<?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-7649938</id><updated>2012-02-16T19:23:20.712+08:00</updated><category term='Personal'/><category term='pictures'/><category term='habit'/><category term='the blue light'/><category term='smoke'/><category term='adventures'/><category term='2011'/><category term='merry christmas'/><category term='MRT'/><category term='boring adventure'/><category term='Photos'/><category term='Pirates'/><category term='cute'/><category term='Anime'/><category term='incident'/><category term='sjab'/><category term='青の炎'/><category term='travel'/><category term='amusing'/><category term='results'/><category term='prom'/><category term='thoughts'/><category term='wish'/><category term='Mother'/><category term='inception'/><category term='1 litre of tears'/><category term='new phrase learnt'/><category term='advance nco course'/><category term='17'/><category term='outing'/><category term='work'/><category term='council'/><category term='jdrama'/><category term='rainy day'/><category term='first day of the year'/><category term='harry potter'/><category term='angst'/><category term='18'/><category term='IQ test'/><category term='TV'/><category term='fireworks'/><category term='birthday'/><category term='O level'/><category term='english words'/><category term='deathly hallows'/><category term='rants'/><category term='2010'/><category term='dream'/><category term='happy'/><category term='school'/><category term='year book'/><category term='quiz'/><category term='toilet'/><category term='camps'/><category term='movie'/><category term='19'/><category term='adventure'/><category term='Specials'/><category term='Complaints'/><category term='taiwan'/><category term='afterthoughts'/><category term='tweets'/><category term='black devil'/><category term='emotional'/><category term='fear'/><category term='food story'/><category term='ipod touch'/><category term='pet'/><category term='calculator'/><title type='text'>like the strafe of a bullet.</title><subtitle type='html'>let's escape from the fatal embrace of time.</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://angiesecondblog.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7649938/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://angiesecondblog.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><link rel='next' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7649938/posts/default?start-index=101&amp;max-results=100'/><author><name>Angie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10483082194686115747</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='16' src='http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v382/Aqchua/angie2.gif'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>1531</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7649938.post-6364065693509434311</id><published>2012-02-08T02:13:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2012-02-08T02:13:14.588+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>in light of 2 modules I am currently taking and hating. I am finding much love in my economics module.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;arts and social sciences wth.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7649938-6364065693509434311?l=angiesecondblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://angiesecondblog.blogspot.com/feeds/6364065693509434311/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7649938&amp;postID=6364065693509434311&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7649938/posts/default/6364065693509434311'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7649938/posts/default/6364065693509434311'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://angiesecondblog.blogspot.com/2012/02/in-light-of-2-modules-i-am-currently.html' title=''/><author><name>Angie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10483082194686115747</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='16' src='http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v382/Aqchua/angie2.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7649938.post-3702904849487788606</id><published>2012-02-04T03:06:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2012-02-04T03:06:03.093+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Calm down</title><content type='html'>I am going to face everything with a relaxed attitude&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am going to be calm.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am not going to think.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;BE WATER.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7649938-3702904849487788606?l=angiesecondblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://angiesecondblog.blogspot.com/feeds/3702904849487788606/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7649938&amp;postID=3702904849487788606&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7649938/posts/default/3702904849487788606'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7649938/posts/default/3702904849487788606'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://angiesecondblog.blogspot.com/2012/02/calm-down.html' title='Calm down'/><author><name>Angie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10483082194686115747</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='16' src='http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v382/Aqchua/angie2.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7649938.post-1788260147179397897</id><published>2012-01-26T00:39:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2012-01-26T00:39:09.883+08:00</updated><title type='text'>at times...</title><content type='html'>...you feel like you've tried everything and frustration sets in when nothing goes your way.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;it's the lack of energy.&lt;br /&gt;it's the lack of interest.&lt;br /&gt;it's the lack of passion.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;that is making my school life so mediocre.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I feel like I am towing my body. I don't feel as energetic and as spontaneous as I felt back in Secondary School. I became afraid. Afraid of experiencing once I left my comfort zone.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's horrifying. I am afraid to try. I am afraid to be out of my little box. I am afraid of changing. I am afraid. I say I am lazy. but really, it's more of a fear.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7649938-1788260147179397897?l=angiesecondblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://angiesecondblog.blogspot.com/feeds/1788260147179397897/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7649938&amp;postID=1788260147179397897&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7649938/posts/default/1788260147179397897'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7649938/posts/default/1788260147179397897'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://angiesecondblog.blogspot.com/2012/01/at-times.html' title='at times...'/><author><name>Angie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10483082194686115747</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='16' src='http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v382/Aqchua/angie2.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7649938.post-1777198725527962333</id><published>2012-01-08T13:37:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2012-01-08T13:37:37.590+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Let me join in the Grace Fu Fun :)</title><content type='html'>&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: white; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; color: #333333; font-family: Helvetica, sans-serif;"&gt;"When I made the decision to eat a lot in1992, losing fats was not a key factor. Tightening collars, popping buttonsfrom pants and panting after two flights of stairs were. The disruption to myallowance is also of important consideration. I had some ground to believe thatmy tummy would not experience drastic change in the amount inches but I had tobuy free size pants instead. I fear if the balance is tilted further in thefuture, I will be left with no pants."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="apple-converted-space"&gt;&lt;span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: white; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; color: #333333; font-family: Helvetica, sans-serif;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: white; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; color: #333333; font-family: Helvetica, sans-serif;"&gt;–A&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7649938-1777198725527962333?l=angiesecondblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://angiesecondblog.blogspot.com/feeds/1777198725527962333/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7649938&amp;postID=1777198725527962333&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7649938/posts/default/1777198725527962333'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7649938/posts/default/1777198725527962333'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://angiesecondblog.blogspot.com/2012/01/let-me-join-in-grace-fu-fun.html' title='Let me join in the Grace Fu Fun :)'/><author><name>Angie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10483082194686115747</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='16' src='http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v382/Aqchua/angie2.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7649938.post-5951872927908351215</id><published>2011-12-28T02:48:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2011-12-28T02:48:46.088+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Drama</title><content type='html'>The saddest part about leaving is knowing that no one will be waiting for you to return.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Comedy is merely tragic wrapped with ridicule and exaggeration.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The only fight one should engage in is the fight for one's belief.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can only be as human as you make me to be.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7649938-5951872927908351215?l=angiesecondblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://angiesecondblog.blogspot.com/feeds/5951872927908351215/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7649938&amp;postID=5951872927908351215&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7649938/posts/default/5951872927908351215'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7649938/posts/default/5951872927908351215'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://angiesecondblog.blogspot.com/2011/12/drama.html' title='Drama'/><author><name>Angie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10483082194686115747</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='16' src='http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v382/Aqchua/angie2.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7649938.post-2800469778089015474</id><published>2011-12-28T02:25:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2011-12-28T02:49:48.288+08:00</updated><title type='text'>My favourite lines stuck in my hippocampus</title><content type='html'>How do I know I can trust you?&lt;br /&gt;You don't. You just have to.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There is a very subtle difference between tolerance and acceptance.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7649938-2800469778089015474?l=angiesecondblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://angiesecondblog.blogspot.com/feeds/2800469778089015474/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7649938&amp;postID=2800469778089015474&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7649938/posts/default/2800469778089015474'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7649938/posts/default/2800469778089015474'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://angiesecondblog.blogspot.com/2011/12/one-of-my-favourite-lines.html' title='My favourite lines stuck in my hippocampus'/><author><name>Angie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10483082194686115747</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='16' src='http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v382/Aqchua/angie2.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7649938.post-6284066473302608373</id><published>2011-12-26T03:14:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2011-12-26T03:17:09.562+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Shy</title><content type='html'>Lol when others compliment me I feel shy&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Also when others say I am sweet or nice because of something I said I'd feel lost too. That's because all I spoke of was the truth. It wasn't to appear nice or sweet but just honesty. But i do feel gleeful when such nice words are showered on me TT__TT it's not everyday I receive such kind words due to my excessive tongue in cheek comments lol&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know it's a little ironic. I am flourishing the adjectives given to me when others could have just been honest as well. But we can't possibly say 'awww you are so honest'&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*giggles like a madwoman* whatever it is I am inclined to feel as though I am floating when positive adjectives are used to describe me. MAYBE BECAUSE THEY ARE RARE :D&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Shy shy /)___(\&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7649938-6284066473302608373?l=angiesecondblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://angiesecondblog.blogspot.com/feeds/6284066473302608373/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7649938&amp;postID=6284066473302608373&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7649938/posts/default/6284066473302608373'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7649938/posts/default/6284066473302608373'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://angiesecondblog.blogspot.com/2011/12/shy.html' title='Shy'/><author><name>Angie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10483082194686115747</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='16' src='http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v382/Aqchua/angie2.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7649938.post-8359860388338873877</id><published>2011-12-17T23:34:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2011-12-17T23:34:10.161+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>突然很害怕，因爲發現自己活得很茫然。&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7649938-8359860388338873877?l=angiesecondblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://angiesecondblog.blogspot.com/feeds/8359860388338873877/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7649938&amp;postID=8359860388338873877&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7649938/posts/default/8359860388338873877'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7649938/posts/default/8359860388338873877'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://angiesecondblog.blogspot.com/2011/12/blog-post_17.html' title=''/><author><name>Angie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10483082194686115747</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='16' src='http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v382/Aqchua/angie2.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7649938.post-7298285078742529875</id><published>2011-12-11T03:05:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2011-12-11T03:25:15.294+08:00</updated><title type='text'>SNSD Singapore Concert 2011 10 Dec</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-GbqKtzDi9ws/TuOusto9n3I/AAAAAAAAA0A/3RkUcWfdbdI/s1600/IMG_0826.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="240" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-GbqKtzDi9ws/TuOusto9n3I/AAAAAAAAA0A/3RkUcWfdbdI/s320/IMG_0826.JPG" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-family: Helvetica, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 14px; line-height: 16px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 16px;"&gt;hyo is the cutest thing on earth.... seeing her irl is...crazy, they wayshe waves and smiles...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 16px;"&gt;Witnessing tiffany's eyesmiles, it's as though she is flirting to me...LOL&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 16px;"&gt;Hyo and Fany came to our side and they went onto the elevator. Hyoyeon was waving and smiling and giving hearts, seeing her in real life will just make her rocket up any list you have (which i don't really do LOL). Tiffany kept making hearts too. Her eyes were hard to see and that's good n__n&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444; font-family: Arial, 'Helvetica Neue', sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 15px; line-height: 19px;"&gt;In genie when Tiffany said, "Singapore Put it Back On" a single drop of spit flew from her mouth in a projectile motion. it was pure physics beauty. I am really glad to be able to witnessed it xD&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 16px;"&gt;WATCHING TIFFANY SPIT MAKES THIS CONCERT ALL WORTH IT TT__TT&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 16px;"&gt;During Kissing You, Yulsic was at my diagonal left with Jessica backfacing me (for most of the whole concert actually), could see Yuri's eyesmiling while they did their pinky promise.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 16px;"&gt;WITNESSED YUL'S FLIRTY EXPRESSION TOWARDS JESSICA DURING KISSING YOU /faints&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 16px;"&gt;Kept seeing Jessica's backview ~___~ she rarely turns to my side, oh well, I like her chunli hair ^___^&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 16px;"&gt;Yuri came over to my side for 2 times but because people from the back ran up to the front, I couldn't really see her. I could see her white hat and really sharp nose ^___^&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 16px;"&gt;Yuri dancing at the end and soshi obsession with chili crabs...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-family: Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 16px;"&gt;After their supposed last song theyasked why were we not sad and cheering LOL then tiffany translated saying thatprobably because the audience knew that it wasn't really their last song and she said, "well, for our PRETEND last song" So Cute :3&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 16px;"&gt;WATCHING SICA'S SWEAT AND TAE'S SWEAT ON THE BIG HD SCREEN WAS THE BEST&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 16px;"&gt;Taeyeon's hairstyle remained the same throughout-the braided fringe-evenduring Devil's Cry.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 16px;"&gt;Tiffany asked who was here yesterday (for the first night) and taeyeon jumped and said "ME ME ME" xD&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 16px;"&gt;Sunny did her intro in her cutie voice CHEERED LIKE MADDDD AND SHE WORETHAT OUTFIT THAT SHOWCASED HER ASSETS ^___^&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 16px;"&gt;Saw Yoona's pants disappeared from the backview lmao IT WAS AMAZING Especially when she hung onto the pole like a pro and kicked it off&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 16px;"&gt;During the intro for Bad Girl, we could see the girls (behind thescreen) doing some dorky dance(or maybe it's the choreo lol)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 16px;"&gt;At the end, Jessica leaned her forehead against Yuri's back ^__^ Someguy shouted YULSIC! Then later sica stuffed her mic to fany's eye and the guyshouted "JETI" lol&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 16px;"&gt;The girls shoving their mics into Tiffany’s face. Yuri was the one who held her mic like a boom while Jessica was just randomly shoving into Tiffany’s cheek then left eye ^___^&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 16px;"&gt;Hyoyeon was dragged off by Sunny at the end kekeke they made faces tothe camera ^___^ HYO IS REALLY SWEETTTT&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 16px;"&gt;They said we were as passionate as our weather LMAO THAT'S REALLYPASSIONATE hahha&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 16px;"&gt;Taeyeon was tearing up in the first few songs, i cannot even rmb the songLOL&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 16px;"&gt;During the fan event for complete sica and tae cried ^___^&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 16px;"&gt;When Tiffany said it was the last song and the concert is about to end, we all went "NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 16px;"&gt;Man when Jessica asked if we would like to have them come back next year(or was it tiff LOL), we were like YESSSSSS&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 16px;"&gt;Jessica during Gee was like My... And....My.... Because she kept puttingher mic in front for the audience to continue ^___^.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 16px;"&gt;Let it Rain was so beautiful and graceful. The way they move their handsto illustrate rain or something. Then the lipton CF had to surface&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 16px;"&gt;I think there was a Jeti moment in the intro of Gee. Tiffany saidsomething (I presume to be dorky) and Jessica laughed while tiff eyesmiled&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 16px;"&gt;Yuri was the one being squashed in himnae instead of Jessica lol&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 16px;"&gt;Hi, I have one more fanaccount ok. USFHUASHKAJLDJAD YURI'S JACKETSLIPPED OFF IN THE GREAT ESCAPE AND I SAW HER SHOULDER.... :Q____________&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 16px;"&gt;YURI'S SHOULDER WHILE SHE MOVE TO THE BEAT IN REAL LIFE.... *faints*&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 16px;"&gt;Sooyoung’s “I love you more than Chili Crab” and "Sones make SNSD's lives complete"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 16px;"&gt;At the end, Syoo and yoong danced to express their emotions kekeke&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 16px;"&gt;Taeyeon said that she has a lot to express in words and mentioned in her talk that she came to Singapore last year with her parents on a trip&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 16px;"&gt;She also said the fans are as passionate as the weather here xD (in case you didn't know, Singapore is super hot and humid nowadays ~___~)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-family: Helvetica, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 14px; line-height: 16px;"&gt;I love it when the girls smile happily. The whole atmosphere was just so beautiful.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-CQmYA5B90VI/TuOv6HUwbOI/AAAAAAAAA0I/4fZoBkW5q2Q/s1600/snsdcomplete.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-CQmYA5B90VI/TuOv6HUwbOI/AAAAAAAAA0I/4fZoBkW5q2Q/s320/snsdcomplete.jpg" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;I think it's safe to say SNSD makes Sones' lives Complete&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-family: Helvetica, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 14px; line-height: 16px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7649938-7298285078742529875?l=angiesecondblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://angiesecondblog.blogspot.com/feeds/7298285078742529875/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7649938&amp;postID=7298285078742529875&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7649938/posts/default/7298285078742529875'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7649938/posts/default/7298285078742529875'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://angiesecondblog.blogspot.com/2011/12/snsd-singapore-concert-2011-10-dec.html' title='SNSD Singapore Concert 2011 10 Dec'/><author><name>Angie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10483082194686115747</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='16' src='http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v382/Aqchua/angie2.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-GbqKtzDi9ws/TuOusto9n3I/AAAAAAAAA0A/3RkUcWfdbdI/s72-c/IMG_0826.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7649938.post-4347377709450497284</id><published>2011-12-07T02:53:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2011-12-07T02:57:35.779+08:00</updated><title type='text'>;</title><content type='html'>I feel sad down depressed whatever you call it. I feel like I am back in my slump routine.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am unhappy. I am very sad.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think sad people move very slowly. Pick things up very slowly while heaving heavy sighs. Sad people stare at things longer while being sad. Everything seems to take longer because sad people tend to pause for a while to be sad.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lol I actually feel happier after reading what I wrote above lolol&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7649938-4347377709450497284?l=angiesecondblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://angiesecondblog.blogspot.com/feeds/4347377709450497284/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7649938&amp;postID=4347377709450497284&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7649938/posts/default/4347377709450497284'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7649938/posts/default/4347377709450497284'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://angiesecondblog.blogspot.com/2011/12/blog-post.html' title=';'/><author><name>Angie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10483082194686115747</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='16' src='http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v382/Aqchua/angie2.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7649938.post-7863901545500078250</id><published>2011-11-20T10:43:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2011-11-20T10:45:37.382+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>the question I am asking is, if we know this is not ideal and reality deviates from goal, then why are we still going in that direction?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why are we subjecting ourselves to it when we clearly know that there is something fundamentally flawed?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;it's just a question. I don't expect arguments or debates. I know. I know how reality is blah and theory is blah. I know, I know. i just can't help but ask.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7649938-7863901545500078250?l=angiesecondblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://angiesecondblog.blogspot.com/feeds/7863901545500078250/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7649938&amp;postID=7863901545500078250&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7649938/posts/default/7863901545500078250'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7649938/posts/default/7863901545500078250'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://angiesecondblog.blogspot.com/2011/11/question-i-am-asking-is-if-we-know-this.html' title=''/><author><name>Angie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10483082194686115747</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='16' src='http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v382/Aqchua/angie2.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7649938.post-7078184741845466756</id><published>2011-11-14T04:41:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2011-11-14T04:44:04.683+08:00</updated><title type='text'>青春</title><content type='html'>我的青春就是擤著鼻涕過的吧。很慶幸看了那部電影，所以我也很不要臉地用繁體字來打這段文字。會羨慕吧，羨慕那些青春在電腦科技尚未發達的時代度過。&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sitting down, I asked myself how will my youth look like? My adolescent phase has already passed and actualized.  All that is left is when I look back at this phase, what will I recall? I practically lived and experienced the transition to the digitalized era-dial up to broadband, pager to handphone, films to memory cards. I can't help but wonder what new media has covered, "Are we losing the value of communication as we linger between face to face communication, thoughtfully written letters, phone calls and instant messaging, SMS, social networking tools?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What will it look like in the future? Will films about youth adapted from true stories be like full of new media interference? Seeing as to how even a five year old child may be exposed and well verse in technologies such as iPhone. