let's not make this a &lt;em&gt;one-night-only&lt;/em&gt; event! &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15552865-2581062400478111743?l=squinched.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://squinched.blogspot.com/feeds/2581062400478111743/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15552865&amp;postID=2581062400478111743' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15552865/posts/default/2581062400478111743'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15552865/posts/default/2581062400478111743'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://squinched.blogspot.com/2006/11/many-thanks.html' title='Many Thanks!'/><author><name>chocolover</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00344594020092371719</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15552865.post-116097132177579125</id><published>2006-10-16T11:52:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-10-16T12:02:01.786+08:00</updated><title type='text'>The Case of the Scrumptious Beancurd</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;"&gt;So here I am at the Senches--&gt; short for SESS benches --&gt; short for School of Economics and Social Sciences Benches, eating my favorite Mr. Bean beancurd with pearls. Yup, you read that correctly. It's soya beanCURD with PEARLS. You see, it's really tough to order this crruent addiction. Everytime I tell the lady I want beancurd with pearls, she reaches out for the cup to get soyabean milk instead. So I'd say, "No, no, no, beanCURD." And of course, she'll look at me puzzled for about 10 seconds, until I have to repeat it again while panicking cause I'm already late for my next class. And after looking at me for 10 seconds, she will of course repeat after me. "BeanCURD?" "Yes auntie, beanCURD." So after prolonging the waiting time of those behind me (who I assume is also going to be late for class), I finally get what I want.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It is really THAT strange? Well, it's a commin thing in the Philippines. Maybe not with the big black pearls but it's still beancurd with pearls. Take a look:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6382/1443/1600/img_taho.jpg"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6382/1443/320/img_taho.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;"&gt;That whitish-transparent-ish thing on the left most is the pearls (sago).  Beside it is the sweet sauce and the one on the right is the beancurd.  Yup, this is what you see in the streetsides of Manila.  Not your usual red bean ice cream sandwhich.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15552865-116097132177579125?l=squinched.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://squinched.blogspot.com/feeds/116097132177579125/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15552865&amp;postID=116097132177579125' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15552865/posts/default/116097132177579125'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15552865/posts/default/116097132177579125'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://squinched.blogspot.com/2006/10/case-of-scrumptious-beancurd.html' title='The Case of the Scrumptious Beancurd'/><author><name>chocolover</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00344594020092371719</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15552865.post-116075423268208216</id><published>2006-10-13T23:02:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-10-13T23:43:52.766+08:00</updated><title type='text'>I'm a Superhero</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;"&gt;Have you ever thought of who you'd wanna be if you were a superhero?  Or what your superpowers would be?  Cause if I were one, I'd probably want to have the ability to know what other people are thinking.  Well of course it can be a pain especially after watching the movie "What Women Want" but I guess this world needs a little bit more honesty.  I just hate having to second guess what people are feeling or thinking.  There's so much room to make false judgement and conclusions which may not be true...  I know it's not as selfless as having the capacity to "save the world" but I guess it's a little bit more connected to the normal side.  I won't have the need to stop my feelings for other people (like Superman for Lana Lang) cause I always have to "go somewhere".  Or I don't have to lie about my job (like Sydney Bristow) cause practically, I don't have a job (yet)!  Ok, Sydney Bristow isn't really a superhero but you know what I mean.  So if I just knew what other people are thinking, it doesn't mean that I have to fly around and save lives...well except for those who are suicidal.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;"&gt;Anyway, tomorrow is the ACJC Open House so I urge all of you to drop by. :) It's a great school I'm sure everyone will enjoy it!  Go and listen to the choir sing as well!  Surely, you'll have a fun time there. :)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15552865-116075423268208216?l=squinched.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://squinched.blogspot.com/feeds/116075423268208216/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15552865&amp;postID=116075423268208216' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15552865/posts/default/116075423268208216'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15552865/posts/default/116075423268208216'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://squinched.blogspot.com/2006/10/im-superhero.html' title='I&apos;m a Superhero'/><author><name>chocolover</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00344594020092371719</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15552865.post-116041287903499865</id><published>2006-10-09T23:38:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-10-10T00:56:26.923+08:00</updated><title type='text'>BREAK BREAK BREAK!</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Whee! Finally the break has come! Sigh it's been a long time since I last saw daylight...I've been in school catching up with lessons, meeting deadlines, meeting groupmates...roar. No wonder they call SMU the Singapore Meeting University. Lame, but yes, I now understand why. Although my week is not exactly study-free, here's what I intend to do:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;1. Go back to the gym.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;2. Read a book.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;3. Finish my TV show backlogs.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;4. Go to the beach.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;5. Watch a movie.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;6. Shop!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;7. Sing!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;8. Ok, fine. Study a bit.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Oh and yes, I plan to update my blog more regularly from now on. :) But for now, I've got some tv backlogs to finish! Ta-ta!&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/15552865-116041287903499865?l=squinched.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://squinched.blogspot.com/feeds/116041287903499865/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15552865&amp;postID=116041287903499865' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15552865/posts/default/116041287903499865'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15552865/posts/default/116041287903499865'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://squinched.blogspot.com/2006/10/break-break-break.html' title='BREAK BREAK BREAK!'/><author><name>chocolover</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00344594020092371719</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15552865.post-115101679423715203</id><published>2006-06-23T06:45:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-06-23T06:55:09.043+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Waiting</title><content type='html'>It's 6:46AM and I'm trying to keep myself awake. I have about half an hour more before I leave for the airport. Don't really dare to sleep cause I might miss my flight! Horrors of horrors if that really happens. So anyway, I just decided to update since I've finished packing and there's nothing else to do.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's going to be a truly busy two months ahead of me. Well, right now, I'm just waiting for my flight to Manila to spend a good 5 days with my family and also to celebrate my Grandmother's 90th birthday. After that, I've got a day left in Singapore (which will be used to for some performance) before I fly to Europe for our choral tour. This time, we will be competing in Wales. That will be followed by my trip to France, Italy and Austria (Sound of Music, here I come!). I'll be coming back to Singapore to do my matriculation stuff at SMU and if my parents allow me, I'll be visiting my sister in Canada after that!  I'm really excited about travelling...hope things work out the way it was planned.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15552865-115101679423715203?l=squinched.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://squinched.blogspot.com/feeds/115101679423715203/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15552865&amp;postID=115101679423715203' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15552865/posts/default/115101679423715203'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15552865/posts/default/115101679423715203'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://squinched.blogspot.com/2006/06/waiting.html' title='Waiting'/><author><name>chocolover</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00344594020092371719</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15552865.post-115073883842444500</id><published>2006-06-20T01:33:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-06-20T01:40:38.446+08:00</updated><title type='text'>I've Lost It</title><content type='html'>&lt;em&gt;Cristina: How do you keep your edge sir? Because I've watched you and you've been doing this a long time and you're clean, you're focused, you are the job, nothing gets to you. And the thing is sir, I was like that, until I got here. Until I actually started doing this job and now everything is---is fuzzy and &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Chief: That’s beside the point. &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Cristina: No see sir, this is the point. Because I can't tell you, I can't tell you what happened in that room. And before I could have, no guilt, no loyalties, no problem. Before, before I wouldn't have even been in that room. I wouldn't have gotten involved. I would have never frozen in surgery. And I would have told him what I thought he should do. I had an edge, sir. I had an edge and I've lost it, and I need it. I need it back. So, if you could just tell me, how you keep yours and how not to be affected, I know I could be a great surgeon. So if you could just give me the answers, I would really appreciate it.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The truth is, I've become more human.  I've learned how to feel...how to let go.  But I don't know whether it is actually a good thing.  It made things less clear.  No more black or white. It's all different shades of grey.  I get distracted and sometimes, it feels like I just couldn't get back on track.  Silly, huh?  But being more human made me learn to care...not just about myself but care about others too.  I've learned to laugh...but I've learned to cry too.  Others define it as living life to the fullest.  But is it?  I'm not too sure.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15552865-115073883842444500?l=squinched.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://squinched.blogspot.com/feeds/115073883842444500/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15552865&amp;postID=115073883842444500' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15552865/posts/default/115073883842444500'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15552865/posts/default/115073883842444500'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://squinched.blogspot.com/2006/06/ive-lost-it.html' title='I&apos;ve Lost It'/><author><name>chocolover</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00344594020092371719</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15552865.post-115029230884411670</id><published>2006-06-14T21:34:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-06-14T21:38:28.863+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Black Roses</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;Can I ask you a question please&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Promise you won't laugh at me&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Honestly I'm standing here&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Afraid I'll be betrayed&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;As twisted as it seems,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; I only fear love when it's in my dreams&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;So let the morning light come in and let the darkness fade away&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Can you turn my black roses red?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Drowning in my loneliness&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;How long must I hold my breath&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;So much emptiness inside I could fill the deepest sea&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;I reach to the sky as the moon looks on&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;One last year has come and gone&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;It's time to let your love rain down on me&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Can you turn my black roses red?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Cuz I'm feelin like I'll blame it on love.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15552865-115029230884411670?l=squinched.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://squinched.blogspot.com/feeds/115029230884411670/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15552865&amp;postID=115029230884411670' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15552865/posts/default/115029230884411670'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15552865/posts/default/115029230884411670'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://squinched.blogspot.com/2006/06/black-roses.html' title='Black Roses'/><author><name>chocolover</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00344594020092371719</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15552865.post-114957478380399111</id><published>2006-06-06T13:44:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-06-06T14:19:43.833+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Life So Far</title><content type='html'>Yes I know I haven't been updating much.  I've been really occupied with so much stuff that life actually feels like a soap opera now.  And no, I'm not exaggerating.  But despite all these, I'm glad there are people around me who stand by me :)  And of course, prayers do work wonders!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hmm..I don't really feel like blogging about it.  So I'll blog again when I feel like writing already. :p  Going to get my fix of McDreamy now.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15552865-114957478380399111?l=squinched.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://squinched.blogspot.com/feeds/114957478380399111/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15552865&amp;postID=114957478380399111' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15552865/posts/default/114957478380399111'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15552865/posts/default/114957478380399111'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://squinched.blogspot.com/2006/06/life-so-far.html' title='Life So Far'/><author><name>chocolover</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00344594020092371719</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15552865.post-114899558376772029</id><published>2006-05-30T21:13:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-05-30T21:27:55.346+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Thank You</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:180%;"&gt;An Evening With Friends 2006&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;Thank you so much for sharing this special night with me. It was indeed a wonderful night of music making! See you all again next year. :)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15552865-114899558376772029?l=squinched.