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I kind of miss the days where collecting stickers and pokemon cards were all that. I don't know how it is like for children nowadays but kind of glad I still know what a floppy disk is. &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7649938-7078184741845466756?l=angiesecondblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://angiesecondblog.blogspot.com/feeds/7078184741845466756/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7649938&amp;postID=7078184741845466756&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7649938/posts/default/7078184741845466756'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7649938/posts/default/7078184741845466756'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://angiesecondblog.blogspot.com/2011/11/blog-post_14.html' title='青春'/><author><name>Angie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10483082194686115747</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='16' src='http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v382/Aqchua/angie2.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7649938.post-4331331505988955423</id><published>2011-11-12T15:17:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2011-11-14T05:41:57.210+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='movie'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='afterthoughts'/><title type='text'>那些年，我們一起追的女孩</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;那些年，我們一起追的女孩&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;很。好。看。&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;青春就是要熱血。就是要有那一點點的魯莽和幼稚吧。我很喜歡這部電影。喜歡它的簡單與直接。沒有複雜的情愫，有的只是真誠和坦白。男孩們喜歡著同樣的女孩卻絲毫不影響兄弟之間的感情。換作是女生的話就不太可能吧？&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;故事不誇張，寫實得很感人。充分地讓我感受到&amp;nbsp;「青春是一場大雨。即使感冒了，還盼望回頭再淋它一次。」&amp;nbsp;的意思。從來不覺得自己15-18嵗的回憶有什麽珍貴，看了電影之後才發現其實是難能可貴。因爲年輕而懵懵懂懂，對未來的不確定，對喜歡的人，對朋友，對家人。&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;電影裏沒有一直重復又重復的名言，所以當下只記得女主角一直說的 “你很幼稚。” 和 “幼稚。”&lt;br /&gt;還有那句“大笨蛋才會喜歡你這麽久。” 那場雨決定了他們曖昧的結果或可以說不結果。&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;回到家才想起兩句我非常喜歡，覺得很有意思：女主角很理所當然地說出「&amp;nbsp;人生本來就有很多事是徒勞無功的啊。」和&amp;nbsp;男主角很有感觸地說出「我也很喜歡，當年喜歡著你的我。」或許是因爲用了“喜歡”而不是“愛”才能呈現出那直率的青春。想一想，‘喜歡’比‘愛’多了一種。。。我也無法明確地說是什麽，就是有差別。&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;喜歡。很喜歡。我是那種一喜歡上一部電影就會持續迷它一個禮拜的人。&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;電影和故事情節的魅力。&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;照理來説，這部電影不應該列入超級無敵好看的歸類，但是我卻覺得它真的超級無敵有意思，超級無敵好看。 Should not, but yet I feel that it is. 觀看電影的矛盾。或許覺得不應該的是那客觀的我，覺得是的卻是我。&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7649938-4331331505988955423?l=angiesecondblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://angiesecondblog.blogspot.com/feeds/4331331505988955423/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7649938&amp;postID=4331331505988955423&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7649938/posts/default/4331331505988955423'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7649938/posts/default/4331331505988955423'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://angiesecondblog.blogspot.com/2011/11/blog-post.html' title='那些年，我們一起追的女孩'/><author><name>Angie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10483082194686115747</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='16' src='http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v382/Aqchua/angie2.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7649938.post-7049784704184276156</id><published>2011-11-09T17:37:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2011-11-09T17:43:20.179+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='thoughts'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='ipod touch'/><title type='text'>Silent beginning</title><content type='html'>"My biggest regret is to die." &lt;br /&gt;this statement is a paradox simply because the dead cannot speak. What if there is afterlife though? Would the dead be conversing with each other, telling them about their regrets they weren't able to rectify when they lived?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Everything will eventually be alright. If it is not, it's not the end yet." this was what sparked the thought. We are only able to change things and make them alright if we live. What if we die before it ends? Then is death the end? Or does death become an incomplete finish?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If life was a story then unless you 'die' when everything is 'alright' if not the story is incomplete; possibly a cliffhanger.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think many regret dying. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Once you are dead you notice the many constraints you have. The things you can't do or feel when you breathed. But because the dead cant speak of their woes the livings assume silence is end. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Because the livings can complain about their woes, we assume silence must be better. I think we can only experience things once. Alive or dead, make sure you don't try to cross over by yourself. Let fate decide. Live life to the fullest. You can enjoy death when it comes. When it arrives, you can't stop it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sight. Smell. Taste. Touch. Hear. Feel. Being alive is amazing.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7649938-7049784704184276156?l=angiesecondblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://angiesecondblog.blogspot.com/feeds/7049784704184276156/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7649938&amp;postID=7049784704184276156&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7649938/posts/default/7049784704184276156'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7649938/posts/default/7049784704184276156'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://angiesecondblog.blogspot.com/2011/11/silent-beginning.html' title='Silent beginning'/><author><name>Angie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10483082194686115747</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='16' src='http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v382/Aqchua/angie2.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7649938.post-1912070150347251368</id><published>2011-11-09T15:58:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2011-11-09T16:03:32.206+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Lessons.</title><content type='html'>Getting off my high horse.&lt;br /&gt;Tending to my mistakes.&lt;br /&gt;Forgetting them is not going to help.&lt;br /&gt;What is the point of making mistakes if you don't learn from them?&lt;br /&gt;I will not get over it.&amp;nbsp;I will learn from it.&lt;br /&gt;I don't like to repeat the same mistake twice because that just means I am still the same old me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;I want to be a better person.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7649938-1912070150347251368?l=angiesecondblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://angiesecondblog.blogspot.com/feeds/1912070150347251368/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7649938&amp;postID=1912070150347251368&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7649938/posts/default/1912070150347251368'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7649938/posts/default/1912070150347251368'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://angiesecondblog.blogspot.com/2011/11/lessons.html' title='Lessons.'/><author><name>Angie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10483082194686115747</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='16' src='http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v382/Aqchua/angie2.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7649938.post-7589807255158403653</id><published>2011-10-29T21:19:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2011-10-29T21:19:37.958+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='thoughts'/><title type='text'>the system</title><content type='html'>We live in the system. We adapt to the system. We may not like the system but it is just so much easier to move with the system than to challenge it. We have qualms, disagreements with &amp;nbsp;the way it works, but we never, never take the step forward to fight it. One small step maybe, but once we find ourselves quivering in fear over what lies beyond this path, we retreat back to the very system we try to challenge.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The system provides security. It gives us a guide to follow. Of course it is easier to follow something that has already been established. Who would want to take the effort to create something that already has a predecessor? It's akin to going against a theory that has been widely agreed with. You wouldn't want to create your own theory, you would very much prefer to just follow that theory. It is easier to follow than to lead.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Are we blindly leading our lives because of this? Are we truly living or are we just going with the flow, carried by the system? We do not recognize the need to change anything because we don't feel it.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7649938-7589807255158403653?l=angiesecondblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://angiesecondblog.blogspot.com/feeds/7589807255158403653/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7649938&amp;postID=7589807255158403653&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7649938/posts/default/7589807255158403653'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7649938/posts/default/7589807255158403653'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://angiesecondblog.blogspot.com/2011/10/system.html' title='the system'/><author><name>Angie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10483082194686115747</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='16' src='http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v382/Aqchua/angie2.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7649938.post-3301951262734786988</id><published>2011-10-19T19:53:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2011-11-04T20:01:01.267+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='birthday'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='19'/><title type='text'>19</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-rgEcEG3idVQ/Tp65-UBfegI/AAAAAAAAAzc/vmE01UocEoI/s1600/SAM_0652.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-rgEcEG3idVQ/Tp65-UBfegI/AAAAAAAAAzc/vmE01UocEoI/s320/SAM_0652.JPG" width="240" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;I am forever grateful to my family and friends. It's always heartwarming to know that your existence is being celebrated by your loved ones. At times, I would think about how I am being treated so nicely that I don't really deserve it but nonetheless, thank you so much for everything. Not just because of my birthday, but because of how this bond is being built over time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think about how fortunate I am by thinking about the worse states I could be in and yet, I am being embraced by concern and warmth. I am very very lucky.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't ask for much but for everyone's health and happiness. Everyone deserves to be happy. So even though I am not writing this on my birthday, I wish for you to smile from the bottom of your heart.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7649938-3301951262734786988?l=angiesecondblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://angiesecondblog.blogspot.com/feeds/3301951262734786988/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7649938&amp;postID=3301951262734786988&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7649938/posts/default/3301951262734786988'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7649938/posts/default/3301951262734786988'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://angiesecondblog.blogspot.com/2011/10/19.html' title='19'/><author><name>Angie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10483082194686115747</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='16' src='http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v382/Aqchua/angie2.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-rgEcEG3idVQ/Tp65-UBfegI/AAAAAAAAAzc/vmE01UocEoI/s72-c/SAM_0652.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7649938.post-3684015148874560590</id><published>2011-10-16T03:43:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2011-10-19T21:20:45.509+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='thoughts'/><title type='text'>The Past</title><content type='html'>I miss something about the past. Why does the past have this appealing trait that makes one yearn for it? No matter how devastating the past might be, somehow, you want something from there. It could be a person, a relationship, a time frame, an item or even the feelings and emotions. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Perhaps nostalgia is the one at work.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Reminiscing about the past always leaves a little empty hole in me. "Where am I now?" I feel incomplete. Like I am lacking something essential to be living instead of just existing. There is something, but I can't put a word to it. It's the feeling where you go "I want to go back. I want to be back there"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Maybe. Just maybe. Humans remember happier things and forgo negative events. Hence, making the past much more attractive than it really was. Been there, done that. Because I have experienced that, I want to experience it again. I know I am going to pull through just fine. I know because it was.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Was. Was. Was. It sounds easy, forgotten yet precious. The probability of an event happening exactly the same way twice is zero. Nothing can be experienced twice identically. There will be-at the very least- a minute tweak.Hence was is precious and yet easily stored away for our convenience; for recollection in future. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The past seems carefree because of my young age. Life is indeed like a roller coaster. Past is when you have ended the ride, heaving sighs of relief and kissing the ground while the present is of course when you are on the ride, experiencing all the adrenaline rushing into your bloodstream. The future, a little tricky here, is like the anticipation when you are at the highest point. Will it be a pleasant ride or will you regret?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So. Instead of the regular timeline of past&amp;gt;present&amp;gt;future, we have end of ride&amp;gt;ride&amp;gt;start of ride. It doesn't even matter actually because eventually past=present=future.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Time is a tricky fellow. Morphing and taking different forms. Time is alive, not dead. Precisely the reason why it is so hard to grasp. You cannot control time, you simply move along with it. The only thing you can control is the past you bring along as you move with it.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7649938-3684015148874560590?l=angiesecondblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://angiesecondblog.blogspot.com/feeds/3684015148874560590/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7649938&amp;postID=3684015148874560590&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7649938/posts/default/3684015148874560590'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7649938/posts/default/3684015148874560590'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://angiesecondblog.blogspot.com/2011/10/past.html' title='The Past'/><author><name>Angie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10483082194686115747</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='16' src='http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v382/Aqchua/angie2.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7649938.post-86435399570607505</id><published>2011-10-12T04:17:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2011-10-19T21:21:10.841+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Complaints'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='MRT'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='rants'/><title type='text'>We can do without those train annoucements</title><content type='html'>Relevant train announcements which bring information across are alright. Train announcements which revolve around telling commuters the obvious annoy me a great deal. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"If the train is full, please board the next train" mind you, they would repeat this announcement for another 2-3 times before the next train arrives within a short span of 1-2 mins. Then, if the next train is still too packed for boarding, you are mostly likely going to hear the same announcement for another 4 to 6 times. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Repetitiveness is only the partial reason for the annoyance. The content itself is annoying. There I stood looking around at working adults dressed in their formal wear, holding onto their briefcase and handbags-wondering why in the world do we need an announcement that stated the obvious? To wait for the next train if the current one was too packed- it's a given. It's a blatant fact everyone knows! And it is not like people were still trying to squeeze in, the train doors were already closed shut! There is absolutely no purpose in the content and it infuriates me further because this kind of implies their opinion on us-the commuters. Grown-ups who are so kiasu that we will risk our lives to get onto the train if we do not have SMRT to tell us not to.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Back in my JC days, I heard even more ridiculous announcements in Bishan circle line station. "Dear passengers, please stand at a less crowded area to ensure faster boarding." I was bitterly smirking at the blasphemy of this announcement. Of course we would find the door with lesser crowd, you need not tell us. The point is, I do not see commuters overcrowding at certain areas at all! It was widespread like what they wanted. Every single door had its fair share of crowd. So, what was the blatantly obvious announcement for???&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And of course my all time favourite, "please give way to alighting passengers before boarding." courtesy and consideration aren't something that will increase just because a person 'heard' it. It's a shame that people do not give way and are constantly pushing and shoving to board the train but hey, these ain't going to change just because of the announcement. This particular announcement has been so regularly heard we don't even feel anything for it. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Essentially what I am trying to say is, announcements which state the obvious are really really irritating especially in the early morning.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7649938-86435399570607505?l=angiesecondblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://angiesecondblog.blogspot.com/feeds/86435399570607505/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7649938&amp;postID=86435399570607505&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7649938/posts/default/86435399570607505'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7649938/posts/default/86435399570607505'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://angiesecondblog.blogspot.com/2011/10/we-can-do-without-those-train.html' title='We can do without those train annoucements'/><author><name>Angie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10483082194686115747</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='16' src='http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v382/Aqchua/angie2.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7649938.post-1122322690189794844</id><published>2011-10-07T22:55:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2011-10-07T22:55:03.805+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Update</title><content type='html'>Finally done with mid terms!&lt;br /&gt;And yes, I didn't really abstain from twitter or tumblr (I only did it for a day).&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7649938-1122322690189794844?l=angiesecondblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://angiesecondblog.blogspot.com/feeds/1122322690189794844/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7649938&amp;postID=1122322690189794844&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7649938/posts/default/1122322690189794844'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7649938/posts/default/1122322690189794844'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://angiesecondblog.blogspot.com/2011/10/update.html' title='Update'/><author><name>Angie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10483082194686115747</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='16' src='http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v382/Aqchua/angie2.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7649938.post-843725436456505654</id><published>2011-09-29T03:17:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2011-09-29T03:27:06.637+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='habit'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='school'/><title type='text'>Staying Away</title><content type='html'>The World Wide Web contains a lot of distractions and websites that would perpetually suck the life out of you.&amp;nbsp;So I made a decision at this ungodly hour (while staring at my forlorn Psychology midterms essay) to stay away from Tumblr and Twitter.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tumblr and me are like luxury good and consumer- I do not need it and I do not crave for it. Alas, the same cannot be applied on Twitter. Twitter is like salt, sugar and rice-staple and a&amp;nbsp;necessity. It has become a habitual thing for me to check twitter every now and then; to get information, to update people on what I saw. Hence, I took a longer time contemplating whether to announce my decision to abstain from the less than 140 characters world.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The trigger was probably how messed up I am with my schedules. I make&amp;nbsp;absolutely&amp;nbsp;no use of my free days and end up either sleeping them away or on the internet entertaining myself. This, is definitely not what I want or what the society and economy wants. To put it in an economic term, I am inefficient. I am not exactly complacent because complacency only applies to those who are at the top (which sadly I'm not), just really really enjoy procrastinating. The joy from not giving a hoot about studies&amp;nbsp;enthralls&amp;nbsp;me. I am unable to break off from this feeling.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, I have to break off the sources that are chaining me down.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am keeping my blog because I know I need an outlet. Hopefully all turns out well and I can finish my mid terms essay with the help of a tall caramel macchiato on Thursday :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7649938-843725436456505654?l=angiesecondblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://angiesecondblog.blogspot.com/feeds/843725436456505654/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7649938&amp;postID=843725436456505654&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7649938/posts/default/843725436456505654'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7649938/posts/default/843725436456505654'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://angiesecondblog.blogspot.com/2011/09/abstain.html' title='Staying Away'/><author><name>Angie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10483082194686115747</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='16' src='http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v382/Aqchua/angie2.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7649938.post-6466918360831663023</id><published>2011-09-19T15:41:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2011-09-22T00:30:23.944+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='rainy day'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='school'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='afterthoughts'/><title type='text'>Brighten up my day</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/--ECJQEP1vsU/TnbyPH2aC-I/AAAAAAAAAzM/EQz8iCroCyo/s1600/blogger-image-1656755432.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" src="https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/--ECJQEP1vsU/TnbyPH2aC-I/AAAAAAAAAzM/EQz8iCroCyo/s320/blogger-image-1656755432.jpg" width="240" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;My journey from CWP back home was a pleasant one. When I tilted my head up to a vast blue sky I can't help but smile. Basking in the warmth of the sun rays, the plants looked exceptionally green; contrasted with the azure blue sky-life is good.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;A sudden gust of euphoria erupted in my body and I seriously felt the beauty of my life. Coupled with 2ne1's I Don't Care, bliss was the word. I transcended into a world of my own. Turning my head in a panning action to capture the beauty of my environment. Occasional breeze brushing past my cheeks amplified the serenity I had. I wasn't on cloud 9- I wasnt floating- I was on Earth and it is beautiful.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;Taking my time to observe my environment makes me so so happy. The skies were clear with minimal streaks of white. A beautiful canvas above my head.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-7SROVj9V-A4/TndhtKn8JpI/AAAAAAAAAzU/ltq5Unum7L0/s1600/photo+%252812%25291.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="display: inline !important; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-7SROVj9V-A4/TndhtKn8JpI/AAAAAAAAAzU/ltq5Unum7L0/s320/photo+%252812%25291.JPG" width="240" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;Raining on the ride to school&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;I love the brightness. Rain is to me, too melancholically beautiful to feel happy over. On the contrary, an afternoon enveloped by light and warmth tickles my heart.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;edit: I just realised another essential factor that contributed to my blissful walk was because I was eating my KFC egg tart. Splendid.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;Adding on to my day....&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-02UmSZLQFWY/TndjsmN8NkI/AAAAAAAAAzY/Hu_oa3-uN7Q/s1600/photo+%25282%2529.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-02UmSZLQFWY/TndjsmN8NkI/AAAAAAAAAzY/Hu_oa3-uN7Q/s320/photo+%25282%2529.JPG" width="240" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;Pretzel&amp;nbsp;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;While waiting for the train to arrive at Clementi station, I took out my earpiece intending to add some background music to my mundane wait and saw that the cable was tangled in a pretzel-like shape.Amused, I snapped a photo of it :)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7649938-6466918360831663023?l=angiesecondblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://angiesecondblog.blogspot.com/feeds/6466918360831663023/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7649938&amp;postID=6466918360831663023&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7649938/posts/default/6466918360831663023'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7649938/posts/default/6466918360831663023'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://angiesecondblog.blogspot.com/2011/09/brighten-up-my-day.html' title='Brighten up my day'/><author><name>Angie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10483082194686115747</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='16' src='http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v382/Aqchua/angie2.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/--ECJQEP1vsU/TnbyPH2aC-I/AAAAAAAAAzM/EQz8iCroCyo/s72-c/blogger-image-1656755432.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7649938.post-332992535666036646</id><published>2011-09-10T15:12:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2011-09-10T15:12:31.148+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='ipod touch'/><title type='text'>Blogger iPhone App-FINALLY!!