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://squinched.blogspot.com/feeds/114899558376772029/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15552865&amp;postID=114899558376772029' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15552865/posts/default/114899558376772029'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15552865/posts/default/114899558376772029'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://squinched.blogspot.com/2006/05/thank-you.html' title='Thank You'/><author><name>chocolover</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00344594020092371719</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15552865.post-114433192363748316</id><published>2006-04-06T21:46:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-04-06T21:58:45.393+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Here I Go Again</title><content type='html'>It's just all so familiar.  A year ago, I was in the exact same rut.  I've been trying to get out but I'm just too afraid.  And even if I've managed to break down the wall, it feels naked.  It's as if sooner or later, I'll somehow land back to where I came from. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Whenever I muster up enough courage I realize that it's not the only thing I need.  Trust. I need to trust myself that it is possible and that I can do it.  But why is it so hard?  And even if I manage to succeed...is it enough?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;"Sometimes it feels no one understands.  I don't even know whyI do the things I do.  When pride builds me up till I can't see my soul, will you break down these walls and pull me through?"&lt;/em&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15552865-114433192363748316?l=squinched.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://squinched.blogspot.com/feeds/114433192363748316/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15552865&amp;postID=114433192363748316' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15552865/posts/default/114433192363748316'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15552865/posts/default/114433192363748316'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://squinched.blogspot.com/2006/04/here-i-go-again.html' title='Here I Go Again'/><author><name>chocolover</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00344594020092371719</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15552865.post-114407606791223825</id><published>2006-04-03T22:23:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-04-03T22:54:27.973+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Independent Woman</title><content type='html'>I happened to stumble about this MSN site...it's called "10 People Every Woman Needs".  I thought it was pretty interesting though I don't fully agree with it.  It just goes to show how the world sees women in general.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. &lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#c0c0c0;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;An Ethel Mertz&lt;/strong&gt;. This lifelong friend will be there for all your impetuous "Lucy" moments, whether you're embarking on a crazy scheme (spying on your ex, dying your hair pink) or nipping at the Vitameatavegamin.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;This is definitely true.  It's really great to have friends who can just listen anytime of the day.  It's fun to talk about anything and everything to that person cause you know that she will definitely understand what you mean.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. &lt;span style="color:#c0c0c0;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;A boy friend&lt;/strong&gt;. As in platonic male pal. While he'll never replace your girlfriends for late-night Ben &amp; Jerry's gossip sessions, having a Ben or Jerry in your life can be just as beneficial. He'll be your plus-one at parties and the third wheel when you need a buffer. And his insight is especially helpful for all those "Y" questions, such as, "Why are men so...?" "Why did he...?" and "Why won't he...?" &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;Yes, indeed.  Truly helpful!  But some of them can be quite gossipfreaks too and that's the scary part.  Another danger is that the friendship develops into something more for one party...which totally spells disaster.  Although we always say that the friendship should always come before anything else, it's just difficult to walk the talk.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3.&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt; &lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#c0c0c0;"&gt;A born-to-shop pal.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As much as I'd love to agree to this...it's not good when you are broke.  Shopping with friends make me lose my senses.  I tend to think that it's okay to indulge more than usual since everyone else is doing the same thing anyway!  Bad. Bad. Bad.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4. &lt;span style="font-size:85%;color:#c0c0c0;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;A money manager.&lt;/strong&gt; A financial advisor can help you get fiscally fit, from reducing your debt to funding your kids' education.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;I am proud to say that this is someone I do not need!  Ok, ok, ok...before you object!  Hear me out!  I am a responsible person and I can manage my own money quite well...why would I need a money manager?!  Plus...most of the people who offered to be my money manager are 100% corrupt.  So...who needs a money manager??  I'm not a shopaholic, you know.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5. &lt;span style="font-size:85%;color:#c0c0c0;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;A fitness buddy.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;I think it's fun to have a fitness buddy but it's not a must.  Sometimes fitness buddies can actually talk you out of going to the gym...and that's definitely a no-no.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;6. &lt;span style="font-size:85%;color:#c0c0c0;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;A gynecologist.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Err... I think this is self-explanatory.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;7. &lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#c0c0c0;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;A Bea Arthur.&lt;/strong&gt; They don't call her a "Golden Girl" for nothing. Having an empowered, feisty female role model lends wonderful perspective.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;Some may need it and some may not.  Since women tend to overindulge in their emotions, it's good to be reminded that there is such a thing called 'enough'.  I'd really like to think that women and men are equal...and hope that the world feels the same way as well.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;8.&lt;span style="color:#c0c0c0;"&gt; &lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;A trusted hairstylist.&lt;/strong&gt; Trusted being the key word. This is someone who comprehends the meaning of "just a trim" and can teach you how to achieve salon results at home.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;Of course!  Who wouldn't want one??&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;9.  &lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;color:#c0c0c0;"&gt; A dream lover.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;Uhm...really?  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;10.  &lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#c0c0c0;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;A child.&lt;/strong&gt; Watching a kid (yours or someone else's) at play reminds you how simple and joyful life can be.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;I think this is true.  You'll be surprised by how they can actually make your day a whole lot better. :)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15552865-114407606791223825?l=squinched.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://squinched.blogspot.com/feeds/114407606791223825/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15552865&amp;postID=114407606791223825' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15552865/posts/default/114407606791223825'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15552865/posts/default/114407606791223825'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://squinched.blogspot.com/2006/04/independent-woman.html' title='Independent Woman'/><author><name>chocolover</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00344594020092371719</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15552865.post-114391827939455775</id><published>2006-04-02T02:39:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2006-04-02T03:04:45.893+08:00</updated><title type='text'>It's The Little Things That Matter</title><content type='html'>&lt;em&gt;"A smile costs nothing but gives much.  It enriches those who receive without making poorer those who give.  It takes but a moment, but the memory of it sometimes lasts forever.  None is so rich or mighty that he cannot get along without it and none is so poor that he cannot be made rich by it.  Yet a smile cannot be bought, begged, borrowed, or stolen, for it is something that is of no value to anyone until it is given away."&lt;/em&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15552865-114391827939455775?l=squinched.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://squinched.blogspot.com/feeds/114391827939455775/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15552865&amp;postID=114391827939455775' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15552865/posts/default/114391827939455775'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15552865/posts/default/114391827939455775'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://squinched.blogspot.com/2006/04/its-little-things-that-matter_02.html' title='It&apos;s The Little Things That Matter'/><author><name>chocolover</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00344594020092371719</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15552865.post-114338800227808733</id><published>2006-03-26T23:06:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-03-26T23:47:11.540+08:00</updated><title type='text'>No Change For Now</title><content type='html'>Guess what! I'm updating my blog from a blogger site that's in Chinese...and since you all can read this entry now, it means that...heh! My chinese is improving!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I just moved in to my new temporary place and so far everything has been good. They are a really nice family and I enjoy their company as well. =) I get to be the big sister...something I've never experienced yet. But then, of course...Not being with Joanne Chong is so different! It has been a GREAT two weeks being with her...she's like the sister that I left back home. If ever I needed to talk to anyone about anything, I'd just pop into her room and talk. Jo, I'll miss our cab conversations- they're the best! Yes, all the things we do together are definitely going to be missed but most of all, I'll miss you! :(&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Everything seems to be falling into place. This is the point in my life where I can say that I am really enjoying- worry free more or less and certain about the more important things. I haven't felt this way in a long time...although the situation may be a bit strange, I'm trying to feel comfortable in it. But of course, we all know that change is the only constant thing...this state won't last very long. But at least, I got the chance to finally recall what it's like. :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15552865-114338800227808733?l=squinched.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://squinched.blogspot.com/feeds/114338800227808733/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15552865&amp;postID=114338800227808733' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15552865/posts/default/114338800227808733'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15552865/posts/default/114338800227808733'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://squinched.blogspot.com/2006/03/no-change-for-now.html' title='No Change For Now'/><author><name>chocolover</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00344594020092371719</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15552865.post-114279431921852706</id><published>2006-03-20T02:37:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2006-03-20T02:51:59.230+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Goodbye</title><content type='html'>It's all over.  No more waking up in the morning wishing I didn't wake up at all.  No more wondering why.  It's all in the past.  Buried, healed...but never forgotten.  Have I fully let go?  Probably not.  But that's because a part of me will always treasure the memories.  Goodbye to the person I once knew.  Maybe you never really existed at all.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15552865-114279431921852706?l=squinched.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://squinched.blogspot.com/feeds/114279431921852706/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15552865&amp;postID=114279431921852706' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15552865/posts/default/114279431921852706'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15552865/posts/default/114279431921852706'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://squinched.blogspot.com/2006/03/goodbye_20.html' title='Goodbye'/><author><name>chocolover</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00344594020092371719</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15552865.post-114104270529286274</id><published>2006-02-27T19:50:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-02-27T20:18:25.320+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Aussie, Aussie, Aussie....Oi Oi Oi!</title><content type='html'>I'm currently in Sydney, Australia...and I'm loving it!  I like the not so city but city kind of environment.  It's so different from the places I've lived in and the places I've been :)  Guess it gets a place in my Top 5 Countries I'd want to live in.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, we're just wrapping up our 3 week long vacation...more or less done with packing and yes, I've managed to fit all my stuff into my luggage (though I had to sit on it again)!  Done with all the sightseeing...done with picture taking (I used up all the memory in my 256 and 512mb disks)! Shopping? Well, that's something we can never get enough of really.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This trip has been great I must say...lots of ups and downs but overall, I'm glad I had the chance to go through it!  Thanks to my parents for "spoiling us" (quoted from the hotel manager of our ship who happens to be my gym buddy as well) and allowing us to step into the Diamond Princess! :) &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'll let you in on a secret...I've always dreamed of being a performer/entertainer.  You might ask what kind since there are different types of performers- singers, actors, jugglers, comedians, instrumentalists, etc.  Being on this ship just made me relive a childhood dream I've always had...which is to become a dancer. :)  Watching the shows every night made me want to change my career path!  But I guess it's too late...at this age, I can't even do a split.  But yeah...if only I could rewind time, I would have done things differently.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;***pauses for a while***&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Done laughing?  Anyway, tomorrow, we're going for a last minute trip to the zoo!  Yup, saying hi and goodbye to the koalas, kangaroos and kiwis before I go back to Manila, open my email and greet my A-level results...Pray for me? Not just for A-level results...but for the courage to face the animals in the zoo.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15552865-114104270529286274?l=squinched.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://squinched.blogspot.com/feeds/114104270529286274/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15552865&amp;postID=114104270529286274' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15552865/posts/default/114104270529286274'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15552865/posts/default/114104270529286274'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://squinched.blogspot.com/2006/02/aussie-aussie-aussieoi-oi-oi.html' title='Aussie, Aussie, Aussie....Oi Oi Oi!'/><author><name>chocolover</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00344594020092371719</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15552865.post-113973169246240400</id><published>2006-02-12T15:25:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-02-12T16:17:36.086+08:00</updated><title type='text'>I'm OK</title><content type='html'>Hey everyone, it's now 8:27PM in New Zealand but my body clock is still at 3:27PM. Just flew in from Hong Kong this morning.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's been 5 whole days since I left my handphone at home and it feels really weird without it. My dad said that not having a handphone is actually liberating--but in all honesty, I don't think so. It feels really weird not to stay connected. Specially since for the past few days I couldn't really use the internet like I used to. I found out that I had to pay HK$50 for 15 minutes! That's really such a rip off! But it didn't matter anyway since when I go back to the hotel, the business centre's already closed. And now with the time difference, I'd have to wake up at 5AM to be able to catch the people I usually talk to. It seems that I've just been too dependent on handphones and the internet that it's just so hard not to live without them. Wonder how it felt like to live in the stone age. Hmm..But anyway, thanks to the business centre here in our New Zealand hotel! Net free and there's no time limit!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So what have I been doing the past few days in Hong Kong? Aside from eating really good but greasy dimsum and soy chicken, we usually walk all day. At first I thought that shopping won't be that great since most of the stores would still be selling the winter collection. True for most but since there are multiple great shopping places in Hong Kong, it's not hard to find clothes for the not so cold weather. There were lots of stuff on sale! Oh, and do you know the waffle that's shaped like small balls? The ones that you can only find on the sidewalk? I love that! :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, I'm getting really tired and a bit jet lagged.  Getting on board the Diamond Princess tomorrow...pray that it'll be safe?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;"In a perfect world, there would be no pain...there would be no death of innocence, there would be no guilt and no shame. "&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh, in case you were wondering, I didn't go visit Mickey Mouse.  I decided to go shopping instead.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15552865-113973169246240400?l=squinched.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://squinched.blogspot.com/feeds/113973169246240400/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15552865&amp;postID=113973169246240400' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15552865/posts/default/113973169246240400'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15552865/posts/default/113973169246240400'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://squinched.blogspot.com/2006/02/im-ok.html' title='I&apos;m OK'/><author><name>chocolover</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00344594020092371719</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15552865.post-113932822484267040</id><published>2006-02-08T00:00:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-02-08T00:03:44.863+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Goodbye For Now</title><content type='html'>Ok, interesting, that long long long entry got deleted by some unknown power.  Anyway, I'm going away for 3 weeks...I'll update when I get back! Bye!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15552865-113932822484267040?l=squinched.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://squinched.blogspot.com/feeds/113932822484267040/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15552865&amp;postID=113932822484267040' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15552865/posts/default/113932822484267040'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15552865/posts/default/113932822484267040'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://squinched.blogspot.com/2006/02/goodbye-for-now.html' title='Goodbye For Now'/><author><name>chocolover</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00344594020092371719</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15552865.post-113768270130711514</id><published>2006-01-19T22:21:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-01-19T22:58:21.426+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Living on the Edge</title><content type='html'>Obviously I haven't been blogging for the past few weeks.  That's because I've been really really bored here.  Ok, I am having fun...spending time with family and friends...going out and all...but I think there's bound to be something I should be doing!  I was supposed to start working but we're going for a pretty long family vacation in February so it would be kinda useless to start now. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have to admit, I like the feeling of not having to worry about tutorials- not having to wake up to a table with loads to study.  I like being around people- not going home to an empty home.  But I think I've reached the point where I need to get back my space again.  I guess I just need time to think.  I've just been surrounded with too much opinions.  I know it's good to get advice from people who've gone through what I am going through...but sometimes, I think I need to take a huge step back and think about what I really want for myself. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Basically, all I'm saying is that all this extra free time?  It's really driving me nuts.  I thought I'd enjoy 8 full months of not doing anything.  But, NO.  I can't stand it anymore.   I hate living a life of uncertainty.  I don't like it.  It's been making me think of things I don't even have control over.  To sum it all up, I don't like being idle and I don't like not having control.  Sorry to those I've snapped at the past few days...there's just been a lot of things on my mind.  Soon enough, I'll be ok.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15552865-113768270130711514?l=squinched.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://squinched.blogspot.com/feeds/113768270130711514/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15552865&amp;postID=113768270130711514' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15552865/posts/default/113768270130711514'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15552865/posts/default/113768270130711514'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://squinched.blogspot.com/2006/01/living-on-edge.html' title='Living on the Edge'/><author><name>chocolover</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00344594020092371719</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15552865.post-113656715051221027</id><published>2006-01-07T00:11:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-01-07T01:05:50.576+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Music Fortune Teller</title><content type='html'>So here's what I did: I set my iTunes to shuffle mode...and asked the following questions...Here's what Joshua thinks.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;What do you think of me, iTunes?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tell Me How You Feel, Joy Enriquez - &lt;em&gt;All I wanna say is that I want you in my life...Baby I want you but I don't know what to say.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Looks like I have my darling.  Haha.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Will I have a happy life?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Dream Within, Lara Fabian - &lt;em&gt;Free, the dream within...We tremble and spin, suspended within, look beyond where hearts can see. Dream in peace, trust the belief.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;What do my friends really think of me?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It Might Be You, Stephen Bishop - &lt;em&gt;Something's telling me it might be you...yes it's telling me it might be you...all of my life.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Err...really?  I certainly hope not.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;What should I do with my life?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Time of Our Lives, Paul Van Dyke - &lt;em&gt;There's a time for us to let go...there's a time for holding on.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hmmm...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Why must life be so full of pain?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Just Kidding, The Idea of North - &lt;em&gt;You wanna hit me a little where it hurts...It's a game we play.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wanna know my opinion? It's not a fun game at all.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Will I die happy?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I Want You To Know, Chantal Kreviazuk&lt;br /&gt;Hmm...doesn't really make sense to me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Can you give me some advice?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Foolish Games, Jewel&lt;br /&gt;Haha...this one made me laugh!  Are you asking me to play foolish games?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;What is happiness?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;American Woman, Lenny Kravitz - &lt;em&gt;American woman, stay away from me!&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;LOL.  Is Joshua gay or what!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ok it's getting cheesy...enough!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15552865-113656715051221027?l=squinched.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://squinched.blogspot.com/feeds/113656715051221027/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15552865&amp;postID=113656715051221027' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15552865/posts/default/113656715051221027'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15552865/posts/default/113656715051221027'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://squinched.blogspot.com/2006/01/music-fortune-teller.html' title='Music Fortune Teller'/><author><name>chocolover</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00344594020092371719</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15552865.post-113638771484333081</id><published>2006-01-04T22:34:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-01-04T23:18:07.163+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Backaches and Burnt Popcorn</title><content type='html'>Been some time since I last blogged. Been up to a lot of New Year celebrations and stuff so I didn't have much time. Anyway, Happy New Year everyone! Hope it was a great 2005 for you! For me? Well, it was memorable. Looking forward to a new and improved 2006!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Went to Tagaytay with my cousins on the last day of 2005. Had a great time! For those who are not familiar with the place, basically it's just a 2 hour drive from Manila. Lots of restaurants up there...not really the modern kind but more rural and culture-ish. Lots of greenery and not much civilization compared to Manila of course but it's good place to relax and have fun. :) If you wanna see the pictures we took, check out &lt;a href="http://www.ginarella.multiply.com"&gt;ginarella.multiply.com&lt;/a&gt; :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Since we all gain a little bit during the holidays, I decided to take up a sport. My chosen sport is.....boxing! Yes, boxing! It's really fun! There's this thing called the rapid fire where you just gotta box nonstop for like 2 minutes....whoah. Tiring but the feeling of having exercised and having burned all that chocolate cake is great! Well, don't ask what happened the next day. Let's just say, I was half bedridden.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One thing I miss most from Singapore? Popcorn! Everytime I watch a movie, I have to buy popcorn! I remember asking the guy to give me half of each flavor. Well, guess what! There is actually a flavor that's both sweet and salty in one. It's called, kettlecorn. So, my HUGE box from Singapore came back and I got back my stash of DVDs and we all decided we should watch something. What is a movie without a popcorn anyway? So we decided to pop some kettlecorn. After 3 minutes of heating it in the microwave, the whole kitchen smelled awful. Yes, burnt popcorn. Sigh. Guess I've got to fly back to Singapore to get back my popcorn! Movies, anyone?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15552865-113638771484333081?l=squinched.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://squinched.blogspot.com/feeds/113638771484333081/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15552865&amp;postID=113638771484333081' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15552865/posts/default/113638771484333081'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15552865/posts/default/113638771484333081'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://squinched.blogspot.com/2006/01/backaches-and-burnt-popcorn.html' title='Backaches and Burnt Popcorn'/><author><name>chocolover</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00344594020092371719</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15552865.post-113553495023298066</id><published>2005-12-26T01:05:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-12-26T02:22:30.313+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Random Thoughts Once Again</title><content type='html'>Christmas...a season of love, isn't it?  But why is it that when I look around, I see images of hatred, deception and sadness.  Behind that smile is actually a heart that cries.  Yes...the celebration continues.  But inside, there's just this nagging feeling of discontentment and melancholy.  Guess it is the time of the year where we can actually reflect on what has happened in the year that's just about to end.  No work, no school...just time with your friends, family and of course, time with yourself.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;People have come to me and shared their recent experiences, those which I am not exactly unfamiliar with.  It kind of transported me back to the time when I myself was experiencing it.  Surprisingly, the pain is still familiar.  It wasn't like before when I used to just forget about the pain to the point that it seemed like I didn't even have to go through it at all.  I guess this time around, it scarred me too deeply I can't seem to forget it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Actually, it's kind of surreal still.  Like it happened in a different universe with people who I don't even know anymore.  Kind of like I thought I knew who they were but actually, they were just mere ideas of what the person is like.  They didn't actually exist and thus, deeming the friendship a lie and the person a figment of my imagination.  Funny how we can conjure things up to hurt ourselves in return. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yes, fooling your own self sounds pathetic.  But I guess there is still something sadder than that...fooling yourself and not realizing you're doing it.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15552865-113553495023298066?l=squinched.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://squinched.blogspot.com/feeds/113553495023298066/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15552865&amp;postID=113553495023298066' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15552865/posts/default/113553495023298066'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15552865/posts/default/113553495023298066'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://squinched.blogspot.com/2005/12/random-thoughts-once-again.html' title='Random Thoughts Once Again'/><author><name>chocolover</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00344594020092371719</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15552865.post-113547736946743995</id><published>2005-12-25T10:12:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-12-25T10:23:38.410+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Indeed</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;The brooding ghosts of Australian night have gone from the bush and town;&lt;br /&gt;My spirit revives in the morning breeze,&lt;br /&gt;though it died when the sun went down;&lt;br /&gt;The river is high and the stream is strong,&lt;br /&gt;and the grass is green and tall,&lt;br /&gt;And I fain would think that this world of ours is a good world after all.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The light of passion in dreamy eyes, and a page of truth well read,&lt;br /&gt;The glorious thrill in a heart grown cold of the spirit I thought was dead,&lt;br /&gt;A song that goes to a comrade's heart, and a tear of pride let fall --&lt;br /&gt;And my soul is strong! and the world to me is a grand world after all!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Let our enemies go by their old dull tracks,&lt;br /&gt;and theirs be the fault or shame&lt;br /&gt;(The man is bitter against the world who has only himself to blame);&lt;br /&gt;Let the darkest side of the past be dark, and only the good recall;&lt;br /&gt;For I must believe that the world, my dear, is a kind world after all.