</title><content type='html'>Currently blogging via blogger app. It has really been a long wait! The agony of blogging via browser is finally gone! :) you can even add in pictures! Great great &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway the picture is actually Saprino pizza ^__^&lt;div class="separator"style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="https://lh4.googleusercontent.com/-GvdjCXEqlPU/TmsN3XUbOuI/AAAAAAAAAyw/eiJgG48nqe8/s640/blogger-image-1204622050.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="https://lh4.googleusercontent.com/-GvdjCXEqlPU/TmsN3XUbOuI/AAAAAAAAAyw/eiJgG48nqe8/s640/blogger-image-1204622050.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7649938-332992535666036646?l=angiesecondblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://angiesecondblog.blogspot.com/feeds/332992535666036646/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7649938&amp;postID=332992535666036646&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7649938/posts/default/332992535666036646'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7649938/posts/default/332992535666036646'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://angiesecondblog.blogspot.com/2011/09/blogger-iphone-app-finally.html' title='Blogger iPhone App-FINALLY!!'/><author><name>Angie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10483082194686115747</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='16' src='http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v382/Aqchua/angie2.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='https://lh4.googleusercontent.com/-GvdjCXEqlPU/TmsN3XUbOuI/AAAAAAAAAyw/eiJgG48nqe8/s72-c/blogger-image-1204622050.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7649938.post-1241404303029659367</id><published>2011-09-08T03:23:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2011-09-08T03:41:18.506+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='thoughts'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='school'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='rants'/><title type='text'>Uni life...</title><content type='html'>Man, I just have to rant it out a little here. No flourished English sentences or anything but I find Uni life hectic.&lt;br /&gt;And mind you, I am having a 3 day week yet I find it hectic. I find myself crammed with ongoing assignments and tutorials to do.... They are really never ending. You are never ahead of them. Yea, you can finish your assignment 3 days before, but after that, a new one's being uploaded... I find myself always catching up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Maybe because I have to like print every single piece of academic stuff myself. Like besides studying, I still have to be concerned with downloading stuff every week and to print them out and staple them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's just so...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can't multi-task for heaven's sake. I am so bad at doing 2 stuff at one time. Like in this case, one time is sort of like a span of my academic life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I either study or I relax.&lt;br /&gt;Add printing and administrative stuff to it and BOOM. have to adapt like a crap.&lt;br /&gt;And please add wordy readings to my new life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Still not adapting to readings...this just show how screwed I am... mid terms in 2 weeks yet I have not finished a single New Media Reading OR my psych chapters.... lagged&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Words never turned me off so much. oh well, how ironic that I am actually ranting in words...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I only look forward to doing my Econs tutorial nowadays. Just graph drawing and straight forward answering, no essays or readings.... pure bliss.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;darn it. darn everything&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;people ask me why am I not keen to join any CCA or school activities, the thing is, I am already struggling with my 3 day week, I don't think I can stuff something else inside my curriculum. Time management has never been a strong point for me, thus the post writing at 3.34am.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I want to be young again. I want to be carefree. i don't know how many times I have been mentioning this but being youthful is so important. When a child smiles, she just smiles. It's that simple.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have this concept that smiles are like scales. Everyone starts off with a smile, curving upwards. As we get older and face more problems in life, these problems become attached to the corners of our mouths. They weigh our corners down. That's when we find ourselves struggling to smile. What used to be effortless just isn't so anymore.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Empower us with the mind to think. Empower us with the mind to think positively please. :(&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7649938-1241404303029659367?l=angiesecondblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://angiesecondblog.blogspot.com/feeds/1241404303029659367/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7649938&amp;postID=1241404303029659367&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7649938/posts/default/1241404303029659367'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7649938/posts/default/1241404303029659367'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://angiesecondblog.blogspot.com/2011/09/uni-life.html' title='Uni life...'/><author><name>Angie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10483082194686115747</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='16' src='http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v382/Aqchua/angie2.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7649938.post-8213161838725821544</id><published>2011-09-08T00:45:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2011-09-08T01:12:08.516+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='movie'/><title type='text'>Movie- Glee Concert 3D</title><content type='html'>3/5 Stars for a Glee fan&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;summary: more of a compilation of performances&amp;nbsp;clunked&amp;nbsp;together rather than a true concert&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So. The first piece of unfortunate news I received when I claimed my Glee tickets was that the Glee packs were fully redeemed. My movie starts at 7.45pm, I was there at 7. It was&amp;nbsp;antagonizing&amp;nbsp;and I literally showed the girl my &amp;gt;:O face; I couldn't control it, I am sorry. The biggest factor and trigger that made me book the Glee tickets-because I really really detest 3D movies-was the Glee pack. I felt my head spin and my eyes protruding. It was that bad.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I love Glee. I absolutely adore Glee. I wish I could write, "GLEE MOVIE IS DA BOMB I LOVE IT!!!!" but sadly I can't. &amp;nbsp;I found the movie entertaining, pulling my Glee strings but definitely not worth $11 for 84mins.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As I heard the familiar "bam bam bam bam"&amp;nbsp;A Capella sounds (I don't know the exact terms), I was super excited. Despite having the 3D glasses threatening to fall off any second (since I was wearing my spectacles) I actually thought, "maybe it isn't that bad". But I changed my mind as the movie progresses.Whenever I saw certain scenes, at the back of my head I am like, "why the heck is this in 3D again?' The words are the only frequent things in 3D. and maybe glee club members appearing to pop up a little more.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On a side note, when I saw the 3D of the concert audience's hands, in the screen, I felt like asking them to sit down or brush their hands down... They were kind of blocking my view.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This movie only&amp;nbsp;strengthened&amp;nbsp;my dislike towards 3D movies. Firstly, the screen brightness is immediately reduced by half once you have those glasses on. Secondly, it's a big chore for people who wear spectacles and&amp;nbsp;thirdly, particularly for concerts, I find 3D really really&amp;nbsp;unnecessary. I do not need to see Rachel's microphone protruding out or the slushies at the credits flying into my face. 3D is so overrated and overused.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I love Santana's hairstyle in the concert. Stunning. She's just so charismatic when she danced and sang. And please remind Kurt to always brush up his hair because he is most attractive when he's like that. His rendition of "I Want to Hold your hand" was beautiful. If only it could have been longer. EVERY PERFORMANCE WAS JUST SO FREAKING SHORT.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I totally did not feel like I was watching a concert but rather a compilation of performances edited together. It's not even 2hours long! Besides, in the 84mins, there were true stories of gleeks who had some transformation in their lives because of Glee. ok, I am not trying to be a rude,&amp;nbsp;apathetic person or anything but come on, It could have been shorter. I like how these scenes are the opening and introduction to another performance but the proportion between these 2 is almost equal. I did pay to watch a concert (well in the cinemas) you know.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There were clapping and cheering in the cinemas. Too bad, it still wasn't enough to&amp;nbsp;dissipate&amp;nbsp;the awkward&amp;nbsp;atmosphere of sitting down calmly and watching the performances.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When miniature Blaine came out, you can hear squealing and "awwww" of girls because he's just so freaking cute. He is amazing. Especially at the end where he was imitating Blaine. Popping out behind the sofa, everyone (well mostly the back rows) clapped loudly for him. He can probably get himself quite a few girls with that gimmick of his. (his expressions were&amp;nbsp;intriguing)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And did I mention how amazing Santana is? I did? Well let me say it again. This movie totally brought her 'Glee Status' up. Now, my favourite character is Santana. I love how she emits those "I'm the Queen. Watch me dance" kind of vibe (or was I just imagining them) And again. TOO LITTLE SANTANA (yes too little everything in general) "I am the sexiest" *cheers*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Finn was giving his usual flirtatious smile and squinting eyes. He's hot. Partially because he is so flirty with his smiles.... Oh, I know, it's because he smirks more than he smiles; &lt;i&gt;that's&lt;/i&gt; why. Chord Overstreet is cute. I like his hairstyle. But goshh, he was like there and &amp;nbsp;not there -..- Just saying. And I know I shouldn't complain about this, but I am about to anyways, I find people playing guitars without plugging in in a concert really...really... *inserts adjectives* *shrugs*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't really care about Puck so it's ok for me... sorry He and Lauren can go sing song in a corner&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh, Quinn. I don't even want to mention how little screen time she has. Hope to see more of her in Glee S3 then! Rocking that pink hair... Brittany's performance is just nose bleeding. Yep, that was the only scene you would like in 3D lmao The python's absence was kind of disturbing though &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Rachel is a great great performer. You can see her passion and energy when she is performing. I don't even need to comment on her vocals. She's just really good. Now, about&amp;nbsp;Mercedes, I don't know if it's just me, but I don't really like how Mercedes is always ALWAYS belting out high notes only. I wish one day she could just sing a more mellow song rather than those high dramatic notes for a change.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All in all, never going to watch a 3D concert in cinemas ever again-until one day technology advances and 3D is no longer so annoying. They should have made it a concert rather than 'performances from the concert'. They could have inserted the skits in between perf, but no THEY DIDN'T. Too short. Too freaking short. No glee Pack.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3 stars is the maximum I would give. Hugely because I am a glee lover and the awesome performances. *sighs* Take the 3D out. Insert more performances. Give everyone more screen time, then you have a real Glee Concert.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7649938-8213161838725821544?l=angiesecondblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://angiesecondblog.blogspot.com/feeds/8213161838725821544/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7649938&amp;postID=8213161838725821544&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7649938/posts/default/8213161838725821544'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7649938/posts/default/8213161838725821544'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://angiesecondblog.blogspot.com/2011/09/movie-glee-concert-3d.html' title='Movie- Glee Concert 3D'/><author><name>Angie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10483082194686115747</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='16' src='http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v382/Aqchua/angie2.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7649938.post-9020945794950457168</id><published>2011-08-27T04:11:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2011-08-27T04:14:22.951+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Ryusei no Kizuna</title><content type='html'>I bought Ryusei no Kizuna dvd for a long long time. I didn't want to watch it because I was afraid it will be a very dark and heavy story. Well, I am pleasantly surprised. It wasn't exactly light but the murder incident wasn't overdramatized and they didn't focus on being all melancholy for the entire drama.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;There was adequate comedic relief but not too much that it diverts us from the actual plot. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;It was easy to digest and doesn't leave one heavy hearted or dwelling on the unfortunate incident.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7649938-9020945794950457168?l=angiesecondblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://angiesecondblog.blogspot.com/feeds/9020945794950457168/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7649938&amp;postID=9020945794950457168&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7649938/posts/default/9020945794950457168'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7649938/posts/default/9020945794950457168'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://angiesecondblog.blogspot.com/2011/08/ryusei-no-kizuna.html' title='Ryusei no Kizuna'/><author><name>Angie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10483082194686115747</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='16' src='http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v382/Aqchua/angie2.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7649938.post-8506696286971951548</id><published>2011-08-26T22:29:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2011-08-26T22:38:38.574+08:00</updated><title type='text'>LOL</title><content type='html'>Today i got shouted by an old man in his 50s/60s 'Bodoh; TWICE. &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;:(&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I was walking to the gantry at the MRT and signal to the old man (let's call him BDguy) that I am intending to cross. Ok I was walking towards the gantry while he was walking in a direction across. So i said, "Sorry" to inform him of my intention to walk past him in order to avoid collision.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;To my dismay, he continued his way and bumped into me. Ok, what frightened me or shocked me the most was because he had a big belly...so technically my left arm collided with his belly AND IT'S SUPER WEIRD. it's like you can feel the buoyancy? Jitao scary max....&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;hehe&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;So I apologized to him again (for having physical contact with his belly when really you can't say that it's my fault but oh well) and tapped my card into the MRT.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;hehehehe&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;that was when I heard him yelled, "Bohdoh!!!" kekeke. It is the kind of situation where I would have giggled with my friends if I wasn't alone lol I just ignored and walked my way because I know it'll just antagonize him further :D I WILL NEVER TURN BACK AND SAY SORRY THE THIRD TIME. Hey! I was the one who had to experience that belly buoyancy that is probably going to scar me for life ok?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;As I was taking the escalator, he shouted "BODOHHHH!" yet again....I can't help but smirk a little.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Not going to lie, i was actually quite scared. I was afraid he might tap in just to tell me bodoh in my face but i figured what a waste of money for him and yea, it's funny because I felt like a kid.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Like I am protected by the gantry and he's outside, helpless kekeke&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Well that's what I wanted to blog about since it's not everyday someone shouts bodoh twice at me and also it's disgusting. The collision experience...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;It felt like he was 顶-ing my arm with his belly...CAN FEEL NEWTON'S THIRD LAW CAN???!!!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I swear I never hope to feel such buoyancy from a stranger's belly again.... Hmmm, thinking about it, this just means that the collision could have been avoided if he was slimmer?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;JUSTSAYING.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;But oh well, fun fun :)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7649938-8506696286971951548?l=angiesecondblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://angiesecondblog.blogspot.com/feeds/8506696286971951548/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7649938&amp;postID=8506696286971951548&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7649938/posts/default/8506696286971951548'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7649938/posts/default/8506696286971951548'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://angiesecondblog.blogspot.com/2011/08/lol.html' title='LOL'/><author><name>Angie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10483082194686115747</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='16' src='http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v382/Aqchua/angie2.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7649938.post-817985346625665099</id><published>2011-08-24T05:15:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2011-08-24T05:26:23.937+08:00</updated><title type='text'>One way?</title><content type='html'>There must be a happier way to living.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Everyone is trying their best to live. Different ways to living. But there must be a happier way to living right? Perspective? Why are we trying so hard to live? Shouldn't it be an instinctive trait?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7649938-817985346625665099?l=angiesecondblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://angiesecondblog.blogspot.com/feeds/817985346625665099/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7649938&amp;postID=817985346625665099&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7649938/posts/default/817985346625665099'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7649938/posts/default/817985346625665099'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://angiesecondblog.blogspot.com/2011/08/one-way.html' title='One way?'/><author><name>Angie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10483082194686115747</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='16' src='http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v382/Aqchua/angie2.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7649938.post-2727814110237089490</id><published>2011-08-16T04:01:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2011-08-16T04:07:28.193+08:00</updated><title type='text'>NAISE.</title><content type='html'>Man, i don't get why people cannot be nice?&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Why do people have to put on that 24/7 "I am grumpy and I think you look like someone who owes me money" face?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Gosh. Don't they actually understand the fact that, a smile can brighten up someone's day?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Like there was once I was greeted "good morning" by my classmates back in secondary school and I FELT SO HAPPY. From that day onwards, i actually greeted others good morning...until I forgot. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I mean. Happiness are doubled when shared.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Well for some reason there ARE people who don't reciprocate smiles. Not that I mind but bear in mind, I have another theory in life, "If people don't like me, I don't like them either."&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I don't try to please. If smiling isn't your cup of tea, ok fine. Leave you alone.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;But I am not really talking about the context in terms of friends but rather staffs? I mean, gosh would it kill for you to be nice? or maybe less grumpy in your tone of voice? Do you know the power of tone and speech? It can brighten and also do the opposite.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;PEOPLE. IF WE ALL UNDERSTAND THE THEORY OF PAY IT FORWARD....gosh&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;people understand. THEY JUST DON'T CARE ENOUGH TO EXECUTE IT.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;and then this vicious cycle goes on. Grumpy face-&amp;gt;2grumpy faces-&amp;gt;3grumpy faces....&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;ahhhhhh&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;ramblings&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7649938-2727814110237089490?l=angiesecondblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://angiesecondblog.blogspot.com/feeds/2727814110237089490/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7649938&amp;postID=2727814110237089490&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7649938/posts/default/2727814110237089490'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7649938/posts/default/2727814110237089490'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://angiesecondblog.blogspot.com/2011/08/naise.html' title='NAISE.'/><author><name>Angie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10483082194686115747</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='16' src='http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v382/Aqchua/angie2.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7649938.post-7817992208978646029</id><published>2011-08-14T21:30:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2011-08-14T21:37:01.122+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Cook.</title><content type='html'>I tried making &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;s'mores&lt;/span&gt; today with digestives biscuits, marshmallows and Hershey's chocolate.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Utter disaster.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I was too distracted and didn't notice that the marshmallows were rapidly expanding. So much so that it went way over its supposed size. ~_~&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Well, I continued anyway. I mean what's expanded already expanded. I placed that block of chocolate onto the marshmallows and it instantaneously melted.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Do you know how dire this meant? &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Melted chocolate with vulnerably cracking biscuits holding them. *sighs*&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I kind of conclude I am not meant for making any kinds of food. Sometimes i can even make instant noodles taste bad. That's how bad I am :(&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Anyways, I really feel much happier? Like backtrack to my June posts I was really like in a slump of emotions. I felt so unhappy and disappointed in humanity I thought I was going to suffocate in this pool of sadness. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Luckily I surfaced from this pool and got to breathe in the air of relief once again.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Man, back in June you have no idea how down I felt and how I hated being a human. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;lmao&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;GLAD TO BE OUT OF THAT SLUMP. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7649938-7817992208978646029?l=angiesecondblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://angiesecondblog.blogspot.com/feeds/7817992208978646029/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7649938&amp;postID=7817992208978646029&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7649938/posts/default/7817992208978646029'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7649938/posts/default/7817992208978646029'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://angiesecondblog.blogspot.com/2011/08/cook.html' title='Cook.'/><author><name>Angie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10483082194686115747</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='16' src='http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v382/Aqchua/angie2.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7649938.post-4359758003743525755</id><published>2011-08-10T01:08:00.007+08:00</published><updated>2011-08-10T01:51:58.709+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Humanity</title><content type='html'>I will actually say pray for humanity.&lt;div&gt;somehow we seem to have lost what was considered humane to begin with.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;You can start a protest because of unjust, but when you take advantage of the situation, that's just crossing the line. If you can't even be humane, then don't even try to be human. Wait, even animals are nicer and more rational than some people out there.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Animals only hurt others for survival or when they feel threatened.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;And what do some people hurt for? For frivolous reasons. "Oh, let me steal your things and beat the crap out of you because I feel angry...angry FOR NOTHING"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Gosh, go vent your raging hormones on something productive. When something's sick, we find a cure for it. Or at least, alleviate the situation. Well, right now, I feel that besides global warming, there is something really really wrong with humanity. These are not natural disasters we are talking about, these are actual people hurting people for non justifiable reasons.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;You can't even figure out what went wrong to start with. And we call ourselves Human or the 'more intelligent species". /facepalm.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;to me probably it's just you can choose to screw up your own life but please please don't do it to others.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;oh and anyways, I would also like to talk about 'hate'.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I don't think I have ever hated anything/anyone longer than a week. Or at all. I am too lazy to hate. It's so tiring to hate I don't even know how one manages it. Well, maybe because I don't really have any reasons to hate. So I don't really get why people hate.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I mean if you don't like it, fine. just leave things alone. Hating isn't going solve anything. Don't like something? Try changing it then. "Change what you can't accept. Accept what you can't change."&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There's no need for hatred.  