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It well may be that I saw too plain, and it may be I was blind;&lt;br /&gt;But I'll keep my face to the dawning light,&lt;br /&gt;though the devil may stand behind!&lt;br /&gt;Though the devil may stand behind my back, I'll not see his shadow fall,&lt;br /&gt;But read the signs in the morning stars of a good world after all.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Rest, for your eyes are weary, girl -- you have driven the worst away --&lt;br /&gt;The ghost of the man that I might have been is gone from my heart to-day;&lt;br /&gt;We'll live for life and the best it brings till our twilight shadows fall;&lt;br /&gt;My heart grows brave, and the world, my girl, is a good world after all.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15552865-113547736946743995?l=squinched.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://squinched.blogspot.com/feeds/113547736946743995/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15552865&amp;postID=113547736946743995' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15552865/posts/default/113547736946743995'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15552865/posts/default/113547736946743995'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://squinched.blogspot.com/2005/12/indeed.html' title='Indeed'/><author><name>chocolover</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00344594020092371719</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15552865.post-113536074395463352</id><published>2005-12-24T01:20:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-12-24T01:59:05.496+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Christmas...So Far</title><content type='html'>So far, I've attended 6 parties in 8 days. Talk about the calories, man. One thing all parties have: lechon (roasted pig). It's really good but on the 3rd party, I stopped eating it. Each day, there's a different dessert that I'd want to try. I just can't resist sweets! Oh well, what to do. Still more parties to come. I guess what I like about these parties is actually the road trip home. There's this strip of road in Greenhills called Gilmore. When you pass by, all you will see is this:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6382/1443/1600/CIMG0458.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6382/1443/320/CIMG0458.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;As in both sides of the street. Just lights.  It's just wonderful.  :)  (Yes, my photo is not very clear but you get the idea right? Sorry I was just taking it from inside the car)&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Anyway, every night is a night with my relatives...which equates to a bunch of hustlers.  One room, parents playing mahjong.  Another room, their kids playing cards.  Ok, don't get scared...we're just doing it for fun...no big money involved.  Just loads of fun.  Wish I could invite more people to come and see what Christmas here is like... :) Hopefully, next time.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;TO MY BESTFRIEND:  Know that I love you so much.. :)  I promise you that there is still a reason to rejoice this season... :) hug!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15552865-113536074395463352?l=squinched.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://squinched.blogspot.com/feeds/113536074395463352/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15552865&amp;postID=113536074395463352' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15552865/posts/default/113536074395463352'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15552865/posts/default/113536074395463352'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://squinched.blogspot.com/2005/12/christmasso-far.html' title='Christmas...So Far'/><author><name>chocolover</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00344594020092371719</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15552865.post-113501269700116188</id><published>2005-12-20T00:15:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-12-20T10:38:58.103+08:00</updated><title type='text'>What a Day!</title><content type='html'>I'm about to collapse soon but I really gotta blog today cause I thought that today was quite fun. :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To start off, I went to this mall in the morning. You see, if I'm sleepy, I become an impulse buyer. So I walked into Adidas and saw this nice white jacket with red stripes. Haha I tried it on and quickly bought it. I mean, it's not that I need a jacket...it's not that I don't have a jacket...but I just had to buy it. I'm starting to think that maybe I am a shoppaholic and I need some rehabilitation. Well come to think of it, I didn't regret getting it so I guess it's not such a bad case of impulse buying.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After that, I went for my second driving lessons. I was taught how to drive in uphills and downhills. I was also taught how to do a U-turn, 2-point turn, 3-point turn, park (the normal way), get out of the parking space, and of course parallel park. I passed everything according to his evaluation...but he had one comment...I had to learn how to drive more safely...I think he meant I was too aggressive. What?! Ok fine...I admit I was a bit impatient. But hey, I'm still alive and the car didn't have a single mark on it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, after that, I went for our annual office party. It was hilarious! It was the usual party- games, food, performances, speeches, lucky draw...but the games were hilarious. The first one was...I dunno what it was called...but basically, a couple from each division of the office would come up on stage. Each couple will be given a set of stickers and they are supposed to stick it on the part of the body that starts with P or T (guy sticks on girl and girl sticks on guy). At the end of 15 seconds, the pair with the most stickers stuck on the various body parts will win. So the usual...people stuck it on the palm, thighs, puwit (which is butt in Tagalog), toes, etc. What amazed me was this pair who was really creative! One part they mentioned was the private part. Whoa.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So we had dinner and all...dinner wasn't fantastic but it was followed by another silly game. The game was evolved from musical chairs. But this one doesnt involve chairs. Basically, the men will form a circle facing outwards. They all have plastic bottles in between their thighs. The ladies will have to dance around the guys in a circle and when the music stops, they've got to grab the bottle. The person who doesn't have a bottle to grab will be thrown out of the game. So the number of people reduces until there is only one guy left with two girls going for the bottle. Haha...it was just hilarious! You should've seen the last guy's face. He was so scared I think he broke into cold sweat!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And yes, I mentioned that dinner wasn't fantastic. We didn't even have dessert. So I had to run to the neighboring restaurant to buy dessert. While waiting for my dessert to come, I had to go to the toilet (they only had one cubicle by the way, so both guys and girls use the same one). It was locked. Suddenly, this hot Filipino superstar came out topless. I'm not kidding! I said he was hot cause everyone thinks he's hot but I don't really think so. Anyway, he is Piolo Pascual... this commercial model/TV host/actor who's supposed to really rock your socks off but err..nah. Apparently he's got some event at the same area that night and he's using my dessert restaurant as his changing room. I gotta admit he's quite nice though. Not at all the I'm-so-hot-so-get-out-of-my-way. He was very apologetic when we saw me. Oh and did I mention he was quite...dense? He locked the toilet door on his way out. Bah.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This was followed by the part where each division of the office will come up with a certain presentation to entertain us. My parents were supposed to be judges but they passed the authority to me. Hihihi. It was a good show though. Since the theme of the party was 70's, a lot of them brought back the "in" thing during that time...We had people imitating Michael Jackson's big hair and also John Travolta's dance moves. We had a good laugh! But I would say, my favorite performance was my brother's. For the first time, he sang! I thought he was really cute. Oh, I forgot to mention, he played the guitar too.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I guess what really made my day was my SAT score! I mean...it's not all that fantastic but it's higher than I expected. :) Guess now, I have no excuse not to apply to the States...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ok, gotta crash now...more driving tomorrow!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15552865-113501269700116188?l=squinched.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://squinched.blogspot.com/feeds/113501269700116188/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15552865&amp;postID=113501269700116188' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15552865/posts/default/113501269700116188'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15552865/posts/default/113501269700116188'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://squinched.blogspot.com/2005/12/what-day.html' title='What a Day!'/><author><name>chocolover</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00344594020092371719</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15552865.post-113482246005272865</id><published>2005-12-17T20:11:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-12-17T20:43:36.376+08:00</updated><title type='text'>My First Day on the Road</title><content type='html'>I'm home alone with my nephew Nico- teaching him how to sharpen a pencil and write his name. He's really sweet! After I sharpened his pencils, he said: "Thanks A-Ee!" and then he kept on kissing me. I felt so happy to have him (and to think he's not even my real son)! Anyway, I'm supposed to be taking care of him but while he's busy sticking sponge bob stickers everywhere, I shall just blog.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today was my first time to drive out in the streets. I guess it's just now that I fully understand what they meant by: If you know how to drive in Manila, you can drive anywhere! Let me just describe to you how it is to drive in Manila streets. My instructor asked me to drive in the middle lane after I turn left and so I went to the position that seemed like the middle lane to me. When I looked down on the road, I realized that there was a white painted line (which meant that I was actually travelling in between lanes) so I was like: "Am I in the wrong lane???" And my instructor goes: "Don't worry, those lines are fake!" Ok...nevermind. After that, my instructor brought me to a place without traffic lights- this means that I had to be super alert. Suddenly, a tricycle counterflows! My initial reaction was to move away from the tricycle but of course I can't cause there's a car parked on the road side and if I move away from the tricycle, I'll bump into the parked car. So my instructor told me: "There are two things you have to be aware of- moving and non-moving objects. If it's not moving, you've got to move away from it. If it's moving, don't bother to look after it because it will look after itself." Well, so much for defensive driving! I think it's a bit impossible to do that here. So we approached an intersection. The trick is to move inch by inch until the other cars can't move anymore and you leave them no choice but to let you pass. It's really scary cause out of nowhere, you'll just see a jeepney or a bus drive towards you. After that I had to turn right (yup, still no traffic light), suddenly there are kids playing basketball on the road! After honking on them like 10 times, they still didn't move! My instructor told me to just go and they'll move away. I've got the car, they definitely have to move away! I was scared at first but yeah I just went ahead and yeah, they moved.  Silly boys.  At the end of the day, I learned that you just gotta whack!  More lessons to come next week!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ok, Nico is fighting for the computer now.  I gotta go before he clicks this whole entry away!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;P.S.  Wanna join me for a ride? :p&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15552865-113482246005272865?l=squinched.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://squinched.blogspot.com/feeds/113482246005272865/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15552865&amp;postID=113482246005272865' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15552865/posts/default/113482246005272865'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15552865/posts/default/113482246005272865'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://squinched.blogspot.com/2005/12/my-first-day-on-road.html' title='My First Day on the Road'/><author><name>chocolover</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00344594020092371719</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15552865.post-113474921758705186</id><published>2005-12-16T23:41:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-12-17T00:07:40.510+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Forgiveness</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#666666;"&gt;"Forgiveness is almost a selfish act because of its immense benefits to the one who forgives." -Lawana Blackwell-&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#666666;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;color:#000000;"&gt;I was discussing this topic with a friend and it was a huge realization for me. I don't know about you but I've always thought that forgiveness is something that other people would have to earn. I thought that if I forgave someone because of something he did, he should be really happy that I actually forgave him. But actually, that's not the way it works. Forgiveness is not for the other person...it's actually for myself. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;Forgiveness is a choice, not a feeling. If we wait for the urge to forgive, it will never come. We have to choose to forgive and the feelings will follow later on. Why do we have to choose to forgive? Cause if we don't, we will be taken over by bitterness...and this will hinder us from seeing the bigger picture.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;It doesn't matter how difficult it may seem...it doesn't matter how long it takes. All we've got to do is to choose to forgive no matter how painful it is. After all, we're not doing it for anybody else except ourselves.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15552865-113474921758705186?l=squinched.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://squinched.blogspot.com/feeds/113474921758705186/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15552865&amp;postID=113474921758705186' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15552865/posts/default/113474921758705186'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15552865/posts/default/113474921758705186'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://squinched.blogspot.com/2005/12/forgiveness.html' title='Forgiveness'/><author><name>chocolover</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00344594020092371719</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15552865.post-113474744994647866</id><published>2005-12-16T23:19:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-12-16T23:37:29.963+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Where Is My Room?</title><content type='html'>Just got home...I'm really exhausted.  Well just a bit of update: my hair is now shorter, a lot shorter and I've got red highlights...which aren't really very visible unless I'm under the sun.  I decided against the curls cause my hairdresser (Victor) says that I'll look like a Japanese.  Fine.  Drop the idea then.  Next update: My internet is SO screwed up.  Since this house is made of cement, the signal just can't go through.  Guess wireless technology isn't such a great idea.  I've got to wait for the guy to come and poke a hole through my ceiling so that I can get a wired internet connection.  More update:  I am starting my first driving lesson tomorrow!  It's gonna last two hours long.  Wow.  Hope the instructor has a lot of patience!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I realized that I kind of feel lost in this house.  I sleep in my room but I don't get the privacy that I used to have.  My sister (Karen), her new baby and the baby's nanny sleeps there with me.  Basically, I am only in my room when I need to sleep.  Since Nyles has a lot of stuff: bottle warmer, tub, bottles, thermos, etc...I can't use my bathroom.  So, I have to travel to the next room (Karen's real room) to use her toilet.  Her room has been converted into a store room ever since she moved to Canada and so it's not really "livable".  Anyway, my desk is also filled with baby stuff so I can't even use my computer in my own room.  So, my computer is also in Karen's room.  I thought I'd get some privacy there...but no.  My yaya sleeps there (Yaya is my nanny who's been with us for 35 years...).  So, for my quiet time, I have to march down to our living room for it.  Anyway, that's the way it'll be for now.  I miss my own room!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15552865-113474744994647866?l=squinched.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://squinched.blogspot.com/feeds/113474744994647866/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15552865&amp;postID=113474744994647866' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15552865/posts/default/113474744994647866'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15552865/posts/default/113474744994647866'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://squinched.blogspot.com/2005/12/where-is-my-room.html' title='Where Is My Room?'/><author><name>chocolover</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00344594020092371719</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15552865.post-113440247407346739</id><published>2005-12-12T22:52:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-12-12T23:47:54.110+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Home</title><content type='html'>Woah.  It's been a while since I last updated...been really busy back home- well, more of busy catching up with friends and family.  Let's see...what have I been up to?  Mostly helping my mom...shop.  That's why this is my most favourite time of the year...I can really be helpful by shopping for my mom!  You see, she's got tons and tons of godchildren and friends and stuff...so I'm her personal shopper.  The best job ever.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Apart from that...I've done a couple of chores too.  I've gotten our 12 year old piano tuned, applied for student driver's license (hey, it's quite tough...gotta apply for some TIN thingy) and taken care of my nephews!  I've also managed to get myself piano lessons...since I haven't touched a piano for more than four years now...and I really wanna learn again.  I might get guitar lessons too.  I'm trying to drag myself to the gym but I'm just being really lazy... though I know I need it.  This year, we're having loads of Christmas parties...18th, 19th, 20th, 22nd, 24th and 31st.  Whoa.  Talk about getting fat! (Christmas is coming....the girls are getting fat.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But despite the bright Christmas lights everywhere, the busy schedule I have to follow...I still miss Singapore.  I really do think about it a lot...my friends...and a lot of other more serious stuff which I'll probably blog about soon.  I'm really in no mood to feel sentimental.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, I'm going to the parlor tomorrow...thinking of either cutting my hair or getting curls...hmmm...suggestions anyone?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15552865-113440247407346739?l=squinched.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://squinched.blogspot.com/feeds/113440247407346739/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15552865&amp;postID=113440247407346739' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15552865/posts/default/113440247407346739'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15552865/posts/default/113440247407346739'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://squinched.blogspot.com/2005/12/home.html' title='Home'/><author><name>chocolover</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00344594020092371719</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15552865.post-113371772052338883</id><published>2005-12-05T00:53:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-12-05T01:35:20.650+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Nostalgia</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Whew!  I never really thought that post-exam period would be as stressful as exam period...except this one is a different kind of stress.  Kind of like fun stress- you know, shopping every single day trying to look for prom dress and the perfect Christmas present for everyone...making sure it's not too expensive and yet useful and meaningful...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;I guess in a way, keeping myself busy is good (apart from me getting sick cause I've been going out too much and not really getting much sleep)- then I don't really have to think about the fact that I'm going back home for almost 5 months and that things will just be so different when I come back here.  Jo will be in Melbourne...Albert may or may not be here anymore...Lianglin and Ernest will be in the army... It's really ironic... I never thought I'd ever say this, but here it goes: I will miss Singapore very very much.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;But even though I may have been really busy...thoughts about leaving this place can't completely escape my thoughts.  Somehow, it just manages to creep into my mind.  As much as I want to avoid thinking about it, I just can't.  I guess the idea of not knowing what's up next for me scares me quite a bit.  It's not so much about not knowing which university I'll be going to...but more of leaving the people I really care for and not knowing when I'll see them again...I will definitely see them individually...but it won't really be the same anymore.  Like just now, a few of us were preparing for a BBQ we're having tomorrow...and I just found myself looking at them from one corner and wondering when we all can spend time together again...as a group of people who became close because of a common passion.  Just thinking about all the great times we've spent together...Wow.  I can't even find the right words to express how much they mean to me.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;I guess I'm just really tired of change.  I'm not really a person who trusts and it just sucks when you find a group of people whom you can trust but then suddenly, things just have to change.  Same thing happened when I left for Singapore...and now, it's happening all over again.  Although I am looking forward to spending good time with my family and friends back home, I'm having mixed feelings about it cause I'll be leaving my family here.  Oh well, guess life is just like that- nothing is constant.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15552865-113371772052338883?l=squinched.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://squinched.blogspot.com/feeds/113371772052338883/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15552865&amp;postID=113371772052338883' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15552865/posts/default/113371772052338883'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15552865/posts/default/113371772052338883'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://squinched.blogspot.com/2005/12/nostalgia.html' title='Nostalgia'/><author><name>chocolover</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00344594020092371719</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15552865.post-113250345708405809</id><published>2005-11-20T23:41:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-11-21T00:17:37.120+08:00</updated><title type='text'>A Different Perspective</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Have you ever seen yourself in someone else?  As in maybe a situation, or a trait of that person that totally reminds you of yourself?  Well, lately I think I've been seeing a lot of that in my friend's friend.  I haven't really met her yet but from the way my friend talks about her...It's just so me.  I don't know if it's a common characteristic among ladies or it's just me.  But I don't like what I see.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Maybe it's just the situation that made me feel that way.  It doesn't mean that she's completely a bad person...but maybe it's because I'm seeing my friend suffer...I'm seeing him hurt...that's why I hate it and in the process I begin to question why I'm kind of like that too.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;I concede.  It's a known fact that men are from Mars and women are from Venus.  But as I try to explain to my friend my side of the story...or why I think that his friend is acting in that manner, I realize that we &lt;em&gt;are &lt;/em&gt;complicated.  And I guess mostly it's because most women are very emotional.  Since emotions can be influenced by so many factors, it becomes so complicated.  So I guess that sometimes, we just can't help it.  Not that I'm succumbing to nature...guess if we really wanted to change...we can.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15552865-113250345708405809?l=squinched.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://squinched.blogspot.com/feeds/113250345708405809/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15552865&amp;postID=113250345708405809' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15552865/posts/default/113250345708405809'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15552865/posts/default/113250345708405809'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://squinched.blogspot.com/2005/11/different-perspective.html' title='A Different Perspective'/><author><name>chocolover</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00344594020092371719</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15552865.post-113205330307885454</id><published>2005-11-15T19:11:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-11-21T00:20:12.816+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Welcome to the Family</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;NYLES KEVIN was born today at around 0230. Seven pounds and eleven ounces, he's a strong, chubby little boy who's very lucky to have me as his aunt. Heh. Just kidding. Just imagining what it would be like with four little boys running around our house now. Yipes! Really can't wait to meet him. Tomorrow, I'm going to go get something for him...any suggestions?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15552865-113205330307885454?l=squinched.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://squinched.blogspot.com/feeds/113205330307885454/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15552865&amp;postID=113205330307885454' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15552865/posts/default/113205330307885454'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15552865/posts/default/113205330307885454'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://squinched.blogspot.com/2005/11/welcome-to-family.html' title='Welcome to the Family'/><author><name>chocolover</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00344594020092371719</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15552865.post-113189267442195932</id><published>2005-11-13T22:31:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-11-13T22:39:44.920+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Just Slackin'</title><content type='html'>Five papers down, seven more to go. Somehow, I'm losing the urgency to study. Oh well, maybe it's because it's an afternoon paper tomorrow. Anyway, I'm kinda worried. I've been having trouble breathing these past few weeks...and I really don't know why. Hope it's nothing serious. Ok, I seriously need to get back to studying. I'll update as soon as I'm semi-free. :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15552865-113189267442195932?l=squinched.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://squinched.blogspot.com/feeds/113189267442195932/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15552865&amp;postID=113189267442195932' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15552865/posts/default/113189267442195932'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15552865/posts/default/113189267442195932'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://squinched.blogspot.com/2005/11/just-slackin.html' title='Just Slackin&apos;'/><author><name>chocolover</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00344594020092371719</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15552865.post-113170133220257974</id><published>2005-11-11T17:27:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-11-11T17:29:39.760+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Invictus</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Out of the night that covers me,&lt;br /&gt;Black as the Pit from pole to pole,&lt;br /&gt;I thank whatever gods may be&lt;br /&gt;For my unconquerable soul.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a name="4"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;In the fell clutch of circumstance&lt;br /&gt;I have not winced nor cried aloud.&lt;br /&gt;Under the bludgeonings of chance&lt;br /&gt;My head is bloody, but unbowed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a name="8"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Beyond this place of wrath and tears&lt;br /&gt;Looms but the Horror of the shade,&lt;br /&gt;And yet the menace of the years&lt;br /&gt;Finds, and shall find, me unafraid.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It matters not how strait the gate,&lt;br /&gt;How charged with punishments the scroll,&lt;br /&gt;I am the master of my fate:&lt;br /&gt;I am the captain of my soul.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;-William Ernest Henley-&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15552865-113170133220257974?l=squinched.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://squinched.blogspot.com/feeds/113170133220257974/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15552865&amp;postID=113170133220257974' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15552865/posts/default/113170133220257974'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15552865/posts/default/113170133220257974'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://squinched.blogspot.com/2005/11/invictus.html' title='Invictus'/><author><name>chocolover</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00344594020092371719</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15552865.post-113146565413439245</id><published>2005-11-08T23:36:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-11-09T00:00:54.156+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Finding an Excuse Not to Study</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Ok, I really really don't have the brains to study now...I think I lost it all during math today.  It was good, but exhausting.  Haha...But then, I don't really feel like sleeping yet because I'll feel so unproductive...So here's my excuse:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;10 YEARS AGO I...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;-went on an Eastern Mediterranean Cruise.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;-was super scrawny.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;-loved dancing so much.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;-experienced the greatest tragedy in my life.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;-was fond of our cat named Clovia and our dog named Mitsu.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;5 YEARS AGO I...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;-was part of a musical called "True Love Waits".&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;-was a part of Echoettes Young Voices.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;-went on a Western Mediterranean Cruise and had a crush on one of the performers.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;-was studying so hard to get my scholarship.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;-was so sad because the sister closest to me got married.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;1 YEAR AGO I...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;-moved out of boarding school.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;-experienced a snowy Christmas.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;-had my heart broken for the first time.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;-realized that singing is something I could do the rest of my life.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;-felt like a princess thrown out of my castle.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;YESTERDAY I...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;-was excited that my exams are starting!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;-studied in school the whole day.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;-spent my day with numbers.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;-learned how to play the first part of "I'd Give My Life for You".