Hating is just too tiring. Please, disliking is already so troublesome, what more such an extreme feeling.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;It could be because I am still young. But as of now, I rather find things to like and love than to focus on things to hate and dislike.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7649938-4359758003743525755?l=angiesecondblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://angiesecondblog.blogspot.com/feeds/4359758003743525755/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7649938&amp;postID=4359758003743525755&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7649938/posts/default/4359758003743525755'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7649938/posts/default/4359758003743525755'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://angiesecondblog.blogspot.com/2011/08/i-will-actually-say-pray-for-humanity.html' title='Humanity'/><author><name>Angie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10483082194686115747</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='16' src='http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v382/Aqchua/angie2.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7649938.post-935973725904314153</id><published>2011-08-06T00:58:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2011-08-06T01:01:44.249+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Personal'/><title type='text'>Family :)</title><content type='html'>My family rarely sits down together to eat at home. What more outside.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;So on August 5th, my mother, brother and I went to dine out at Swensen's.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I am happy. Because it's so precious and rare for us to eat together&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I hope for one day where my whole family of 4 can dine out regularly!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7649938-935973725904314153?l=angiesecondblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://angiesecondblog.blogspot.com/feeds/935973725904314153/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7649938&amp;postID=935973725904314153&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7649938/posts/default/935973725904314153'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7649938/posts/default/935973725904314153'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://angiesecondblog.blogspot.com/2011/08/family.html' title='Family :)'/><author><name>Angie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10483082194686115747</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='16' src='http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v382/Aqchua/angie2.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7649938.post-7676851586441134026</id><published>2011-07-23T23:43:00.012+08:00</published><updated>2011-07-24T15:02:20.713+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='deathly hallows'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='harry potter'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='movie'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='afterthoughts'/><title type='text'>Movie- Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows Part 2</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-CNhhzvl3ygk/TisZYFdHIdI/AAAAAAAAAvk/EwgtRP4llsU/s1600/harry-potter-deathly-hallows-part-2-snape-poster-01.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 216px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-CNhhzvl3ygk/TisZYFdHIdI/AAAAAAAAAvk/EwgtRP4llsU/s320/harry-potter-deathly-hallows-part-2-snape-poster-01.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5632623660528771538" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;Bated breath. &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;That was what it was. I didn't dare to breathe, afraid to leave out any significant detail because of breathing. Absurd. But true. The silence in the cinema was dramatic. Every single person was anticipating, afraid to move. Afraid that a single movement would ignite a distraction. This was how amazing the movie was. It was well executed and my eyes were quite literally feasting on the graphics. If there was anything that I found disrupting to this serenity or the intense momentum of the movie, it was probably the kiss scenes. I found them pretty abrupt and out of place. As though they were shown just for the sake of showing. Nonetheless and obviously, the pros of the movie very well made these 'disruptions' negligible.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Now, moving on to the actual story line of the movie.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Holding onto straws and pretending that they were the elder wand(s).  Needless to say, I was truly overwhelmed by each and every scene of the movie. Part 2 started out rather light-hearted for me with Hermione impersonating as Bellatrix and her failing miserably. It was rather gasp worthy when they were inside the vault and the gold just kept multiplying-hindering Harry's advancement towards the horcrux and one can't help but curse silently at the globin's act (well, good thing he was killed. good job Voldemort)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;One of the more memorable scenes (not the most) for me was at the gathering of the students in Hogwarts. (on a side note, the gathering location seem to have been much smaller than usual) Not when Harry Potter stepped out, not when the camera zoomed in on Cho Chang; as a reference to how she sold Dumbledore's Army in OOTP but on Professor Mcgonall. I have full praise for her performance in this film despite the little time she had. She didn't appeared much, but whenever she did, she made an impression.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;The moment she stood out and made a 180 degrees turn and faced Snape, I so wanted to give her a standing ovation. The way she stood with dignity and pride and her expression showed of a true Gryffindor. Her constant and rapid spells towards Snape were just another exhibit of her strong personality.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Although, I have a little grunt about how she was being kind of discriminating towards Slytherin by sending the whole house to the dungeon when only one spoke of the undesirable. I mean, come on, SNAPE MY HERO was from Slytherin. But as usual, since it was only a small part, it didn't nag on me.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-SZril41tfaI/TivCIb_SGPI/AAAAAAAAAvs/A7Lkzshrot0/s1600/hp1.png" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 90px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-SZril41tfaI/TivCIb_SGPI/AAAAAAAAAvs/A7Lkzshrot0/s320/hp1.png" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5632809209164863730" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;When Mcgonall went, &lt;i&gt;"I always wanted to cast this  spell",&lt;/i&gt; it was so adorable. Seeing the usual strict and stern professor go all 'fangirling' on casting a spell made everyone go "Awwww". I mean, it &lt;b&gt;is &lt;/b&gt;a once in a lifetime experience to cast THAT spell. In addition, when she told the guards to protect Hogwarts, it was kind of emotional for me. Like, yeah, this is it. The impending war has finally befall upon us and we are on 100% defense. &lt;i&gt;We&lt;/i&gt;. I felt like I am part of Hogwarts. Not a bystander, but fighting alongside with them. I mean, growing up with Harry Potter just kind of does that to you *shrugs*&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;And...The protective charm around Hogwarts was&lt;b&gt; SPECTACULAR&lt;/b&gt;. Seeing every wizard from the order combining their powers to form that protective charm felt so reassuring. It was really a moment where we froze and focus all our attention at how the charm was formed. Awed. It was like magic.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-iHsESAnAzaQ/TivCI2JAJPI/AAAAAAAAAwE/0oSAZM-xR7c/s1600/hp4.png" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 130px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-iHsESAnAzaQ/TivCI2JAJPI/AAAAAAAAAwE/0oSAZM-xR7c/s320/hp4.png" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5632809216184952050" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Of course, Voldemort and his army of death eaters tried in their futile attempts to penetrate the protective charm. It was equally spectacular to see all the glow travelled from their wands to Hogwarts. Kind of like 4th of July. (opps lame joke) The protective charm stood strong and I felt good once again. Like, "You can't break this". Well, eventually the charm did collapse after Voldemort's outrage. but the purpose was served-to delay and buy time for Harry.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-ZtCNMVkFTqs/TivCIhmeT-I/AAAAAAAAAv0/lxNr2QTOuew/s1600/hp2.png" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 135px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-ZtCNMVkFTqs/TivCIhmeT-I/AAAAAAAAAv0/lxNr2QTOuew/s320/hp2.png" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5632809210671419362" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;When the death eaters aimlessly ran into the charm, it was so funny especially with Longbottom's taunting act. And props to Neville as he finally shone in this movie. I just recalled the part where he asked Mcgonall, "Are you giving us permission to blow this up? Like boom?" That was pure comedic relief :)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;And now onto the pre-revelation of the hero. Where Voldemort confronts Snape on his inability to control the Elder Wand. It was gruesome and almost painful to watch (or hear) the snake's brutal attack; reducing Snape to nothing-not in a literal sense. I believe it has to do with a fact that we all know Snape's a good guy and to see him die in such a gory death was just unbecoming of someone his status. But he died honourably and shall always be honoured in the Harry Potter fandom.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;When the trio went into the room, I was like, "OMG WHY AREN'T THEY TRYING TO HEAL HIM OR ANYTHING? WHY?" I badly didn't want to see him go. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;His last words,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt; "You have your mother's eyes"&lt;/blockquote&gt; spoke of nothing but his devoted or even foolish love for Lily Potter. It was heart wrenching. Until his very last breath, all he could think of or even speak of, was of his beloved. His only love. Only a love that's so powerful and strong can enable a man to sacrifice everything that holds in his future and dedicate his life to protect her child-that wasn't even connected to him in the slightest sense and a boy that reminded him of his most hated.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ztOPyZ3cmI8/TivCI5S4X2I/AAAAAAAAAv8/hQwWCuNHkSU/s1600/hp3.png" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 145px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ztOPyZ3cmI8/TivCI5S4X2I/AAAAAAAAAv8/hQwWCuNHkSU/s320/hp3.png" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5632809217031692130" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Some may call him a fool but I guess for Snape, it was anything but foolish. I don't know what it is but I believe mere words cannot describe or even come close to portraying his feelings for Lily.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;b&gt;[the following paragraph contains some of my personal emotions which may be deemed highly unprofessional BUT I HAD TO. so if you are looking for some calm afterthoughts, you can skip this para]&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I bawled throughout the pensieve scene where flashbacks of Snape's life ran through on the big screen. You can't help but just feel a little enraged by how unfair life was to him. When she was being called 'freak', he was there to comfort her. He was always there. But what did the darn sorting hat do? Sort her into a house similar to James Potter who has utterly no relevance to this whole series except being Harry's father. What did Lily do when Potter harassed Snape? She told Potter to stop AFTER Snape was hung on that tree. What did Snape do when Petunia called Lily freak? He made her forget about the nasty remarks and put a smile on her face. No offence to the late Lily Potter but seriously, WERE YOU EVEN THERE AS A FRIEND FOR HIM?I MEAN AREN'T YOU LIKE CHILDHOOD FRIENDS? At first I thought, ok Snape has a crush on Lily, fine. But when I realised they knew each other from young I was like "OH MY GOD. LILY YOU NEED TO GET YOUR ACT TOGETHER" And gosh, Harry should really apologize to Snape when he told him not to say anything bad about his father. ALL SNAPE TOLD HIM WAS THE TRUTH. My respect for James Potter fell to a new found low after this movie. It was unbearable.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Snape need not be under Dumbledore's orders. Snape need not. Why did he then? Because he wanted to make sure Lily could escape death. He only wanted to make sure the person he loves can be left unscathed. Not only did he not attain his wish, he had to become an undercover, misunderstood by every single person. Dumbledore, on the other hand, becomes the good person. I know I shouldn't feel irate towards Dumbledore, but I can't help it. It feels like he betrayed my trust I established throughout the 6 films/books. 10 years mind you. 10 years. On a side note, young Severus is really quite a looker and why is young james potter not donning jet-black hair? ~_~&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Enough outrage, now onto the ending of the movie. I am kind of feeling less enthusiastic about this because for me, the best scene was the revelation of Snape's past. It was the highlight of the whole movie(to me). Oh, and when Harry realised Snape's patronus was a doe and when I found out that Snape was the one who cast the patronus to protect Harry back in POA, i felt like crying like a little girl who lost her candy. Because this is how heartbreaking it is. Can you imagine being in his shoes? It's...unbearable.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Ok, so let's now travel to the forbidden forest because even Fred's death pales in comparison to Snape's past. I am sorry Fred's fans, but I honestly didn't feel much. I was too taken aback by Snape's past. So before we actually arrive at the forest, we arrive at the steps where Hermione and Ron were showing their affection for no particular reason. The way Hermione looked at Harry and knew he was courting his doom was...special. The bond these 2 friends shared. She dreaded to see her friend go, but she knew, he has to. That hug was significant because they both knew, it could very well be their last.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;And kaboom! The resurrection stone came into place. mind you, when I saw Lily Potter's and James Potter's ghost, I was a little outraged but oh well, I need to think of the bigger picture. Harry IS going to face Voldemort. It was only then did I noticed how dark the whole movie was. The part where Harry was in his own head talking to Dumbledore. It blinded the whole cinema for a moment. To some, this scene may be significant but to me it was only impressionable because of how white it was.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Can I award the coolest hair color to Mrs Malfoy? I think she nailed it with the black and white hair. And darn, is she a good actress. One moment she was trembling with fear and anticipation, "Is he alive? Is Draco alive?" Another moment she was turning around with her stone cold face, "Dead." Truly applaud her. To be able to act in front of Volemort, how brilliant is that?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Oh, don't get me started on Ginny's outburst when she knew Harry was dead. I shall leave her for another post.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then came Mrs Weasly and Bellatrix's battle. Honestly, I wished it could be a little more epic. But when Mrs Weasly warned "Not my girl" and triumphed, a sense of pure relief and gladness just washed over. Bellatrix, finally gone for good. That smirk on Mrs Weasly's face is sure to be shared by many others in the audience ;)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Ok, so let's move on to the final battle. I'm a little sad with how Hermione didn't get to cast more spells in this movie (i'm not so sure about the book) . I mean with her knowledge, she could have cast SO MANY relevant spells.  But i guess time constraint or maybe it just wasn't in the book. Anyways, our dear Harry Potter is finally face to face with his arch nemesis since birth. And this time, he can no longer fail. The battle of the red and green rendered me rather speechless. It was amazing. When Neville slayed the snake and the elder wand faltered, I knew. I knew it was the end. A touch of sadness embraced me. 10 years. It all ends here.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Albus Severus Potter is cute. Really cute and Hermione's still as beautiful.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;One thing I liked about this movie is that it shows how Harry could have never defeat Voldemort without the help of his friends. I found this concept really endearing. He wasn't those typical hero whereby we go, "Harry's here to save the day. let's all just standby and watch him kill the bad guys." No. it was, "Harry needs us. We need to help him" It's truly warming to see his friends battling death because they knew, this wasn't a one man's job. If they really desire to defeat the Dark Lord, they have to come together. Step up. Cowardice begets nothing. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Touched. Overwhelmed. Emotional.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Harry Potter. Truly a magical series. Harry Potter is more than a book; more than a film. Harry Potter is magic. You know when we use the expression, "Wow, this is like magic." it's just like that, if not even more.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And thank you to all the wonderful people who worked to put this film together. It didn't disappoint and for that, I can only show my appreciation in my humble muggle way; A salute.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7649938-7676851586441134026?l=angiesecondblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://angiesecondblog.blogspot.com/feeds/7676851586441134026/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7649938&amp;postID=7676851586441134026&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7649938/posts/default/7676851586441134026'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7649938/posts/default/7676851586441134026'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://angiesecondblog.blogspot.com/2011/07/movie-harry-potter-and-deathly-hallows.html' title='Movie- Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows Part 2'/><author><name>Angie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10483082194686115747</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='16' src='http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v382/Aqchua/angie2.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-CNhhzvl3ygk/TisZYFdHIdI/AAAAAAAAAvk/EwgtRP4llsU/s72-c/harry-potter-deathly-hallows-part-2-snape-poster-01.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7649938.post-4480868880636935653</id><published>2011-07-23T02:17:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2011-07-23T02:26:05.027+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='ipod touch'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='school'/><title type='text'>Small talks</title><content type='html'>So the other day while I was queuing up at UHC for my medical checkup, I actually did small talks. It was so ridiculous I found myself baffling. Was a few hours of being alone with no one to talk to so fearful? Was it so unbearable that I resorted to talking without even being bothered to ask for names? &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;You know, people make small talks because they feel that they want to know the other party better. So they ask for their names. For me it was like, "you're alone, I'm alone. Shit, I feel the urge to talk to you."  Like you know, 2 lonely people in an unfamiliar environment, let's talk.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Gosh. I really do apologize for the insignificance of my conversation to the 2 people I talked to. I find my reason for talking almost disrespectful. "Let's talk for the sake of talking" I am so guilt ridden now. I feel that I destroyed the gift and purpose of talking.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When you are not even keen to know another's name but you start a conversation; it's just so bad and rude :( to my knowledge, this is probably the first time I did that. Like really succumb to my instinct or urge to talk. Gosh, it wasn't even near befriending. Shoot me please.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7649938-4480868880636935653?l=angiesecondblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://angiesecondblog.blogspot.com/feeds/4480868880636935653/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7649938&amp;postID=4480868880636935653&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7649938/posts/default/4480868880636935653'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7649938/posts/default/4480868880636935653'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://angiesecondblog.blogspot.com/2011/07/small-talks.html' title='Small talks'/><author><name>Angie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10483082194686115747</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='16' src='http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v382/Aqchua/angie2.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7649938.post-372039161095726051</id><published>2011-07-19T03:38:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2011-07-20T18:19:53.677+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Fish clouds/ Mutated seaweed</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-OoDo4NKuvj4/TiarECxy7UI/AAAAAAAAAvE/BbcU7WN_tfc/s1600/photo%2B%25283%2529.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-OoDo4NKuvj4/TiarECxy7UI/AAAAAAAAAvE/BbcU7WN_tfc/s320/photo%2B%25283%2529.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5631376470026939714" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today, I thought that the clouds looked like fishes and so I took a photo. Couldn't really take a good one because i was afraid of how other &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;passerbys&lt;/span&gt; would stare at me -.-&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-mdlmKtK7pYI/TiarEDiT4FI/AAAAAAAAAu8/dULn7VOWZkw/s1600/photo%2B%25282%2529.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-mdlmKtK7pYI/TiarEDiT4FI/AAAAAAAAAu8/dULn7VOWZkw/s320/photo%2B%25282%2529.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5631376470230425682" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-rJvlt1Feprw/TiarD_mzv8I/AAAAAAAAAu0/6GIzPlzGt3w/s1600/photo%2B%25281%2529.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-rJvlt1Feprw/TiarD_mzv8I/AAAAAAAAAu0/6GIzPlzGt3w/s320/photo%2B%25281%2529.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5631376469175549890" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today, I went out with &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Yunqi&lt;/span&gt; and &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;Jianhong&lt;/span&gt;. We did something really dumb. Shall not elaborate to keep our image but in case I forget I shall just insert some keywords&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1.Mutated cabbage&lt;br /&gt;2.&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;Ajisen&lt;/span&gt; have changed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Later on we went to get the 1-for-1 chocolate melts and talked about calories &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;rofl&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;end of my &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;july&lt;/span&gt; 19.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7649938-372039161095726051?l=angiesecondblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://angiesecondblog.blogspot.com/feeds/372039161095726051/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7649938&amp;postID=372039161095726051&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7649938/posts/default/372039161095726051'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7649938/posts/default/372039161095726051'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://angiesecondblog.blogspot.com/2011/07/fish-clouds-mutated-seaweed.html' title='Fish clouds/ Mutated seaweed'/><author><name>Angie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10483082194686115747</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='16' src='http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v382/Aqchua/angie2.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-OoDo4NKuvj4/TiarECxy7UI/AAAAAAAAAvE/BbcU7WN_tfc/s72-c/photo%2B%25283%2529.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7649938.post-4934567293253319555</id><published>2011-07-17T17:02:00.004+08:00</published><updated>2011-07-17T17:16:11.461+08:00</updated><title type='text'>don't be bothered by someone else's opinions or judgement of you.</title><content type='html'>don't ever let someone who doesn't matter get you down.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;maybe it's time to tell ourselves that we need to live our own lives. when someone tells you how to live your life, tell them to shut up because it is your life they are talking about.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7649938-4934567293253319555?l=angiesecondblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://angiesecondblog.blogspot.com/feeds/4934567293253319555/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7649938&amp;postID=4934567293253319555&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7649938/posts/default/4934567293253319555'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7649938/posts/default/4934567293253319555'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://angiesecondblog.blogspot.com/2011/07/dont-be-bothered-by-others-opinions-or.html' title='don&apos;t be bothered by someone else&apos;s opinions or judgement of you.'/><author><name>Angie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10483082194686115747</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='16' src='http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v382/Aqchua/angie2.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7649938.post-4834002897367517266</id><published>2011-07-16T22:46:00.006+08:00</published><updated>2011-07-16T22:57:33.734+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Up Up and about</title><content type='html'>While walking back home, I looked up and stared at the night sky. &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;That was when I pondered, "Why do people aspire to be soaring in the skies but not being underground? Why is it considered 'better' to be up rather than down?"&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;If the earth we are stepping on is the zero reference, then does it matter if we travelled up or down? Why do we desire the skies and dread underground? "Maybe it's because the skies seem boundless while the ground is bounded." I thought&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;In the skies, there is nothing to obstruct or hinder your movement. Relief embraces when I look up to the sky. It's as though for that moment, time stopped. Any problems I have is forgotten. A pleasant feeling.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Humans sought freedom. Even when we are given plenty. We want to attain the idealistic amount of freedom where we can forgo all responsibilities or concern. That said, an ideology will remain as one and as mere mortals we can only look up to the sky and enjoy that moment of tranquility.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7649938-4834002897367517266?l=angiesecondblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://angiesecondblog.blogspot.com/feeds/4834002897367517266/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7649938&amp;postID=4834002897367517266&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7649938/posts/default/4834002897367517266'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7649938/posts/default/4834002897367517266'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://angiesecondblog.blogspot.com/2011/07/up-up-and-about.html' title='Up Up and about'/><author><name>Angie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10483082194686115747</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='16' src='http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v382/Aqchua/angie2.