&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;-took a bus to Holland Village.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;5 SNACKS I ENJOY...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;-bread with butter and sugar.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;-chocolates.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;-waffle with ice cream.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;-cereals.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;-hmm...sun chips!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;5 SONGS I KNOW ALL THE WORDS...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;-All the songs from Miss Saigon!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;-Angel in Disguise by Corrinne May&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;-Err...do christmas carols and choir songs count?  (except gaelic blessing...i keep forgetting)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;-Love Moves (in Mysterious Ways) by MYMP&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;-Tattooed on my Mind by D' Sound&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;5 THINGS I WOULD DO WITH A MILLION DOLLARS...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;-buy a beach house.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;-pay back my parents for all my nonesense.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;-hmm...buy my ipod video! haha :)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;-donate some to charity. :)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;-can't think of anything more...maybe i'll save it!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;5 PLACES I WOULD RUN AWAY TO...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;-Sentosa Beach (yes I'd do that...)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;-New York&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;-I'd want to go to the Colliseum again..&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;-Canada&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;-Santorini, Greece&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;5 THINGS I WOULD NEVER WEAR...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;-anything with leather&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;-anything with fur&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;-anything velvet&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;-leggings&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;-hmmm what else??&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;5 FAVOURITE TV SHOWS...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;-Alias&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;-Everwood&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;-Grey's Anatomy&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;-Desperate Housewives&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;-One Tree Hill&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;5 BAD HABITS...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;-procrastinating&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;-pulling my hair&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;-not doing my laundry&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;-snoozing my alarm clock&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;-not finishing my food&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;5 BIGGEST JOYS...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;-being with my nephews&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;-shopping&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;-singing...singing...singing....&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;-travelling&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;-oh have i mentioned shopping?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;5 FICTIONAL CHARACTERS I WOULD DATE...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;-Michael Vaughn...if he were still alive!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;-I'm really loyal so I only have him on my list... :)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Ok, back to studying!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15552865-113146565413439245?l=squinched.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://squinched.blogspot.com/feeds/113146565413439245/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15552865&amp;postID=113146565413439245' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15552865/posts/default/113146565413439245'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15552865/posts/default/113146565413439245'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://squinched.blogspot.com/2005/11/finding-excuse-not-to-study.html' title='Finding an Excuse Not to Study'/><author><name>chocolover</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00344594020092371719</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15552865.post-113111319641689394</id><published>2005-11-04T21:46:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-11-06T00:36:53.136+08:00</updated><title type='text'>My Little Darling</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6382/1443/1600/CIMG0153.jpg"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6382/1443/320/CIMG0153.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Daven turned 5 today. Gosh I can't believe how fast time flies...I remember how I used to feed him when he was just a few months old and now he's asking me to buy him Hot Wheels! Oh well, I really miss my little darling.. :) Counting the days 'til I go back home...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15552865-113111319641689394?l=squinched.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://squinched.blogspot.com/feeds/113111319641689394/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15552865&amp;postID=113111319641689394' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15552865/posts/default/113111319641689394'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15552865/posts/default/113111319641689394'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://squinched.blogspot.com/2005/11/my-little-darling.html' title='My Little Darling'/><author><name>chocolover</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00344594020092371719</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15552865.post-113086379671414645</id><published>2005-11-02T00:21:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-11-02T00:49:56.750+08:00</updated><title type='text'>I'm Only Human</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;It's been a really long time since I've spent time with the people closest to me- my family, my friends, my cousins...and it just scares me how I've changed and how much they don't know me anymore.  Most of the time, I find myself frustrated with their reactions.  Well, I've changed.  It's not that I wanted to, it's just the way it is.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;People often think of me as the person I was four years ago.  I wouldn't blame them...those images were the last of me they'd ever seen.  Of course they'll expect to see those right?  But what they don't know are the things experiences I've gone through while I've been away.  How these things have shaped who I am now and how these challenges have changed my perspective on life.  I've talked to them about my day to day experiences but it's not that simple to understand.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Sometimes I ask myself, have I really changed for the better?  Honestly, I don't know.  All I know is that, I'm different in the sense that now, I feel more.  No more I'm-the-king-of-the-world illusions.  I'm only human.  I make mistakes and I'm not as strong as you think I am.  Now that I'm in this stage of my life when I really need your support, please don't shun me away and tell me that I can do it like I've done before.  It kills me even more that you expect me to be who I was before when right now, I'm really struggling.  Please hear me out.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15552865-113086379671414645?l=squinched.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://squinched.blogspot.com/feeds/113086379671414645/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15552865&amp;postID=113086379671414645' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15552865/posts/default/113086379671414645'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15552865/posts/default/113086379671414645'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://squinched.blogspot.com/2005/11/im-only-human.html' title='I&apos;m Only Human'/><author><name>chocolover</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00344594020092371719</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15552865.post-113077173785271793</id><published>2005-10-31T23:10:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-10-31T23:17:00.603+08:00</updated><title type='text'>A Sad Story...</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;It all started when I was 16 years old. While I was playing outside on my farm in California, I met a boy. He was an average kind of boy who teased you and then you chased them and beat them up. After that first meeting in which I beat him up we kept on meeting and beating each other up at the fence.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That only lasted for a little while though. We would meet at the fence all the time and we were always together. I would tell him all my secrets. He was very quiet he would just listen to what I had to say. I found him easy to talk to and I could talk to him about everything. In school we had separate friends but when we got home we would always talk about what happened in school.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One day I said to him that a guy I liked hurt me and broke my heart. He just comforted me and said everything would be okay. He gave me words of encouragement and helped me get over him. I was happy and thought of him as a real friend. But I knew that there was something else about him that I liked. I thought of it that night and figured it was just a "friend" kinda thing that I was feeling. All through high school and even through graduation we're always together and of course I thought of it as being friends. But I knew deep inside that I really felt differently.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On graduation night even though we had different dates to the prom I wanted to be with him. That night after everybody went home, I went to his house and wanted to tell him that I wanted to see him. Well, that night was my big chance and all I did was just sit there with him watching the stars and talking about what I was going to do and what he was going to do. I looked into his eyes and listened to him talk about what his dream was. How he wanted to get married and settle down. He said how he wanted to be rich and successful. All I could do was to tell him my dream and cuddle next to him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I went home hurting because I didn't tell him how I was feeling. I wanted to tell him so bad that I loved him but I was too scared and frightened. I let my feelings go and told myself that someday I would tell him just how I felt.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All through college I wanted to tell him but he always had someone with him. After graduation he got a job in New York; I was happy for him but at the same time I was sad to see him go. I was sad also because I didn't tell him how I felt. But I couldn't let him know now that he was leaving for his big job. So I just kept it to myself and watched him go on the plane. I cried as I hugged him for what I felt was going to be the last time. I felt hurt that I didn't tell him what I had inside my heart.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One day I got a letter with an invitation to a wedding. It was from him; I was happy and sad at the same time. Now I know that I could never be with him and that we could only be friends.I went to the wedding the next month. It was a big occasion. It was a big church wedding with the reception at a hotel. I met the bride and of course I talked to him too. I fell in love one more time. But I held back so it wouldn't spoil what should be the happiest day in his life. I tried to have fun that night but it was killing me inside watching him being so happy and me trying to be happy covering up my sadness tears inside of me. I left New York feeling that I did the right thing. Before I left on the flight, he came running out of nowhere and said his good-byes and how he was very happy to see me. I came home and just tried to forget about what went on in New York. I had to go on with my life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As the years went on, we wrote to each other on what was going on and how he had missed talking to me. On one occasion he never wrote back to me at all. I was getting worried as to why he hadn't written anything for a long time after I had already written six letters to him.Well, just when everything seemed hopeless and sad in my life, I got a note that said: "Meet me at the fence where we used to talk about things". I went and saw him there. I was happy to see him, but he was brokenhearted and sad inside. We hugged until we couldn't breathe anymore. Then he told me about the divorce and why he hadn't written for a long time. He cried until he couldn't cry anymore. Finally, we went back to the house and talked and laughed about what I had been doing and to catch up on old times. But in all of this, I couldn't tell him how I felt about him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In the days that followed, he had fun and forgot about all his problem and his divorce. I fell in love again with him. When it came time for him to leave back to New York, I went to see him off and cried. I hated to see him leave. He promised to see me every time he could get a vacation. I couldn't wait for him to come so I could be with him. We would always have fun when we were together.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One day he didn't show up like he said he would. I figured that he might have been busy. The days turned into months and I just forgot about it. Then I got a call one day from a lawyer in New York. The lawyer said that he had died in a car accident going to the airport, and that it took this long till everything was settled.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It broke my heart. I was shocked about what took place. Now I knew why he didn't come that day. Again, I was brokenhearted. I cried that night, cried tears of sadness and heartache. I asked questions: "Why did this happen to a kind guy like him?"I gathered my things and went to New York for the reading of his will. Of course, things were given to his family and his ex-wife. I finally got to meet her since the last time we met at the wedding. She explained to me how he was and how he always provided. But he was always unhappy. She would always try everything but she couldn't get him happy, as he was that night at their wedding.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When the will was read, the one thing that was given to me was a diary. It was a dairy that of his life. I cried as it was given to me. I didn't know what to think. Why was this given to me? I took it and flew back to California.As I flew on the plane I remembered the good times that we had together. I started reading the diary and what was written. The diary was started with the day we first met. I read on till I started to cry. The diary told of him saying that he had fallen in love with me that day I was broken-hearted. But he was too afraid to tell me what he had felt. That is why he was so quiet and liked to listen to me. It told of how he wanted to tell me so many times, but was too afraid to say anything. It told of when he went to New York and fell in love with another. How the happiest time he had was seeing me and dancing with me at the wedding. He said he imagined it was our wedding. How he was always unhappy till he had no choice but to divorce his wife. How the best time in his life was to read the letters written to him by me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Finally, the diary ended when it said, "today I will tell her I love her". It was the day he was killed. The day I was going to finally find out what was really in his heart.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15552865-113077173785271793?l=squinched.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://squinched.blogspot.com/feeds/113077173785271793/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15552865&amp;postID=113077173785271793' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15552865/posts/default/113077173785271793'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15552865/posts/default/113077173785271793'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://squinched.blogspot.com/2005/10/sad-story.html' title='A Sad Story...'