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7649938.post-5721717335202475448</id><published>2011-07-14T00:54:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2011-07-14T01:04:13.703+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Lean On Me</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Tahoma, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px; "&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;Lean on me! &lt;br /&gt;When you're not strong&lt;br /&gt;And I'll be your friend&lt;br /&gt;I'll help you carry on&lt;br /&gt;For it won't be long&lt;br /&gt;'Till I'm gonna need&lt;br /&gt;Somebody to lean on&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hi friends and people I may not know. I truly adore the lyrcis to "Lean On Me". I am going to write something I always want to say but felt that it was too cheesy to.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am bad at coaxing people, I am bad at HTHT, I am mildly interested in your life, I don't probe about what is happening in your lives but that doesn't mean I don't feel sad when you are sad.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When you type something down on any virtual social networking tool, I'll monitor for a while. See whether anyone has replied to you. If no, I'll just ignore them for a while and wait to see if you have recovered. If you have not and the angsty/sad posts continue, I will try and lighten up your mood (in hope).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All I want to say is that, maybe no one is replying to your tweets, post or comments on being sad/angsty but it doesn't mean no one cares. I am not trying to say I am great or what but just feel that I need to let you know there's always someone out there who is finding it hard to put their concern in words; afraid of aggravating the situation.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I feel like a bad friend most of the time who doesn't deserve all my awesome friends. When I say I am mildly interested in my friends' love affairs or whatever, I MEAN IT. -.- So... yeah, I may not be able to give advice, but if you need someone to rant to, and just be silent or just nod her head from time to time. Yea, you can DM me hahhahaa (if you really find that you have no one to talk to).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;SO what I am really really trying to put across is, Lean On Me. Even if you are a random stranger who randomly stumble upon this, just know there is always someone there to lean on.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;WHAT PSA AM I DOING LOL bye.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7649938-5721717335202475448?l=angiesecondblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://angiesecondblog.blogspot.com/feeds/5721717335202475448/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7649938&amp;postID=5721717335202475448&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7649938/posts/default/5721717335202475448'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7649938/posts/default/5721717335202475448'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://angiesecondblog.blogspot.com/2011/07/lean-on-me.html' title='Lean On Me'/><author><name>Angie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10483082194686115747</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='16' src='http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v382/Aqchua/angie2.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7649938.post-4757500056765016631</id><published>2011-07-12T02:29:00.004+08:00</published><updated>2011-07-12T02:57:48.283+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='ipod touch'/><title type='text'>Balance</title><content type='html'>A lot of thoughts tonight, but I cannot string them into one coherent topic. Hence, it is a little hard to type anything out there's just so much thoughts swirling in my mind. Right now, my sea of thoughts is like a whirlpool... Let me try and analyze one by one...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;First thought is probably how we should never let someone else put us down with their words or actions. It's freaking hard I will say. It is impossible not to let anyone affect you negatively and make you feel bad about yourself. Words, expressions, attitude can make one doubt, hate, detest himself. I am not going to say, "don't let it bother you" because it will. Just don't let it bother you too much. I strongly believe that no one has the right to make another feel worse about themselves. I am talking about aimless insults and not constructive criticism.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Honestly speaking there have been many times i feel so useless about my life that I even wonder what is the point. I feel lousy about myself. I kind of label this stage a slump. Sinking into this slump, nothing seems to cheer you up; even if it does, it's only temporary. I wonder if any of you feel the same way? It kind of stinks not to have a practical talent. Plus I want to tell you, my friends that I am quite a deep person. My heart sinks a little when people think I am just who I am on the surface tsk tsp&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I guess I drifted from the topic -.- see that's what happens when I write as a first person. Xxxx&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Back to the topic, I had this theory when I was young that everything comes in opposite pairs. Like pros and cons, good and bad. So as an individual, I have family and friends who like me, but there will definitely be people who dislike me. That, i feel is a fact that we need to learn to embrace. If we expect the whole world to like us then we will probably be left very very disappointed. I guess what I am really trying to say is that, even if a million people detest you(figuratively speaking, if there were really millions of people who disliked you, there's probably something you should change..) as long as you have a few people who loves you then it will balances out. It funny how a single positive thing can wipe out the thousands of negativity in our lives.we only need a flower to forget about the storm. We only need someone to share an umbrella with us to brighten up our day. A simple act if kindness can brush a lousy past away. A simple smile can give a little happiness.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well that's not the reason I smile so much though... Smiling just became a habit of mine *shrugs*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This post is an ultimate fail because the topic sentence and the content dont fit at all orz.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7649938-4757500056765016631?l=angiesecondblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://angiesecondblog.blogspot.com/feeds/4757500056765016631/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7649938&amp;postID=4757500056765016631&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7649938/posts/default/4757500056765016631'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7649938/posts/default/4757500056765016631'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://angiesecondblog.blogspot.com/2011/07/balance.html' title='Balance'/><author><name>Angie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10483082194686115747</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='16' src='http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v382/Aqchua/angie2.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7649938.post-9013197630913658243</id><published>2011-07-11T20:32:00.005+08:00</published><updated>2011-07-11T21:09:09.838+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='food story'/><title type='text'>[Story] Rare Spanish Beauty</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="MsoNormal" align="center" style="text-align:center"&gt;&lt;b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal"&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language:EN-US"&gt;Rare Spanish beauty&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language:EN-US"&gt;I was absolutely mesmerized by this beauty. Tanned brown skin glistened with cinnamon beads. I stared. Not because I want to but because I couldn't tear my eyes away. It wasn't attraction I felt, it was desire. I was not contented with staring, I wanted more. I wanted to devour and sink my teeth into that grilled skin. I wanted to savour every inch of this beauty. This rare Spanish beauty. I swallowed my saliva and thought hard. How was I going to satisfy my growing hunger? How? Then, just like a lightning bolt, an idea struck me. I hid behind the pillar, observing my target’s every move; or rather not moving. Still and stationary my target was. “This only made things easier, so much more easier” I smirked as I thought to myself.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language:EN-US"&gt;Sweet victory is mine.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language:EN-US"&gt;Once the coast was cleared, I sprinted towards the glass door, eyes never leaving my target. I grabbed onto my target with a tight grip, not concern with the perplexed look on the storekeeper's face. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language:EN-US"&gt;"There." I said as I slammed a 2 dollar note onto the counter.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;He stood rooted to the ground, frozen. He was obviously dumbfounded by my athletic moves I displayed during my journey from the store's entrance to my target. 2 somersaults and a backflip. Not giving him enough time to recover, I exited the shop while embracing my target...&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;[unveiling my spanish beauty below]&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;-&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;-&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;-&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;-&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;-&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;-&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;-&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;-&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;-&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;-&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;-&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;-&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;-&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;-&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;-&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;-&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;-&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;-&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;-&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;-&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;-&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;-&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://25.media.tumblr.com/tumblr_lo3bx9Da441qm0xgqo1_500.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"&gt;&lt;img style="text-align: left;display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; cursor: pointer; width: 500px; height: 333px; " src="http://25.media.tumblr.com/tumblr_lo3bx9Da441qm0xgqo1_500.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;pardon any errors, I didn't read the 'story' a second time. yes, this story is about my desire for churros ~_~ Anyway, I have another similar post (few years ago), but the main character was abalone -.-&lt;a href="http://angiesecondblog.blogspot.com/2006/08/my-confession-i-have-noticed-him-for.html"&gt; Link&lt;/a&gt; Oh, Me and my affection for food. [scarily, I also found a post about me thinking of dating abalone... link &lt;a href="http://angiesecondblog.blogspot.com/2006/06/i-thought-about-some-things.html"&gt;here&lt;/a&gt; for your entertainment]&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I figured while I am at the edge of food insanity, why not add in a rap or a poem for my dear churros?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;b&gt;Rare Spanish Beauty- Poem.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Oh, your charred grilled skin and  lovely cinnamon beads&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I would never tear my eyes away from these beautiful deeds&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Why oh why do we have to be apart?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;One in the West and one in the South&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Not able to make a single sound&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;'Hush, Hush' I say, churros churros we'll definitely meet&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Days with meat only meant as a substitute&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;For your place can never be disputed&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Days with a cake or chinese youtiao can never replace how you once tasted on my buds&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;So I say hush hush churros churros, &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;you'll always be reblogged on my awesome tumblr blog.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;By Angie Chua&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;i am awesome. i know thanks.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7649938-9013197630913658243?l=angiesecondblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://angiesecondblog.blogspot.com/feeds/9013197630913658243/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7649938&amp;postID=9013197630913658243&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7649938/posts/default/9013197630913658243'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7649938/posts/default/9013197630913658243'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://angiesecondblog.blogspot.com/2011/07/story-rare-spanish-beauty.html' title='[Story] Rare Spanish Beauty'/><author><name>Angie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10483082194686115747</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='16' src='http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v382/Aqchua/angie2.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7649938.post-4035504228683596898</id><published>2011-07-09T00:05:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2011-07-09T00:06:12.041+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Child photos</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-C5T2nx2XeLk/Thcq2FcCSKI/AAAAAAAAAuo/jc8GKPYFXwc/s1600/likeaboss.png" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 280px; height: 263px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-C5T2nx2XeLk/Thcq2FcCSKI/AAAAAAAAAuo/jc8GKPYFXwc/s320/likeaboss.png" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5627013368083794082" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;LIKE A BOSS&lt;i&gt; since young&lt;/i&gt;.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7649938-4035504228683596898?l=angiesecondblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://angiesecondblog.blogspot.com/feeds/4035504228683596898/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7649938&amp;postID=4035504228683596898&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7649938/posts/default/4035504228683596898'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7649938/posts/default/4035504228683596898'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://angiesecondblog.blogspot.com/2011/07/child-photos.html' title='Child photos'/><author><name>Angie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10483082194686115747</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='16' src='http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v382/Aqchua/angie2.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-C5T2nx2XeLk/Thcq2FcCSKI/AAAAAAAAAuo/jc8GKPYFXwc/s72-c/likeaboss.png' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7649938.post-9073501502675859704</id><published>2011-07-08T01:44:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2011-07-08T01:47:55.056+08:00</updated><title type='text'>FUN PACK SONG MV</title><content type='html'>this video was made for fun. video clips from bad romance's MV. i own nothing.&lt;br /&gt;audio ripped from youtube video.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="320" height="266" class="BLOG_video_class" id="BLOG_video-2645b2edc1cd77a4" classid="clsid:D27CDB6E-AE6D-11cf-96B8-444553540000" codebase="http://download.macromedia.com/pub/shockwave/cabs/flash/swflash.cab#version=6,0,40,0"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/get_player"&gt;&lt;param name="bgcolor" value="#FFFFFF"&gt;&lt;param name="allowfullscreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="flashvars" value="flvurl=http://v4.nonxt7.googlevideo.com/videoplayback?id%3D2645b2edc1cd77a4%26itag%3D5%26app%3Dblogger%26ip%3D0.0.0.0%26ipbits%3D0%26expire%3D1331613195%26sparams%3Did,itag,ip,ipbits,expire%26signature%3D63B7AEAB59B9CA538DEE9FC14B868F89C597DF56.33357155F423DEFFA12CE5CB7E84706D8454C486%26key%3Dck1&amp;amp;iurl=http://video.google.com/ThumbnailServer2?app%3Dblogger%26contentid%3D2645b2edc1cd77a4%26offsetms%3D5000%26itag%3Dw160%26sigh%3DxyKo9Ej--12foJPvQqpC4hHerSs&amp;amp;autoplay=0&amp;amp;ps=blogger"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/get_player" type="application/x-shockwave-flash"width="320" height="266" bgcolor="#FFFFFF"flashvars="flvurl=http://v4.nonxt7.googlevideo.com/videoplayback?id%3D2645b2edc1cd77a4%26itag%3D5%26app%3Dblogger%26ip%3D0.0.0.0%26ipbits%3D0%26expire%3D1331613195%26sparams%3Did,itag,ip,ipbits,expire%26signature%3D63B7AEAB59B9CA538DEE9FC14B868F89C597DF56.33357155F423DEFFA12CE5CB7E84706D8454C486%26key%3Dck1&amp;iurl=http://video.google.com/ThumbnailServer2?app%3Dblogger%26contentid%3D2645b2edc1cd77a4%26offsetms%3D5000%26itag%3Dw160%26sigh%3DxyKo9Ej--12foJPvQqpC4hHerSs&amp;autoplay=0&amp;ps=blogger"allowFullScreen="true" /&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7649938-9073501502675859704?l=angiesecondblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://angiesecondblog.blogspot.com/feeds/9073501502675859704/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7649938&amp;postID=9073501502675859704&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7649938/posts/default/9073501502675859704'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7649938/posts/default/9073501502675859704'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://angiesecondblog.blogspot.com/2011/07/fun-pack-song-mv.html' title='FUN PACK SONG MV'/><author><name>Angie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10483082194686115747</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='16' src='http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v382/Aqchua/angie2.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7649938.post-132088246950318029</id><published>2011-07-03T00:40:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2011-07-03T00:41:35.645+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Expressing</title><content type='html'>I am not good at expressing my emotions.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I think I get awkward with them. Like i can't... find the right words or right face to show how I feel...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I AM A AWKWARD PERSON. :(&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;you know, i reveal more things about myself on twitter than to anyone else ~_~&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;SO FAIL IN LIFE. lol&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7649938-132088246950318029?l=angiesecondblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://angiesecondblog.blogspot.com/feeds/132088246950318029/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7649938&amp;postID=132088246950318029&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7649938/posts/default/132088246950318029'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7649938/posts/default/132088246950318029'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://angiesecondblog.blogspot.com/2011/07/expressing.html' title='Expressing'/><author><name>Angie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10483082194686115747</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='16' src='http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v382/Aqchua/angie2.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7649938.post-6920744676283016940</id><published>2011-06-30T18:16:00.008+08:00</published><updated>2011-06-30T18:59:00.218+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Personal'/><title type='text'>Woman's woes</title><content type='html'>Disclaimer: males may want to skip this or even females because it's just an explanation on what ever I have been feeling about being a woman on my uterine lining.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The contractions of my muscle wall is killing me. Uterine lining shedding is a contradictory issue. It sheds, you are in pain. It doesn't, you worry about it. As I learnt from my biology class, we all know that the apparent cycle is 28days. I will always remember day 1 to 5 as the period where the lining sheds. In order to further distract myself from feeling that I am about to give birth, I shall elaborate a little more from my own point of view.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Day 1&lt;br /&gt;The day you either get a shock or welcome the enemy; depending on whether you were prepared or not. It is also the day where your emotions become so unstably raged that you feel like kicking every single pillar in the mall. You feel like every sentence out there is directed at you and you feel so damn freaking pissed about even a simple 'hi'. Example-&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"hi" "oh freak off and talk to yourself"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Something like that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Day 2&lt;br /&gt;I call this day the worst of the worst. This is the day where the muscles actively contracts themselves in hope of getting all that lining out of your system. This is the day you wish you NEVER EVER DID anything bad in your life because somehow you feel like you are being punished for your misdeeds. This is the day you really want to drink something warm, curl up in your bed like a baby and reduce the pain. This is also the day where minimal verbal action is appreciated. This is the day where you are cursing in your head asking someone to kill you; figuratively speaking.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Apart from pain, you also have to worry about being careful. This is the day you want to be home, in your room alone.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Day 3&lt;br /&gt;Depending On individuals, day 3 can just be like day 2 but usually it's a little just a little better than the previous day. The pain is no longer excruciating, it's softer pain. You can talk, go out without feeling the need to ruin someone else's day. Or simply put, without feeling the world crushin in on you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Day 4 &amp;amp; 5&lt;br /&gt;These 2 days are like the redemption period or something. Your lining has shed. The contractions kind of stop. You feel happy and cm relieved to live through this bloody cycle. You know one or two more days, all your uterine lining have shed. So you put on a smile and talk again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well obviously, I am in day 2. Day 2 is a lot of physical pain. Day 1 is like you cannot control your emotions, I felt like scolding the entire world population for their existence. &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;When I first started puberty, i had no freaking experience on muscle cramps at all. So i could not understand why other girls felt so much pain during their period. Like it literally disabled them for a few days. I always had it easy. But as I grew older, the contractions became like i don't know, so maniac or something. I know some still have it worse than me but it really really HURTS LIKE HELL.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;gosh. i am really raging right now-.-&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;i kept thinking this was the pain I am going to get when a bullet passes through my stomach or something.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;p.s. i never really wrote anything this personal on my blog or even on the net before. every time I write about an essay of opinions or stuff, i try to write them in 3rd person form so it doesn't feel too much like my opinion... But this, even when I typed 'you'. You know, I am talking about me. I hope this last sentence made sense...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7649938-6920744676283016940?l=angiesecondblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://angiesecondblog.blogspot.com/feeds/6920744676283016940/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7649938&amp;postID=6920744676283016940&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7649938/posts/default/6920744676283016940'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7649938/posts/default/6920744676283016940'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://angiesecondblog.blogspot.com/2011/06/womans-woes.html' title='Woman&apos;s woes'/><author><name>Angie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10483082194686115747</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='16' src='http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v382/Aqchua/angie2.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7649938.post-5119377112757495859</id><published>2011-06-29T16:06:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2011-06-29T16:22:37.462+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='english words'/><title type='text'>Drear</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 13px; "&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;table id="wn" style="background-color: white; "&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td valign="top" style="font-size: 10pt; "&gt;&lt;b&gt;Adj.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td valign="top" style="font-size: 10pt; "&gt;&lt;b&gt;1.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td style="font-size: 10pt; "&gt;&lt;b&gt;drear&lt;/b&gt; - causing dejection; "a blue day"; "the dark days of the war"; "a week of rainy depressing weather"; "a disconsolate winter landscape"; "the first dismal dispiriting days of November"; "a dark gloomy day"; "grim rainy weather"&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;table id="wn" style="background-color: white; "&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="font-size: 10pt; "&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Drear.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7649938-5119377112757495859?l=angiesecondblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://angiesecondblog.blogspot.com/feeds/5119377112757495859/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7649938&amp;postID=5119377112757495859&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7649938/posts/default/5119377112757495859'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7649938/posts/default/5119377112757495859'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://angiesecondblog.blogspot.com/2011/06/drear.html' title='Drear'/><author><name>Angie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10483082194686115747</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='16' src='http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v382/Aqchua/angie2.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7649938.post-4766265377077048767</id><published>2011-06-28T13:40:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2011-06-28T13:49:59.814+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='dream'/><title type='text'>Dream #2 Churros</title><content type='html'>So I dreamt about going into Subway(if I didn't remember wrongly) with my mum. The thing is this subway doesn't look at subway in real life, it's a brightly lit &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;fastfood&lt;/span&gt; restaurant style.