/><author><name>chocolover</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00344594020092371719</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15552865.post-113024723426052385</id><published>2005-10-25T20:46:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-10-25T21:37:41.980+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Daddy's Girl</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;So I just got off the phone with my dad. Now I'm feeling guilty again. Well to begin with, I wasn't exactly having a great day, I woke up today with a HUGE headache and I just couldn't get anything much done. Then my dad calls and asked me how I was. My usual reply, "I'm ok". Then he said, "Don't be so stressed ok? I think you should just go back home for university because we get so worried about you when you're far away. And we miss you loads." But of course to me, it just sounded like: Go to Ateneo or La Salle! Goodbye choir! Dreaming of going overseas? Don't even think about it! If that's the case, why am I even working so hard for the A's?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I got defensive and very uncalmly I said, "NO WAY! I've been here for four long years already, what's the point of going back?? If that's what you really wanted for me, you should have told me that two years ago so I didn't have to go through all these!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Well, we didn't miss you very much two years ago."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"That's not the point! There is NO WAY I'm going back home after everything I've been through!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Of course, immediately after screaming at him, I thought to myself: NO NO NO NO NO...you did it again. You are such a disrespectful little brat!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So my dad didn't say anything about it and just asked how my day was...So I told him about my headache and my studying and all...and he told me to just count the days before I could go back...which is what I usually did. He asked me to think about the places I wanna go to during my break and we'll go where I want to go.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After that conversation, I really felt so bad because after thinking it through again, I realized that he only said what he said because 1: He was worried about me. 2: He misses me. And I realized how selfish I was the whole time. But then, when do you draw the line between selfishness and knowing what you really deserve? I mean, I want a better education...don't I deserve that? But then, staying overseas would mean that I'll be away and they'll have to keep working so I can get the life I want...isn't that being selfish?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The more I think about it, the more I realize how much I miss my dad...I know it's not really related to the whole selfish point but it made me think a lot about what we used to do when I was still back home... I miss the times when he'd wake me up every Sunday morning to go get breakfast together. I still remember how we'd go to those little photo taking booths afterwards and just take silly shots. I miss the times when we used to swim together-pool or bathtub- and he'd carry me to the deep end of the pool cause I was so scared. I miss the times he took me shopping...he'd just sit on one corner and point at the pretty little dresses for me to try on. I miss the times we went to New York together and watched countless broadway shows. I miss the times we sang together in the karaoke, the times I'd sit beside him watching tv and pinch his nose...and how he loved to tickle me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But it's different now...as selfish as it may sound, I guess there are things that I need to do for myself as well. It's not that I don't wanna be with him. I really do and the time will come when I will. Just...not now.  This doesn't mean I've changed.  This doesn't mean that I love him any less. In fact, I'm missing him more and more.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6382/1443/1600/Dad%20and%20Me4.jpg"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6382/1443/320/Dad%20and%20Me4.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6382/1443/1600/CIMG0030.jpg"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6382/1443/200/CIMG0030.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15552865-113024723426052385?l=squinched.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://squinched.blogspot.com/feeds/113024723426052385/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15552865&amp;postID=113024723426052385' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15552865/posts/default/113024723426052385'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15552865/posts/default/113024723426052385'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://squinched.blogspot.com/2005/10/daddys-girl.html' title='Daddy&apos;s Girl'/><author><name>chocolover</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00344594020092371719</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15552865.post-112979786669429074</id><published>2005-10-20T16:25:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-10-20T16:48:00.016+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Just a Random Thought</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;I can't forget the one and only time I lost something. It was in Hong Kong. I fine day, I wanted to go to Daimaru to get those artsy stuff...kind of like squeezing this colored paint into a mold and they'll bake it for you to turn it into some form of glass art. But on the way, I realized that I had lost the money that my parents gave me for it. And ever since then, I've learned my lesson. I made it a point to take care of everything I had--to the point that when I'm taking a nap in the car or in the bus, I'd suddenly wake up feeling my pockets, making sure I had still had my wallet or phone.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;But as I grew up, I realized that things change. Sometimes, the more you hold on to things, the more you lose them. Somehow, we just have this innate desire to obtain something that's not actually for us. I don't really know how to explain it but sometimes, at the back of my mind, I know it's not for me...but then, I'd still do everything I can for it...in hopes that maybe, I could derserve it too. Only to find that I'll still lose it eventually. And the more I chase after it...the more determined I am to obtain it, the harder it is to let go. Why can't I just settle for something I have or something that's been there for me all along... and learn to love it?  Because when you realize that it's actually what you really needed...it's such an undesirable feeling to find that it's not there anymore.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;So how does one let go? It's a question I've asked myself a million times. And yes, I'm still searching for answers.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15552865-112979786669429074?l=squinched.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://squinched.blogspot.com/feeds/112979786669429074/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15552865&amp;postID=112979786669429074' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15552865/posts/default/112979786669429074'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15552865/posts/default/112979786669429074'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://squinched.blogspot.com/2005/10/just-random-thought.html' title='Just a Random Thought'/><author><name>chocolover</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00344594020092371719</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15552865.post-112954028589609141</id><published>2005-10-17T16:58:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-10-17T17:11:26.176+08:00</updated><title type='text'>I want it, and i want it now!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6382/1443/1600/ib_ipod_hero.jpg"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6382/1443/400/ib_ipod_hero.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;It's the all-new iPod!  It's here and I want it now!!! It's slick, it's stylish, it's cool and it plays videos! More incentive to take the bus rather than a cab and I mean it!  Who wants to buy my old iPod? Songs included! =p&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Oh well, I'll be a good kid and buy it at the end of the year...after all that mugging, I do deserve it right?  If not, I wonder if Santa would wanna give it to me this Christmas!  All you people, keep me away from the Apple store or else...I might starve myself 'til the end of the year!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Anyway, I'm kinda sick right now...been tasting blood all morning, something's wrong with my throat.  Back to studying!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15552865-112954028589609141?l=squinched.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://squinched.blogspot.com/feeds/112954028589609141/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15552865&amp;postID=112954028589609141' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15552865/posts/default/112954028589609141'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15552865/posts/default/112954028589609141'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://squinched.blogspot.com/2005/10/i-want-it-and-i-want-it-now.html' title='I want it, and i want it now!'/><author><name>chocolover</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00344594020092371719</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15552865.post-112918379093836797</id><published>2005-10-13T13:16:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-10-13T19:15:40.460+08:00</updated><title type='text'>And So It Goes</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;So...it's finally over. Early mornings, running to the bus stop, running to the backstage for morning ensemble, trying to get rid of my croaky morning voice, seeing classmates snooze through assembly, dragging our butts to F2.11, counting minutes 'til the end of the period, trying to find a bird poopless table during recesses, rushing through tutorials during breaks...the list goes on. Seemed like such a drab but in reality, I'm starting to miss it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What is it with goodbyes that make them so hard to do? It's not like we won't see each other anymore...but maybe, it's the change. Think about this, staying exactly where you are for as long as possible, standing perfectly still. It feels better somehow, doesn't it? And even if you're suffering, at least the pain is familiar. Specially in an environment like AC, who would want to go the untraveled road?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But sadly, goodbyes are inevitable. And when the time comes for it, I often wonder, was it worth it? Did I make a difference in the lives of others just as they had in mine? And for that, I'd like to thank a bunch of crazy people, who've made my life in AC, a really fantastic one.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To SB1 2005: Waimay, Pei Xian, Daphne, Siran, Neha, Clara, Rachael, Lance, Leonard, Lionel, Jia Ming, Daniel, Zhiheng, Leow, Ben, Tawseef, Wei Jun, U-Jin, Eugene, Zou Li, Zhen Keng, and Eric. Thanks all for the great times we've had. Love you guys! &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6382/1443/1600/CIMG0246.jpg"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6382/1443/320/CIMG0246.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;To the CHOIR PEOPLE: Honestly, I can't really say much...choir has been such a big part of my life that I can't even begin to describe how much I'm going to miss every single bit of it! Yeah I know we talked about this during our farewell but...some things I just can't get over!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6382/1443/1600/OurBatch2.jpg"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6382/1443/320/OurBatch2.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To the TEACHERS: Thanks so much for being soooo patient with our class and tolerating my talkativeness! We owe it all to you!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, since school is over...I kind of did something to my uniform...well, not exactly me but..heh. Here it is!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6382/1443/1600/CIMG02812.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6382/1443/200/CIMG0281.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6382/1443/1600/CIMG02823.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6382/1443/200/CIMG02822.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oops...Don't worry, I've got 5 more somewhere in my closet!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15552865-112918379093836797?l=squinched.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://squinched.blogspot.com/feeds/112918379093836797/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15552865&amp;postID=112918379093836797' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15552865/posts/default/112918379093836797'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15552865/posts/default/112918379093836797'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://squinched.blogspot.com/2005/10/and-so-it-goes.html' title='And So It Goes'/><author><name>chocolover</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00344594020092371719</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15552865.post-112902572240000283</id><published>2005-10-11T17:21:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-10-11T19:23:20.836+08:00</updated><title type='text'>After 20 Years of Being Human...</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Got this off my friend's site...Thought it was kinda interesting. Some of them made me think about what it was like to be a kid again. Check it out. :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;smoked a cigar(ette)&lt;/span&gt; - NOPE&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;madeout with a member of the same sex&lt;/span&gt; - Eww. Of Course Not.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;crashed a friend's car&lt;/span&gt; - Thanks God, No!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;stolen a car&lt;/span&gt; - I'm a good girl.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;been in love&lt;/span&gt; - Sadly, yes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;shoplifted&lt;/span&gt; - I pay!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;been fired&lt;/span&gt; - Haven't really started working.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;been in a fist fight&lt;/span&gt; - When I was young, yes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;snuck out of my parent's house&lt;/span&gt; - Nope!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;had feelings for someone who didn't have them back&lt;/span&gt; - Nope if crushes don't count!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;been arrested&lt;/span&gt; - Nope.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;made out with a stranger&lt;/span&gt; - Yikes. No.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;gone on a blind date&lt;/span&gt; - No.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;lied to a friend&lt;/span&gt; - Guess everyone has done this.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;had a crush on a teacher&lt;/span&gt; - Hmm...no.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;been to Europe&lt;/span&gt; - Yeah! It's a great place!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;skipped school&lt;/span&gt; - What if I was "sick"? Like really.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;slept with a co-worker&lt;/span&gt; - I don't work!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;seen someone die&lt;/span&gt; - Nope. I can't even bear the thought.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;had a crush on one of your LJ friends&lt;/span&gt; - No. This is so high school-ish!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;been to Canada&lt;/span&gt; - Yep! And I love it there!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;been to Mexico&lt;/span&gt; - Nope!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;been on a plane&lt;/span&gt; - Yep...more than my toes can count. That's the price for being a foreign student.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;thrown up in a bar&lt;/span&gt; - Nope! I don't like bars.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;purposely set a part of myself on fire&lt;/span&gt; - Haha I'm not crazy!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;eaten Sushi&lt;/span&gt; - One of my favorite foods.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;been snowboarding&lt;/span&gt; - Nope! Skiing? Yep.