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;The great thing about this Subway is that they sell &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Churros&lt;/span&gt;. My life long dream to eat them. So I went to purchase &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;churros&lt;/span&gt;, I remembered clearly it was $1.65 ea (wow, i am good in memorising numbers). I ordered 2. And the girl was like, "What flavours do you want? we have 3" &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I was flustered (just like the first time I went to subway), i took a few steps to my left to check out any information posters regarding the flavours. In the end, I couldn't so I just stuttered, "er.. er.."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;This is when she said, "Well, we have the Na. As in &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;nata&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;de&lt;/span&gt; coco and &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;na&lt;/span&gt;*inserts gibberish that i cannot understand*" &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Me=dumbfounded.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;"Oh well, (i cannot &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;rmb&lt;/span&gt; what she said)" &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;She proceeded to give me 2 &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;churros&lt;/span&gt;, one chocolate dipped and one not. Both sugary ;D&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;It was amazing, I went back to devour my &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;churros&lt;/span&gt; and shared them with my family (each person one bite). Funny thing is, I actually shared them with my family after taking ONE BITE.Which is quite impossible in real life as I would only share after only about less than half is left &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;When there was like a quarter long left, i suddenly noticed chocolate sauce to dip in. HEAVEN.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;end of my dream.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;such a wonderful dream. but it also depicts how desperate I am for &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9"&gt;churros&lt;/span&gt;. I blame &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10"&gt;tumblr&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/7649938-4766265377077048767?l=angiesecondblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://angiesecondblog.blogspot.com/feeds/4766265377077048767/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7649938&amp;postID=4766265377077048767&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7649938/posts/default/4766265377077048767'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7649938/posts/default/4766265377077048767'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://angiesecondblog.blogspot.com/2011/06/dream-2-churros.html' title='Dream #2 Churros'/><author><name>Angie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10483082194686115747</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='16' src='http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v382/Aqchua/angie2.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7649938.post-7722615985084583194</id><published>2011-06-26T00:17:00.004+08:00</published><updated>2011-06-28T13:49:59.816+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='dream'/><title type='text'>i dreamed of snsd</title><content type='html'>I dreamed (sidenote, is there no such word as dreamt?)  of SNSD today during my afternoon nap.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;They were actually performing in the RENOVATING CWP on the first floor. I was on the 5th floor, and i rushed down to see their perf. Funny part is because they were renovating, it was so hard to get to the 1st floor.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I CRAWLED towards a direction where I thought the stairs were (i was on the 2nd floor by now, able to see them). Then someone shouted, "there is no way down that direction" i immediately changed direction and the stairs appeared.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;So i rushed to the tables located (don't ask me why there were tables) and I was perspiring like waterfall in my dream.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;end of story.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;it was such an adventurous dream. being so close to seeing SNSD, but not able to because of all the obstacles and winding roads(literally). So crazy. My heartbeat must have went up to 100bpm&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;funny thing is I didn't even dream of their faces clearly.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;The main focus was actually on my winding roads journey down. I guess it's because i went up to the foodcourt in CWP by escalator this afternoon and it felt like 20mins. JUST TO GET UP to the 5th floor. All those renovations -.-&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;And I am really afraid of the influx of people. CWP is only like 30% completed? and the crowd is just astonishing. I can only imagine when it's 100% opened.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;~_~&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;edit: orz dreamt dreamed burnt burned ~_~&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7649938-7722615985084583194?l=angiesecondblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://angiesecondblog.blogspot.com/feeds/7722615985084583194/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7649938&amp;postID=7722615985084583194&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7649938/posts/default/7722615985084583194'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7649938/posts/default/7722615985084583194'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://angiesecondblog.blogspot.com/2011/06/i-dreamed-of-snsd.html' title='i dreamed of snsd'/><author><name>Angie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10483082194686115747</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='16' src='http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v382/Aqchua/angie2.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7649938.post-6609471740860178522</id><published>2011-06-23T20:17:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2011-06-23T20:22:42.782+08:00</updated><title type='text'>我妈/爸煮的饭最好吃了！</title><content type='html'>I feel very very blessed and fortunate to have my parents for parents. &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I think cooking is another way for them to express their love/responsibility towards me. I asked my mother if she liked cooking and she said honestly no.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;HONESTLY. I DISLIKE COOKING TOO (not that I know how to). I mean cooking is fine but I really just rather do the eating part. It's so tedious, straining, tiring and not to mention the afterwork of cooking.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;So i really appreciate it when my parents spend their time to cook for us. Especially my mother who spends like HOURS on cooking even though she just came back from work.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;What I can do is really wash my own dishes after i eat...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Not boasting or anything but I think the efforts put into cooking deserve a post on its own.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I'd never said this to them, but I really appreciate and want to thank them for everything. I guess I will tell that to them in person when I start cooking for them/taking care of them.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Chinese I guess don't really 'hug'/ express their love. We like to keep it in for the crucial moment ~_~ Maybe we all know telepathy. haha&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;honestly, life is hella short. be nice, be nice :)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7649938-6609471740860178522?l=angiesecondblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://angiesecondblog.blogspot.com/feeds/6609471740860178522/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7649938&amp;postID=6609471740860178522&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7649938/posts/default/6609471740860178522'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7649938/posts/default/6609471740860178522'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://angiesecondblog.blogspot.com/2011/06/blog-post.html' title='我妈/爸煮的饭最好吃了！'/><author><name>Angie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10483082194686115747</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='16' src='http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v382/Aqchua/angie2.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7649938.post-2002396916243066804</id><published>2011-06-23T11:09:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2011-06-28T13:49:59.819+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='dream'/><title type='text'>Gruesome dream</title><content type='html'>Had like the most gruesome flashback of my dream 20mins after being awake...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This man was tied against this metal wall and that metal wall would have spikes or small knives emerging; rendering his blood and flesh useless. What's even more disgusting was that when all his bodyparts except his forehead were 'gone',a chain with hook from top of the wall is let down. The hook latched itself against the forehead and brought it up; sliding against the spiky wall. The remains were shredded and the wall was bloodied. Bloodied.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hella scary when it suddenly flashback in your mind. I wanna cry T.T&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;why can't I dream about sunflower field and jumping/laughing hysterically in it? :(&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7649938-2002396916243066804?l=angiesecondblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://angiesecondblog.blogspot.com/feeds/2002396916243066804/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7649938&amp;postID=2002396916243066804&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7649938/posts/default/2002396916243066804'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7649938/posts/default/2002396916243066804'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://angiesecondblog.blogspot.com/2011/06/gruesome-dream.html' title='Gruesome dream'/><author><name>Angie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10483082194686115747</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='16' src='http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v382/Aqchua/angie2.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7649938.post-4217263275988223385</id><published>2011-06-15T03:37:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2011-06-15T03:43:38.043+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Carried</title><content type='html'>I wonder what my future holds for me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Afraid? I am.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Blurry. Unclear. Unknown. Uneasy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sitting on a boat being driven by the currents towards a fog. Don't know what is beyond the fog but i cannot stop advancing because of the currents. I am not sailing the boat, I am merely being carried away by the flow of water.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7649938-4217263275988223385?l=angiesecondblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://angiesecondblog.blogspot.com/feeds/4217263275988223385/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7649938&amp;postID=4217263275988223385&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7649938/posts/default/4217263275988223385'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7649938/posts/default/4217263275988223385'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://angiesecondblog.blogspot.com/2011/06/i-wonder-what-my-future-holds-for-me.html' title='Carried'/><author><name>Angie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10483082194686115747</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='16' src='http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v382/Aqchua/angie2.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7649938.post-3879408719549960787</id><published>2011-06-14T01:05:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2011-06-14T01:08:54.098+08:00</updated><title type='text'>BRIGHTNESS</title><content type='html'>GOSH I FEEL SO POSITIVE RIGHT NOW! &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I FEEL LIKE I AM BEING UPLIFTED FROM THE DEPRESSION I WAS FEELING &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Wow. I just came up with a fantastic theory!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Like how I said humans are flawed, they lie and stuff?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;WELL NOT ALL.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I mean so what if all 100 people i met are nasty and evil? THE 101ST ONE MAY BE DIFFERENT.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;SEE&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;ONE PLUS FOR POSITIVENESS!  *smiles*&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;sooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo unbelievably full of positive energy right now.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I AM GOING TO SETTLE THE ADMIN WORK FOR UNI by this week and then eat omurice on wednesday hehe&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;YES!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I AM POSITIVE AGAIN.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;SLUMPS YOU CAN EAT MY OMURICE! actually no, please i want to eat my omurice, please get your own.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;:D&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7649938-3879408719549960787?l=angiesecondblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://angiesecondblog.blogspot.com/feeds/3879408719549960787/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7649938&amp;postID=3879408719549960787&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7649938/posts/default/3879408719549960787'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7649938/posts/default/3879408719549960787'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://angiesecondblog.blogspot.com/2011/06/brightness.html' title='BRIGHTNESS'/><author><name>Angie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10483082194686115747</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='16' src='http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v382/Aqchua/angie2.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7649938.post-5832070469296777306</id><published>2011-06-10T03:04:00.004+08:00</published><updated>2011-06-11T01:20:44.480+08:00</updated><title type='text'>honestly</title><content type='html'>i think i am too uptight and stressed out about stuff.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;stuff that are mediocre.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;sometimes i feel i need to RELAX MORE.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;gosh.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;RELAX GIRL~&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;the&lt;/span&gt; kind of person currently to think of the worst out of situation. A simple thing can get me tensed up as hell. Example, an event. I get stressed out BEFORE the event and then when the event finally commenced, i had realised it was all redundant.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I bounced back to my non anxious self when someone snaps me out of &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;out&lt;/span&gt; like say"why are you so tensed? It's not even a big deal" i fully appreciate that because it kind of make me realised it really isn't&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Everyone has got some kind of crazy in them and it's only when we know how to control this crazy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Moderate is key. And i am gonna relax by sleeping&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7649938-5832070469296777306?l=angiesecondblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://angiesecondblog.blogspot.com/feeds/5832070469296777306/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7649938&amp;postID=5832070469296777306&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7649938/posts/default/5832070469296777306'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7649938/posts/default/5832070469296777306'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://angiesecondblog.blogspot.com/2011/06/honestly.html' title='honestly'/><author><name>Angie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10483082194686115747</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='16' src='http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v382/Aqchua/angie2.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7649938.post-55121233805709842</id><published>2011-06-08T15:45:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2011-06-28T13:49:59.822+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='dream'/><title type='text'>dream</title><content type='html'>dreamt about my neighbour being a hypocrite when she/he is really nice in real life...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;LOL&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;really o.O and scary....the feeling of unraveling the mask...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;SHALL THINK OF HAPPY THINGS BEFORE I SLEEP NEXT TIME.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;TOO MUCH TO HANDLE.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7649938-55121233805709842?l=angiesecondblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://angiesecondblog.blogspot.com/feeds/55121233805709842/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7649938&amp;postID=55121233805709842&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7649938/posts/default/55121233805709842'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7649938/posts/default/55121233805709842'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://angiesecondblog.blogspot.com/2011/06/dream.html' title='dream'/><author><name>Angie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10483082194686115747</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='16' src='http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v382/Aqchua/angie2.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7649938.post-245467040997234379</id><published>2011-06-07T02:44:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2011-06-07T03:24:36.990+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='thoughts'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='ipod touch'/><title type='text'>Why can't life be a bed of roses?</title><content type='html'>Why are we so flawed? Why are we mean to others? Why do we lie? Why do we betray? Why do we?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When did you stop believing in believing?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As kids, pure and untainted. Taught to believe that all man are good. Fearless and ignorant of the depth of human mind. Faith in every single person. No lies, no harm, no doubts. How then- did we grow to be totally different? Why can't Everyone be truthful in vocalising their thoughts? Why? Why is it that our truthful thoughts will bring about angst and perhaps even agony? Why are these negative feelings even present in the first place? If we were ignorant of their existence, would they still stay like a parasite feasting on mind right now? Is it possible to rid all skepticism towards our own species if we never knew how to doubt? Would people hurt if they didn't know how to?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No... People hurt because they don't know how not to&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We know how to do a lot. How to doubt. How to dislike. How to fall. We also know how to do the opposite. But the main question is, how do we not doubt, dislike and fall? Sure, we can trust, like and rise. Will we be able to do the latter without the former? Doubt to trust. Dislike to like. Fall to rise. And the vice &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;verse&lt;/span&gt; occurs. What I want is to skip these interactions. I want to know how not to fall, how not to doubt, how not to dislike. Impossible? Very likely, i have seen how &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;I've&lt;/span&gt; changed inwardly towards people.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Embrace all with kindness? You can, but will you? It was never a matter of capability but rather choices. I hate how the world is the main culprit for all these &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;skepticism&lt;/span&gt; i am feeling. I hate how I can never convince myself to be that innocent child. Why world, did you create humans that lacked in so many aspects? Why humans who creates wall? Why humans, who can conceal their intentions and emotions, good or bad, positive or negative? Why bother creating when we destroy the innocence we were born with? Why world, did you not remove this seed of evil and uncertainty implanted in us; that will sprout and even devour some? Why?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I never want to doubt. I want to trust wholeheartedly. But tell me how? All these lies floating around just serve as a severe warning.What hurt aren't lies. Lies don't hurt. It's people who lie that hurt. It's discovering the truth that hurts. It's betrayal that stings. No one likes misplacing their trust. Lies are like bubbles ready to burst anytime. It's easier to lie. It's easier. We taught ourselves how to lie. Sadly, we are our own teachers.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I want to believe in the good of people. I can't. Cynical much? Why? I used to believe. So why do i find it hard? So difficult? I hate questions with no definite answers. No one knows.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7649938-245467040997234379?l=angiesecondblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://angiesecondblog.blogspot.com/feeds/245467040997234379/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7649938&amp;postID=245467040997234379&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7649938/posts/default/245467040997234379'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7649938/posts/default/245467040997234379'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://angiesecondblog.blogspot.com/2011/06/why-cant-life-be-bed-of-roses.html' title='Why can&apos;t life be a bed of roses?'/><author><name>Angie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10483082194686115747</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='16' src='http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v382/Aqchua/angie2.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7649938.post-5926382272861319665</id><published>2011-06-07T02:08:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2011-06-07T02:12:33.377+08:00</updated><title type='text'>raking</title><content type='html'>Recently, internet has caused me to remember artises I used to stalk online LOL&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Like their information and songs...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I cannot disregard YUI . I like to type her name as YUI. Anyway I discovered her name in the keyboard and I found that interesting.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;How did I know of YUI? I bought midnight sun vcd lol. Then how did I know this film? I was in tuition class with  Christian and he told me about this movie. Being interested and all , I went to buy the vcd.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;FELL IN LOVE WITH HER VOICE.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Her voice is so unique and beautiful. And she writes her own songs....gaaahhhh. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I even went to register an account in the forum lol (but zero post)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;well, just wanted to note this down...i want to note everything i can remember in my blog. so if i am old and i forget, at least i have a reference.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;oh ya, and at that point in time, all her songs were titled in English except for Namidairo.(fun fact) -.-&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;\m/&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7649938-5926382272861319665?l=angiesecondblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://angiesecondblog.blogspot.com/feeds/5926382272861319665/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7649938&amp;postID=5926382272861319665&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7649938/posts/default/5926382272861319665'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7649938/posts/default/5926382272861319665'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://angiesecondblog.blogspot.com/2011/06/raking.html' title='raking'/><author><name>Angie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10483082194686115747</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='16' src='http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v382/Aqchua/angie2.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7649938.post-367044872695843626</id><published>2011-06-04T01:23:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2011-06-04T01:34:01.497+08:00</updated><title type='text'>let me boast about something</title><content type='html'>I never knew of the existence of polyclinics until &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;JC&lt;/span&gt; 1.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Honest and truthful.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;because whenever i was down with fever or sick, i only went to clinics.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Only in &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;JC&lt;/span&gt; 1, when i had a skin irritation that I knew of polyclinics.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;that moment, i felt like I was a princess who stepped out of her &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;castle&lt;/span&gt; for the first time. It was pure awesomeness. I know it makes me sound ignorant but you know the feeling where the rich doesn't know what a coin looks like? It's less extreme but still similar.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I guess it's because whenever i am sick, i feel like shit and my parents know that- so &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;clincs&lt;/span&gt; I go. Man, i cannot imagine having to wait for so long when I feel so terrible.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh, and one thing, i rarely fall sick. It used to be an annual thing but now it's like NEVER &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;hahaha&lt;/span&gt;. the most recent i-can-remember-that-is-more-&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;impactful&lt;/span&gt;-sickness was back in 2007. STOMACH FLU. &lt;a href="http://angiesecondblog.blogspot.com/2007/06/waha-visited-doctor-yesterday-waha-all.html"&gt;(read post here)&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;lol&lt;/span&gt; the agony of that was pure horrifying.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i remembered i woke up in the middle of the night to vomit. i couldn't dash to the toilet in time &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;btw&lt;/span&gt;. the taste of bitter &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;milk tea&lt;/span&gt; was lingering. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9"&gt;argh&lt;/span&gt;. and i never had &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10"&gt;pokka&lt;/span&gt; milk tea ever since. it was definitely &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11"&gt;ewwwwwwww&lt;/span&gt; max.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;doctor &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12"&gt;told me&lt;/span&gt; to drink isotonic drink. i drank right after i left the clinic, only to find myself &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_13"&gt;vomiting&lt;/span&gt; the contents into a nearby bush. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_14"&gt;ewww&lt;/span&gt;, i know. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_15"&gt;lol&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;anyway i just did spell check on my entry, and realised i forgot how to spell castle. spelled it as 'castel' instead *facepalm* guess i am not suited to live in a castle afterall :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7649938-367044872695843626?l=angiesecondblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://angiesecondblog.blogspot.com/feeds/367044872695843626/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7649938&amp;postID=367044872695843626&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7649938/posts/default/367044872695843626'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7649938/posts/default/367044872695843626'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://angiesecondblog.blogspot.com/2011/06/let-me-boast-about-something.html' title='let me boast about something'/><author><name>Angie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10483082194686115747</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='16' src='http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v382/Aqchua/angie2.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7649938.post-461244503101067793</id><published>2011-05-31T22:41:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2011-05-31T22:43:00.948+08:00</updated><title type='text'>11.11</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;we all need reassurance from somethings. be it your soft toys, real life people or 11.11. when we imagine there is something out there with a greater 'power' than what we can do, we seem to feel comforted.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;comforted that we have something to believe in. that there is something out there helping us in what we believe in.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;it's comforting to wish.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;but i used to detest all these. i feel like i am superior over these things. but when i met like my 'downfall', these things really brings you strength.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;wishing, praying, hoping, believing.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;i used to think wishing is just a waste of time. like better get your butts moving than to WISH. but then i realise wishing is not as small a deal as i thought.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;wishing brings strength. it brings power to people. a wish may be useless but the indirect results caused by wishing can be tremendous.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;just like a dream.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;*inserts my essay of How Important are Dreams*&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7649938-461244503101067793?l=angiesecondblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://angiesecondblog.blogspot.com/feeds/461244503101067793/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7649938&amp;postID=461244503101067793&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7649938/posts/default/461244503101067793'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7649938/posts/default/461244503101067793'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://angiesecondblog.blogspot.com/2011/05/1111.html' title='11.11'/><author><name>Angie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10483082194686115747</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='16' src='http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v382/Aqchua/angie2.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7649938.post-6629059472469466564</id><published>2011-05-29T15:38:00.013+08:00</published><updated>2011-05-29T16:32:38.614+08:00</updated><title type='text'>TWINS</title><content type='html'>watching their videos from the 10th anniversary fan meet brings back so much memories.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;it's like after so much has happened , they are now reunited and singing songs from before. JUST LIKE BEFORE.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;gosh i don't know if it's because they are like the first idol group i liked BUT IT IS SO SO SO *inserts words pertaining to excitement/speechless/omg*&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;man, and when you know how hard they got it during that 'saga'. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;aiyoh when they first had the "everybody bounce up" (something along that line the title), i was so excited la...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;but then they focus on solo...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;AIYOH MY GOSH. SOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO AWESOME.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;wo de ou xiannnnnnnnggggggggg~&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;all those songs...NOSTALGIC MAX.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;THE FIRST SONG LYRICS I EVER MEMORISED WAS FOR THEM ALSO. OMG.  lol&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;i began to get a little interested in learning canto because of them also.... *bawls like a kid*&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;so gan dong &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;LISTENING TO THEM SING NOW. OMG.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;ahhhhhhhhhhhhhh man i swore they were like one of the only groups whose songs lyrics i bothered to google and UNDERSTAND lol&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;one of my goals in life that i posted (few years back) included meeting them in person too... MAN IF I CAN MEET THEM IN MY LIFE. I DON'T KNOW LA BUT SERIOUSLY SO LONG NO SEE THEM TOGETHER&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;8breathes*&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;TWINS TWINS TWINS.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;lol posting here because i don't want to outburst on twitter on facebook. it's really an emotion that is hard to express or say.... i guess it's like 草蜢 together? lol not sure but seriously....&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;twins... even though i didn't really liked your movies, i still bought them... :S HAHAHAHA&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;but i love your canto songs...(even though i only have the one and only mandarin album) LOL&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;fail much.... X_X&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;my fav song of all times; &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51); font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 22px; font-weight: bold; line-height: 25px; "&gt;飲歌&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 22px; line-height: 25px;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;iframe width="425" height="349" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/ohBTOGC_-3I" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen=""&gt;&lt;/iframe&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;OMG I SERIOUSLY FEEL LIKE CRYING ~_~&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;edit: OMG I TOTALLY FORGOT I BOUGHT ONE OF THEIR CANTO ALBUM LOL *goes into search*&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;lol buay tahan at my fan side in the past... i rmb searching for their youtube videos is such agony because their group name is TWINS. then all the real twins video starts popping up ~_~&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;oh and before i ever forget how i got into liking twins... it's because of the 齐天大圣 sun wukong tvb drama, where they are ziyi and zilan fairy(cannot rmb their names)- shown on Ch U.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;craze after that  xD&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7649938-6629059472469466564?l=angiesecondblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://angiesecondblog.blogspot.com/feeds/6629059472469466564/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7649938&amp;postID=6629059472469466564&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7649938/posts/default/6629059472469466564'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7649938/posts/default/6629059472469466564'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://angiesecondblog.blogspot.com/2011/05/twins.html' title='TWINS'/><author><name>Angie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10483082194686115747</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='16' src='http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v382/Aqchua/angie2.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://img.youtube.com/vi/ohBTOGC_-3I/default.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7649938.post-3588216573516113284</id><published>2011-05-27T01:36:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2011-05-27T01:43:23.978+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='tweets'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='thoughts'/><title type='text'>my tweets are more expressive than my previous entry</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Pvn_XijREJ4/Td6QCCsgrmI/AAAAAAAAAtg/6-jdSQpLFcs/s1600/self.png"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 180px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Pvn_XijREJ4/Td6QCCsgrmI/AAAAAAAAAtg/6-jdSQpLFcs/s400/self.png" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5611080550507916898" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i guess the reason why I find it so hard to express is because it is almost gruelling to admit that I care too much about myself than others.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Because i am too self-centered; i choose not to take the first step. i choose not to change my ways. i choose to remain indifferent. i choose to do so even though I have the knowledge that I can make a difference. i choose.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;it's sad because it was an option, a choice and not something beyond my capabilities. and yet, i chose something that disappoints.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;probably after all this, i should tell myself, "then stop disappointing yourself and choose what you think you can and want to do" but i can't.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can't. Scoff. maybe the first thing i should do is to stop saying "I can't".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i have a retaliation for every excuse I am trying to make for myself now. It's almost like a wrestling match. it stinks. yet again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;it stinks.&lt;br /&gt;it really does.&lt;br /&gt;and what stinks most is that I do nothing about it when I can.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7649938-3588216573516113284?l=angiesecondblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://angiesecondblog.blogspot.com/feeds/3588216573516113284/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7649938&amp;postID=3588216573516113284&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7649938/posts/default/3588216573516113284'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7649938/posts/default/3588216573516113284'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://angiesecondblog.blogspot.com/2011/05/my-tweets-are-more-expressive-than-my.html' title='my tweets are more expressive than my previous entry'/><author><name>Angie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10483082194686115747</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='16' src='http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v382/Aqchua/angie2.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Pvn_XijREJ4/Td6QCCsgrmI/AAAAAAAAAtg/6-jdSQpLFcs/s72-c/self.png' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7649938.post-8596274568179683343</id><published>2011-05-27T01:08:00.005+08:00</published><updated>2011-05-27T01:16:17.271+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>sometimes i ask myself "what the heck am I doing with my life?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am honestly feeling bummed about it. I am not contributing not doing a single thing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Like...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know i should probably do this.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But... it lacks push.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;like someone or something to give you a push.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's because I am that. i can't. i mean...gosh i am so speechless as to how to express this.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's because I am so flawed in this area to take the first step.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i cannot take the first step. i am afraid of something new. i hate changes in life. i don't dare to step out of my comfort zone. i...i.............................&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;speechless takes over once more.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;gosh. i suck so much. WHY DO I NOT DO WHAT I THINK I SHOULD DO.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;anything i said just sounds like an excuse. ARGH. maybe I am giving myself excuses to minimize my significance. like i could do this much but i choose not to. then i give an excuse to cover it up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;this really stinks.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7649938-8596274568179683343?l=angiesecondblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://angiesecondblog.blogspot.com/feeds/8596274568179683343/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7649938&amp;postID=8596274568179683343&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7649938/posts/default/8596274568179683343'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7649938/posts/default/8596274568179683343'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://angiesecondblog.blogspot.com/2011/05/sometimes-i-ask-myself-what-heck-am-i.html' title=''/><author><name>Angie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10483082194686115747</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='16' src='http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v382/Aqchua/angie2.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7649938.post-1242366013087514452</id><published>2011-05-26T02:25:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2011-05-26T02:27:08.820+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='tweets'/><title type='text'>tweets i want to save #3</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-FirmLNafw_w/Td1Jzdwv9aI/AAAAAAAAAtY/bm_nhqhPbek/s1600/TWEETS.png" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 144px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-FirmLNafw_w/Td1Jzdwv9aI/AAAAAAAAAtY/bm_nhqhPbek/s320/TWEETS.png" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5610721859284759970" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7649938-1242366013087514452?l=angiesecondblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://angiesecondblog.blogspot.com/feeds/1242366013087514452/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7649938&amp;postID=1242366013087514452&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7649938/posts/default/1242366013087514452'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7649938/posts/default/1242366013087514452'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://angiesecondblog.blogspot.com/2011/05/tweets-i-want-to-save-3.html' title='tweets i want to save #3'/><author><name>Angie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10483082194686115747</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='16' src='http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v382/Aqchua/angie2.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-FirmLNafw_w/Td1Jzdwv9aI/AAAAAAAAAtY/bm_nhqhPbek/s72-c/TWEETS.png' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7649938.post-969718568664575484</id><published>2011-05-24T00:39:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2011-05-24T00:42:08.282+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='new phrase learnt'/><title type='text'>New phrase learnt: Take with a grain of salt</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;span &gt;Take with a grain of Salt&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51); font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 23px; -webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 2px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 2px; "&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;To take a statement with 'a grain of salt' or 'a pinch of salt' means to accept it but to maintain a degree of skepticism about its truth.&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7649938-969718568664575484?l=angiesecondblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://angiesecondblog.blogspot.com/feeds/969718568664575484/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7649938&amp;postID=969718568664575484&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7649938/posts/default/969718568664575484'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7649938/posts/default/969718568664575484'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://angiesecondblog.blogspot.com/2011/05/new-phrase-learnt-take-with-grain-of.html' title='New phrase learnt: Take with a grain of salt'/><author><name>Angie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10483082194686115747</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='16' src='http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v382/Aqchua/angie2.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7649938.post-4100515346012267544</id><published>2011-05-22T17:09:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2011-05-22T17:13:17.090+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='ipod touch'/><title type='text'>Answer</title><content type='html'>A question was asked on formspring. If i could have a wish what would i have wished for. The first thing that came to mind was for everyone in the world to be happy. Then i thought about health; is it possible to be unhealthy And happy at the same time? Of course wishes for everyone to attain happiness are simply too idealistic to be fulfilled in reality. Thus, one can only wish.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's a simple yet difficult wish&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7649938-4100515346012267544?l=angiesecondblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://angiesecondblog.blogspot.com/feeds/4100515346012267544/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7649938&amp;postID=4100515346012267544&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7649938/posts/default/4100515346012267544'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7649938/posts/default/4100515346012267544'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://angiesecondblog.blogspot.com/2011/05/answer.html' title='Answer'/><author><name>Angie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10483082194686115747</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='16' src='http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v382/Aqchua/angie2.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7649938.post-1639766809184247775</id><published>2011-05-20T01:50:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2011-05-20T14:35:44.642+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Pirates'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='movie'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='afterthoughts'/><title type='text'>PIRATES.</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-XtrW4FSqXmI/TdVYlBlbkRI/AAAAAAAAAtQ/AMU7LZycuYc/s1600/DSC01283.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-XtrW4FSqXmI/TdVYlBlbkRI/AAAAAAAAAtQ/AMU7LZycuYc/s320/DSC01283.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5608486304063656210" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Watched pirates 4, thanks to fanny for the online booking ahahha&lt;br /&gt;Love the seats at Cathay, so comfortable and the space is big too :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Joann dap and fanny said there were people kicking their chairs...while i didn't feel a thing...must have been too engrossed in the movie.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;it was an enjoyable experience because the movie was great. i wish jack sparrow would JUST TALK TO ME... i will faint.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;such a sexy man...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;coupled with awesome environment (for me) it was a great great movie experience...haven't watched a good show in a while :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;SUCKSEED JULY 21ST&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7649938-1639766809184247775?l=angiesecondblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://angiesecondblog.blogspot.com/feeds/1639766809184247775/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7649938&amp;postID=1639766809184247775&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7649938/posts/default/1639766809184247775'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7649938/posts/default/1639766809184247775'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://angiesecondblog.blogspot.com/2011/05/pirates.html' title='PIRATES.'/><author><name>Angie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10483082194686115747</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='16' src='http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v382/Aqchua/angie2.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-XtrW4FSqXmI/TdVYlBlbkRI/AAAAAAAAAtQ/AMU7LZycuYc/s72-c/DSC01283.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7649938.post-3181622922200234875</id><published>2011-05-14T03:06:00.009+08:00</published><updated>2011-05-14T13:01:05.558+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='thoughts'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='青の炎'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='ipod touch'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='the blue light'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='movie'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='afterthoughts'/><title type='text'>The Blue Light</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;Note: scenes portrayed here may not be 100% accurate from actual film as these are based vaguely yet vividly on my memories. And despite not knowing how many years ago i caught this movie, i can assure you they are memories from a very long time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Edit: rofl i think i remembered this film because i told myself to. When the movie title 青の炎 appeared. I told myself to remember it because i found the film intriguing. So maybe it is not so much about me feeling for the char but more so because i told myself to not forget '青の炎'.&lt;br /&gt;P.S i typed everything below without remembering i told myself to remember.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Edit 2: found a &lt;a href="http://angiesecondblog.blogspot.com/2007/12/i-just-wanna-note-down-something-i.html"&gt;blog post&lt;/a&gt; of me mentioning this film 4 years ago&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A movie which i don't even remember the details of our encounter. The channel, the year, the reason why i finished watching it. Yet, surprisingly (even to myself) etched in my mind. Bewildered as to how each scene floods to mind as if i've watched it recently. I recall so much of this movie that it is a little scary.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So much that i just want to pen down the scenes as proof.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I cannot recall the cast faces or even their voices. Just snippets of the scenes. I remembered how obsessed I was with the movie that i wished to install blue lights in my room onto the wall; just like the male lead's room. His room was in a garage. He would stare at the fish in the aquarium- another source of blue light. I like how he switches off the blue lights one by one when he is exiting the room.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I remembered how painful i felt for him, like someone was playing a nasty trick on him when he was told that his step father was going to die eventually even without his intervention. Helpless. So helpless. It is painful because his intentions were justifiable. It is painful because he fate was sealed the moment he decided to commit the crime. It's heartbreaking because he destroys only to protect. In order to cover up one crime, he committed another. Recording his days using a voice recorder. Ha, i even imitated this back then by recording my days.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I interpreted the ending as him being sentenced to jail and released. The ending scene was of him walking on the road. Before that there was his girlfriend painting an older him. 30 years? Therefore, i thought he was just jailed. Reading wiki however, they said he commit ed suicide. I don't intend to re watch this movie unless it reruns on some TV channel. I will probably pick up a lot of messages and things i missed out but i prefer to keep memories of this movie raw and first hand.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How much did i feel and how much did the story reach me? So much so that i remember the plot so well despite the years. Recalling the movie just makes me sad. First kill to protect his family. Second kill to protect himself. I think i feel for him because i don't think he deserve all the things he was going through.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think people in general feel angry, agitated, sad and frustrated because of unjust. Our measurement of deserve. Like we measure what we think this person deserve subconsciously. And when reality doesn't coincide with our expected 'measurement' we get thrown off. First, puzzled, then followed by a flood of emotions. We judge. We judge without ourselves knowing. We give values to a person's encounter.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt; "ahhh, i expected it"&lt;br /&gt;" wow i thought he wouldn't..."&lt;br /&gt;"why did he do that?"&lt;br /&gt;"i don't believe..."&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We place an expectation on what we feel others &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;should&lt;/span&gt; encounter based on our measurements. And this measurements exist only because we judge.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7649938-3181622922200234875?l=angiesecondblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://angiesecondblog.blogspot.com/feeds/3181622922200234875/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7649938&amp;postID=3181622922200234875&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7649938/posts/default/3181622922200234875'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7649938/posts/default/3181622922200234875'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://angiesecondblog.blogspot.com/2011/05/blue-light.html' title='The Blue Light'/><author><name>Angie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10483082194686115747</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='16' src='http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v382/Aqchua/angie2.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7649938.post-1062436794528268570</id><published>2011-05-14T01:23:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2011-05-14T12:52:57.432+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='thoughts'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='habit'/><title type='text'>habit</title><content type='html'>i have this habit of imagining getting hit by a baseball bat.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;like someone from behind swung the bat and hit my head from the side.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;i wonder if that is common ~_~&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;like imagining the impact... just wondering...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7649938-1062436794528268570?l=angiesecondblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://angiesecondblog.blogspot.com/feeds/1062436794528268570/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7649938&amp;postID=1062436794528268570&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7649938/posts/default/1062436794528268570'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7649938/posts/default/1062436794528268570'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://angiesecondblog.blogspot.com/2011/05/habit.html' title='habit'/><author><name>Angie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10483082194686115747</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='16' src='http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v382/Aqchua/angie2.