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;met someone in person from LJ&lt;/span&gt; - Nope. Haha I've gone past that EB trend.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;been moshing at a concert&lt;/span&gt; - No way! I don't like the thought of exchanging sweat droplets. Yuck!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;been in an abusive relationship&lt;/span&gt; - No!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;taken painkillers&lt;/span&gt; - Yes, especially now that my head hurts all the time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;love someone or miss someone right now&lt;/span&gt; - Of course...I'm far away from a lot of people...sad.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;laid on your back and watched cloud shapes go by&lt;/span&gt; - Yes...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;made a snow angel&lt;/span&gt; - Nope!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;had a tea party&lt;/span&gt; - Yes, with my Barbie dolls when I was 7.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;flown a kite&lt;/span&gt; - Yeah but I think it landed on a puddle so no more kite flying.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;built a sand castle&lt;/span&gt; - No...I don't like the sun that the sand comes with.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;gone puddle jumping&lt;/span&gt; - Nope!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;played dress up&lt;/span&gt; - Yes! As early as 3 years old...I was such a vain kid.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;jumped into a pile of leaves&lt;/span&gt; - Not a pile...I like the sound of crunchy leaves when you step on them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;gone sledding&lt;/span&gt; - Nope!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;cheated while playing a game&lt;/span&gt; - Yes! Haha...you've gotta play dirty when you're playing with my brothers!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;been lonely&lt;/span&gt; - Who hasn't?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;fallen asleep at work/school&lt;/span&gt; - Oh man...I'm guilty of this.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;used a fake id&lt;/span&gt; - Nope! I'm old enough. Hah!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;watched the sunset&lt;/span&gt; - Not really...But I'd love to...one day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;felt an earthquake&lt;/span&gt; - Yes! And I thought it was my brother making fun of me...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;touched a snake&lt;/span&gt; - Yup...I even had a picture with it!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;slept beneath the stars&lt;/span&gt; - Not exactly...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;been tickled&lt;/span&gt; - A million times.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;been robbed&lt;/span&gt; - Nope!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;been misunderstood&lt;/span&gt; - Yeah...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;petted a reindeer/goat&lt;/span&gt; - Nope, not yet. And I don't intend to.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;won a contest&lt;/span&gt; - Yes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;run a red light&lt;/span&gt; - Nope.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;been suspended from school&lt;/span&gt; - No.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;been in a car accident&lt;/span&gt; - Yes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;had braces&lt;/span&gt; - Oh yes. Back in the days when metalmouths were cool.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;felt like an outcast&lt;/span&gt; - Hey yaaaa, hey ya. Well, Yah.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;eaten a whole pint of ice cream in one night&lt;/span&gt; - No, I've never been that depressed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;had deja vu&lt;/span&gt; - Yes and it's kinda creepy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;danced in the moonlight&lt;/span&gt; - Nooo.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;hated the way you look&lt;/span&gt; - Yes! A lot of times...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;witnessed a crime&lt;/span&gt; - Uhh yeah. And it still haunts me...10 years after.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;pole danced&lt;/span&gt; - No...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;questioned your heart&lt;/span&gt; - Yup.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;been obsessed with post-it notes&lt;/span&gt; - No. Haha! What a weird obsession.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;squished barefoot through the mud&lt;/span&gt; - Nope. Yikes!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;been lost&lt;/span&gt; - I'd think so. I'm bad with directions!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;been to the opposite side of the country&lt;/span&gt; - Philippines? Nope. Singapore, well, how far can it be?&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;swam in the ocean&lt;/span&gt; - Nope.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;felt like dying&lt;/span&gt; - Oh yes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;cried yourself to sleep&lt;/span&gt; - Hmm...I think the answer's pretty obvious.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;played cops and robbers&lt;/span&gt; - Yes! Who hasn't?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;recently colored with crayons/colored pencils/markers&lt;/span&gt; - No. I've got A-levels!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;sung karaoke&lt;/span&gt; - Yes...more of forced to.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;paid for a meal with only coins&lt;/span&gt; - Yeah!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;done something you told yourself you wouldn't&lt;/span&gt; - Yes...regretted.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;made prank phone calls&lt;/span&gt; - Oh yes. Heh! I'll never forget them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;laughed until some kind of beverage came out of your nose&lt;/span&gt; - Yes, thanks to my brother who made me laugh while I was drinking Coke. Yes, it was painful.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;caught a snowflake on your tongue&lt;/span&gt; - Nope!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;danced in the rain&lt;/span&gt; - No.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;written a letter to Santa Claus&lt;/span&gt; - Yes, not knowing Santa Claus was my sister.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;been kissed under a mistletoe&lt;/span&gt; - Nope!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;watched the sun rise with someone you care about&lt;/span&gt; - Hmm...don't think so.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;blown bubbles&lt;/span&gt; - Yep!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;made a bonfire on the beach&lt;/span&gt; - No but I'd love to.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;crashed a party&lt;/span&gt; - Nope.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;gone rollerskating&lt;/span&gt; - Rollerblading, yes. My mom would freak out cause I'd do it inside the house.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;had a wish come true&lt;/span&gt; - Yes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;humped a monkey&lt;/span&gt; - What?!?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;worn pearls&lt;/span&gt; - Yep! That's what the name is for.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;jumped off a bridge&lt;/span&gt; - Are you crazy?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;screamed vagina in class&lt;/span&gt; - No.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;ate dog/cat food&lt;/span&gt; - Haha I've never been THAT hungry. No.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;told a complete stranger you loved them&lt;/span&gt; - No.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;kissed a mirror&lt;/span&gt; - Hell no.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;sang in the shower&lt;/span&gt; - All the time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;have a little black dress&lt;/span&gt; - Nope!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;had a dream that you married someone&lt;/span&gt; - Nope!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;glued your hand to something&lt;/span&gt; - How about glued my finger to my other finger?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;got your tongue stuck to a flag pole&lt;/span&gt; - I'm still sane.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;kissed a fish&lt;/span&gt; - I'm not that desperate.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;worn the opposite sexes clothes&lt;/span&gt; - Yes! Back when I was tomboy-ish. Oh, the awkward stage of one's life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;been a cheerleader&lt;/span&gt; - Not exactly...but I've cheerdanced!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;sat on a roof top&lt;/span&gt; - Yes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;screamed at the top of your lungs&lt;/span&gt; - Yup!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;done a one-handed cartwheel&lt;/span&gt; - No...I can't even do it with both hands!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;talked on the phone for more than 6 hours&lt;/span&gt; - Yes...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;stayed up all night&lt;/span&gt; - Yup!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;didnt take a shower for a week&lt;/span&gt; - Yuck. No way.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;pick and ate an apple right off the tree&lt;/span&gt; - Nope.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;climbed a tree&lt;/span&gt; - No.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;had a tree house&lt;/span&gt; - No, but I wanted one so badly!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;are scared to watch scary movies&lt;/span&gt; - Uhh yeah. You won't believe how much I scream.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;believe in ghosts&lt;/span&gt; - Not really...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;have more then 30 pairs of shoes&lt;/span&gt; - Currently? No.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;worn a really ugly outfit to school just to see what others say&lt;/span&gt; - Hmm...how ugly can uniforms get?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;gone streaking&lt;/span&gt; - No!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;played ding-dong-ditch&lt;/span&gt; - What's that?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;played chicken&lt;/span&gt; - What's that?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;been pushed into a pool with all your clothes on&lt;/span&gt; - No.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;been told you're hot by a complete stranger&lt;/span&gt; - Hmm...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;broken a bone&lt;/span&gt; - Nope!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;been easily amused&lt;/span&gt; - Yes..haha!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;caught a fish then ate it&lt;/span&gt; - Nope, haven't even tried fishing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;made porn&lt;/span&gt; - NO.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;caught a butterfly&lt;/span&gt; - No, I'm scared of them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;laughed so hard you cried&lt;/span&gt; - Yes!!! The feeling is great! Happy and nice abs.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;cried so hard you laughed&lt;/span&gt; - I usually cry when I'm sad.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;mooned/flashed someone&lt;/span&gt; - No.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;had someone moon/flash you&lt;/span&gt; - No.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;cheated on a test&lt;/span&gt; - Do leakages count?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;have a Britney Spears CD&lt;/span&gt; - Yeah, I think the oldest one! Hit me baby one more time!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thanks Layds! :) &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15552865-112902572240000283?l=squinched.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://squinched.blogspot.com/feeds/112902572240000283/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15552865&amp;postID=112902572240000283' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15552865/posts/default/112902572240000283'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15552865/posts/default/112902572240000283'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://squinched.blogspot.com/2005/10/after-20-years-of-being-human.html' title='After 20 Years of Being Human...'/><author><name>chocolover</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00344594020092371719</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15552865.post-112886394293288380</id><published>2005-10-09T20:57:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-10-09T22:47:36.496+08:00</updated><title type='text'>My Life So Far...</title><content type='html'>Just taking a bit of a break from all the studying. Seriously, I feel like a robot. Working day 'til night...not really caring about other things that are happening...being such a nerd. I've dettached my heart from myself and ignored the life I had. Anyway I was supposed to take quizzes about myself to find out which course is better for me to take in university and I stumbled upon this quiz.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://quizilla.com/users/infairverona/quizzes/Which%20O.C.%20teen%20character%20stereotype%20are%20you?/"&gt;Which O.C. teen character stereotype are you?&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:0;"&gt;brought to you by &lt;a href="http://quizilla.com"&gt;Quizilla&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img alt="HASH(0x8ccb3c8)" src="http://images.quizilla.com/I/infairverona/1072197621_OCprincess.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Princess - Marissa&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://quizilla.com/users/GypsyZora/quizzes/Which%20Member%20of%20the%20Alias%20SpyGang%20are%20you%3F/"&gt; Which Member of the Alias SpyGang are you?&lt;/a&gt;&lt;BR&gt; &lt;font size="-2"&gt;brought to you by &lt;a href="http://quizilla.com"&gt;Quizilla&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://images.quizilla.com/G/GypsyZora/1051674133_CQuizpicciesSydney.jpg" border="0" alt="You are SpyBarbie!"&gt;&lt;br&gt;You are Sydney Bristow&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hmmm...Interesting.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15552865-112886394293288380?l=squinched.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://squinched.blogspot.com/feeds/112886394293288380/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15552865&amp;postID=112886394293288380' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15552865/posts/default/112886394293288380'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15552865/posts/default/112886394293288380'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://squinched.blogspot.com/2005/10/my-life-so-far.html' title='My Life So Far...'/><author><name>chocolover</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00344594020092371719</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15552865.post-112879299608664716</id><published>2005-10-09T01:30:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-10-09T12:30:04.103+08:00</updated><title type='text'>At Long Last</title><content type='html'>FINALLY! A blog that can be viewed by the public. Well, guess just wanna welcome everyone into the drama of my life...my idiosyncrasies...my musings and all else. My brain is really too tired to say anything else right now...all that coding was kinda overwhelming (but satisfying). So anyway, I will try to update as much as I can...but as of now, signing off!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15552865-112879299608664716?l=squinched.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://squinched.blogspot.com/feeds/112879299608664716/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15552865&amp;postID=112879299608664716' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15552865/posts/default/112879299608664716'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15552865/posts/default/112879299608664716'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://squinched.blogspot.com/2005/10/at-long-last.html' title='At Long Last'/><author><name>chocolover</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00344594020092371719</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