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7649938.post-1913575189251290608</id><published>2011-05-11T15:23:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2011-05-14T12:51:40.041+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='thoughts'/><title type='text'>different.</title><content type='html'>i think humans or living things have different personalities because we were meant to complement. i believe humans are not lonesome creatures. we work naturally in groups. that's why we have friends and families around us, to make up for what we lack. &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;words of assurance, words of support, words of comfort. these words spoken by others to us can give us great strength during those down times when we fail because of our weaknesses.  that's why i believe no one should ever be alone in life. not that I think anyone can survive being 100% alone and isolated from others.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;JUST SOME THOUGHTS.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7649938-1913575189251290608?l=angiesecondblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://angiesecondblog.blogspot.com/feeds/1913575189251290608/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7649938&amp;postID=1913575189251290608&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7649938/posts/default/1913575189251290608'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7649938/posts/default/1913575189251290608'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://angiesecondblog.blogspot.com/2011/05/different.html' title='different.'/><author><name>Angie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10483082194686115747</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='16' src='http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v382/Aqchua/angie2.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7649938.post-4078326836738338433</id><published>2011-05-10T22:43:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2011-05-14T12:51:54.973+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='tweets'/><title type='text'>tweets i want to save #2 -About Me</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-ydwKOO8ZwEs/TclPPdgpEmI/AAAAAAAAAtI/LLms2dN5AgA/s1600/aboutme.png" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 231px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-ydwKOO8ZwEs/TclPPdgpEmI/AAAAAAAAAtI/LLms2dN5AgA/s400/aboutme.png" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5605098338277462626" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;tweets about me:)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7649938-4078326836738338433?l=angiesecondblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://angiesecondblog.blogspot.com/feeds/4078326836738338433/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7649938&amp;postID=4078326836738338433&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7649938/posts/default/4078326836738338433'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7649938/posts/default/4078326836738338433'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://angiesecondblog.blogspot.com/2011/05/tweets-i-want-to-save-2-about-me.html' title='tweets i want to save #2 -About Me'/><author><name>Angie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10483082194686115747</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='16' src='http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v382/Aqchua/angie2.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-ydwKOO8ZwEs/TclPPdgpEmI/AAAAAAAAAtI/LLms2dN5AgA/s72-c/aboutme.png' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7649938.post-3571966076285261932</id><published>2011-05-10T22:34:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2011-05-14T12:52:06.428+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='tweets'/><title type='text'>tweets i want to save #1</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-de9lERM1u_U/TclO0eBcfEI/AAAAAAAAAtA/5mgqfkZW39g/s1600/mystory.png" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 273px; height: 400px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-de9lERM1u_U/TclO0eBcfEI/AAAAAAAAAtA/5mgqfkZW39g/s400/mystory.png" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5605097874558581826" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;read from bottom to top btw.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7649938-3571966076285261932?l=angiesecondblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://angiesecondblog.blogspot.com/feeds/3571966076285261932/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7649938&amp;postID=3571966076285261932&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7649938/posts/default/3571966076285261932'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7649938/posts/default/3571966076285261932'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://angiesecondblog.blogspot.com/2011/05/tweets-i-want-to-save-1.html' title='tweets i want to save #1'/><author><name>Angie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10483082194686115747</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='16' src='http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v382/Aqchua/angie2.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-de9lERM1u_U/TclO0eBcfEI/AAAAAAAAAtA/5mgqfkZW39g/s72-c/mystory.png' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7649938.post-3480835660815664566</id><published>2011-05-07T15:45:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2011-05-14T13:04:19.085+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='amusing'/><title type='text'>a little moment...</title><content type='html'>One of the most devastating moment of a student is probably when you left your pencil lead container opened and place it in your pencil case&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and your face is like:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://angels.ocregister.com/files/2010/11/noooooo.gif"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 196px;" src="http://angels.ocregister.com/files/2010/11/noooooo.gif" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;when you find out.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7649938-3480835660815664566?l=angiesecondblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://angiesecondblog.blogspot.com/feeds/3480835660815664566/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7649938&amp;postID=3480835660815664566&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7649938/posts/default/3480835660815664566'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7649938/posts/default/3480835660815664566'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://angiesecondblog.blogspot.com/2011/05/little-moment.html' title='a little moment...'/><author><name>Angie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10483082194686115747</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='16' src='http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v382/Aqchua/angie2.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7649938.post-7303243339572676769</id><published>2011-05-03T04:12:00.007+08:00</published><updated>2011-05-14T12:51:40.041+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='thoughts'/><title type='text'>A surge of emotions</title><content type='html'>I feel overwhelmed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Torn between 2 sides; I can't decide on how I should feel.&lt;br /&gt;I am so disgustingly uptight over stuff.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Screw it. Talk to me please. No, I don't mean it literally.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anything works as long as you do not lose control. Emotions can overwhelm but they can also be contained if you allow them to. It all boils down to control.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why do I feel this way? I don't even know what I am feeling. It's a pain when emotions aren't defined-especially when there's a mixture.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No. I am not emotionally scarred or anything along that line. I just feel confused. Very confused. So confused that i feel helpless. Like a child lost in a mall, with no one familiar in sight. Like a raging teenager aimless about life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There is no rule regarding how I should feel. That's why is hard.  Emotions just run wild on their own accord and that confuses me. I am not a organised person but I admit I like to have a standard template that I can abide to in life and follow accordingly. Too bad there isn't any.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;In case you are thinking that this is a love confession or stuff like that, let me assure you it is not. Ha, actually I don't even need to explain&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Maybe it's just because I said something stupid again in my life when I told myself to be more freaking sensitive from my past mistake. Yet I allow myself to commit another one so easily and so out of place. I don't like to hurt and I don't like to remember. But they are just so fresh. Playing in my mind. At times like this I wished I had amnesia and can just forget.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It is so hard to be perfect. So easy to let those brainless acts slip through the filter. It just serves as another reminder as to how flawed one is.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*laughs* &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am ok. Just, once in a while you need to pour something out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I do find it contradicting. As to why I post what I feel for public eye to see but does not want any comment about them. It is like I want you to know how I feel but I don't want you to bother. I just want people to know. Knowledge of a little part of me is enough. I am ok. Just saying lol. Haha  now I sound bipolar. Time now is five am sharp. Nights to the owls and morning to the birds.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7649938-7303243339572676769?l=angiesecondblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://angiesecondblog.blogspot.com/feeds/7303243339572676769/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7649938&amp;postID=7303243339572676769&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7649938/posts/default/7303243339572676769'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7649938/posts/default/7303243339572676769'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://angiesecondblog.blogspot.com/2011/05/surge-of-emotions.html' title='A surge of emotions'/><author><name>Angie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10483082194686115747</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='16' src='http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v382/Aqchua/angie2.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7649938.post-3968306395938129192</id><published>2011-05-02T14:31:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2011-05-02T14:31:48.376+08:00</updated><title type='text'>somehow it's funny how we are celebrating over someone's death</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7649938-3968306395938129192?l=angiesecondblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://angiesecondblog.blogspot.com/feeds/3968306395938129192/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7649938&amp;postID=3968306395938129192&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7649938/posts/default/3968306395938129192'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7649938/posts/default/3968306395938129192'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://angiesecondblog.blogspot.com/2011/05/somehow-its-funny-how-we-are.html' title='somehow it&apos;s funny how we are celebrating over someone&apos;s death'/><author><name>Angie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10483082194686115747</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='16' src='http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v382/Aqchua/angie2.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7649938.post-188749190789574510</id><published>2011-05-01T01:17:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2011-05-01T01:18:00.940+08:00</updated><title type='text'>if spoken words can break someone, imagine the unspoken.</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7649938-188749190789574510?l=angiesecondblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://angiesecondblog.blogspot.com/feeds/188749190789574510/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7649938&amp;postID=188749190789574510&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7649938/posts/default/188749190789574510'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7649938/posts/default/188749190789574510'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://angiesecondblog.blogspot.com/2011/05/if-spoken-words-can-break-someone.html' title='if spoken words can break someone, imagine the unspoken.'/><author><name>Angie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10483082194686115747</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='16' src='http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v382/Aqchua/angie2.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7649938.post-4641348525465700633</id><published>2011-05-01T00:50:00.004+08:00</published><updated>2011-05-14T12:51:40.042+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='thoughts'/><title type='text'>right or wrong?</title><content type='html'>if everything in the world has a definite answer, then life would be so much easier.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;if only we have nothing to lose every time we make a decision. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;so many baffling questions in mind. so overwhelming and overlapping that i cannot list them one by one.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;remaining calm and composed even in face of the worst situation is something I have been striving for; but failing miserably.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;i get affected easily by things around me. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;and this entry will lead to no where because I just wanted to type whatever that's on my mind right now.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;so many many thoughts running through my head-twitter will not be able to stomach them.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;why do we fear so much?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;why do i get a feeling that, even though people are smiling and shouting their support; but eventually their actions would show otherwise?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;it's a bothersome why sometimes our actions and words cannot be one. why do we fear so much?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;what i believe the key essential is time. given more time this fear will erode and eventually become obsolete.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;and i don't like being challenged.(as i said before this post is about jumbled up thoughts so none of this will link or even make any sense). being challenged in my opinions makes me feel like i am fighting a battle with no outcome. because there is no right or wrong in opinions.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;so you cannot point your finger against me and say I am wrong. what measurement are you using? sad to say, my point of view doesn't go together with extreme thoughts (you know what I am referring to- acts of crime, anything that may go against general moral rights).&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;but then again, are we really in a position to judge whether criminals are right or wrong? (so i am going to be totally contradicting in this post) luckily we have law established for us to abide. but is the law 100% reliable?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;what I am trying to bring across is probably the fact that there isn't 100% right in a matter; neither is there 100% wrong in one. I guess we base our right/wrong on the higher percentage option.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;ah shit, wanted to type more but a sneeze disrupted my train of thoughts(no that the train tracks were connected) &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;i&gt;ah, this is a rather no point entry because it not smooth and fluent -.- it's just raw thoughts from my brain.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7649938-4641348525465700633?l=angiesecondblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://angiesecondblog.blogspot.com/feeds/4641348525465700633/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7649938&amp;postID=4641348525465700633&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7649938/posts/default/4641348525465700633'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7649938/posts/default/4641348525465700633'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://angiesecondblog.blogspot.com/2011/05/right-or-wrong.html' title='right or wrong?'/><author><name>Angie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10483082194686115747</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='16' src='http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v382/Aqchua/angie2.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7649938.post-349345441997787714</id><published>2011-04-28T23:01:00.004+08:00</published><updated>2011-05-14T12:51:40.043+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='thoughts'/><title type='text'>spill the beans.</title><content type='html'>if one day, humans just pour out their thoughts without reservation...&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;if one day, I can just pour out whatever i think without reservation...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;gosh, i can almost feel the load off my freakin chest. lol&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;but they say, keep your mouth shut if you don't have any nice things to say...imagine those people that always have their mouth shut; they probably have all the bad thoughts in their mind lol&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I NEED A VIRTUAL FRIEND LOL.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;see i am uptight over stupid stuff ahahahhahah&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;i need someone to talk to; but i don't feel comfortable talking to anyone. OH THE IRONY.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7649938-349345441997787714?l=angiesecondblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://angiesecondblog.blogspot.com/feeds/349345441997787714/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7649938&amp;postID=349345441997787714&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7649938/posts/default/349345441997787714'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7649938/posts/default/349345441997787714'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://angiesecondblog.blogspot.com/2011/04/spill-beans.html' title='spill the beans.'/><author><name>Angie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10483082194686115747</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='16' src='http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v382/Aqchua/angie2.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7649938.post-7004546738205611281</id><published>2011-04-28T22:49:00.006+08:00</published><updated>2011-05-14T12:52:40.045+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='habit'/><title type='text'>stress</title><content type='html'>i get stressed out easily.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;for no specific reason at all.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;there's no need to panic over this. there's no need to feel pressurized. but i just do.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;for a reason or for a stupid reason i just get uptight and stressed out over it.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;argh i hate my personality...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;RELAX MAN.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;just keep chanting 'it's ok' and that will probably soothe me down.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;why am i like this? :S &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;i hate stressing out for little things that others don't. i keep thinking nothing's ever going to be alright. GOSH.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;and i swear. never again am i going to offer help in organising outings (partially because i am a loser in organising) . it stress the shit out of me. just doing this now because i don't want to leave things hanging there.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;never. no matter how tempting it is. i'll never ever offer any form of help.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;damn.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7649938-7004546738205611281?l=angiesecondblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://angiesecondblog.blogspot.com/feeds/7004546738205611281/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7649938&amp;postID=7004546738205611281&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7649938/posts/default/7004546738205611281'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7649938/posts/default/7004546738205611281'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://angiesecondblog.blogspot.com/2011/04/stress.html' title='stress'/><author><name>Angie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10483082194686115747</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='16' src='http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v382/Aqchua/angie2.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7649938.post-3568195448915865310</id><published>2011-04-26T00:05:00.005+08:00</published><updated>2011-05-14T13:17:12.394+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='thoughts'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='ipod touch'/><title type='text'>careful and some little thoughts</title><content type='html'>&lt;i&gt;shall post something i typed on my ipod touch 4 days ago when i was lying on my bed and this random thought came to mind. -&amp;gt;it will be contradicting and maybe it doesn't make any sense; but i am too lazy to edit it&lt;/i&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;/start.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Relationships are so vulnerable, so fragile. I see people desperately clinging onto what's left; hoping to salvage what was already long gone.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I see people pretending like everything was the same as before. Masking their changes in feelings; just to sustain whatever is going on. beneath that surface, they just can't wait to tear away the pretense.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But, ironically,  what ever they are trying to salvage and any damage they are trying to alleviate was inflicted by them. Humans-both the destroyer and savior.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Life is an irony on its own. We live to die. Fight for peace. Quarrel for happiness. Win only to lose.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;/ends.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;/start of new entry&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;well, i like blogging because it is my personal little space. It's a place where I am free to point out my opinion and don't expect to be judged. I don't want to be challenged by differing opinions. Like, "no, i don't feel that way."  I respect that others have different opinions and i am willing to take it in and maybe change my perspective if I find them logical. but if i don't, no one's going to scream in my face to change it.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;another thing about it is that; i know most of my blog entries are somewhat contradicting (i try my best to keep it not). i just can't help it. especially when it's about opinions; as i type, i start to question my own statement. At first, i feel obliged to write something like an essay with a clear stand; but then i realised-there's no need to. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I am not going to hand up my blog to anyone. And being contradicting is part of human. part of me. I am just surfacing what I think and feel. No worries about being graded down by anyone.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;:)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;gosh i don't know where i will pour my heart out if i didn't have a blog.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7649938-3568195448915865310?l=angiesecondblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://angiesecondblog.blogspot.com/feeds/3568195448915865310/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7649938&amp;postID=3568195448915865310&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7649938/posts/default/3568195448915865310'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7649938/posts/default/3568195448915865310'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://angiesecondblog.blogspot.com/2011/04/careful.html' title='careful and some little thoughts'/><author><name>Angie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10483082194686115747</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='16' src='http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v382/Aqchua/angie2.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7649938.post-1212291849896391871</id><published>2011-04-21T20:03:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2011-04-21T20:16:37.569+08:00</updated><title type='text'>hmmmm</title><content type='html'>i am going sleep early tonight (before 12am). my heart beats faster as the night gets darker. LOL no it's not a joke.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;as in i feel my heart racing faster when i stay up longer. like my health is at risk -.-&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;i am going to set my life straight and sleep early!! and hopefully wake up early&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7649938-1212291849896391871?l=angiesecondblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://angiesecondblog.blogspot.com/feeds/1212291849896391871/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7649938&amp;postID=1212291849896391871&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7649938/posts/default/1212291849896391871'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7649938/posts/default/1212291849896391871'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://angiesecondblog.blogspot.com/2011/04/hmmmm.html' title='hmmmm'/><author><name>Angie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10483082194686115747</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='16' src='http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v382/Aqchua/angie2.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7649938.post-2017770851712034362</id><published>2011-04-20T14:26:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2011-04-20T14:27:30.094+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>i think the only reason why i am so vocally confident of my uni application is because i want to reassure myself..&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;i really don't know what i will do if i didn't get the course i want...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;so just repeating confidently helps a little...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;ahhhh&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7649938-2017770851712034362?l=angiesecondblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://angiesecondblog.blogspot.com/feeds/2017770851712034362/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7649938&amp;postID=2017770851712034362&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7649938/posts/default/2017770851712034362'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7649938/posts/default/2017770851712034362'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://angiesecondblog.blogspot.com/2011/04/i-think-only-reason-why-i-am-so-vocally.html' title=''/><author><name>Angie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10483082194686115747</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='16' src='http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v382/Aqchua/angie2.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7649938.post-2294132889698704673</id><published>2011-04-16T00:09:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2011-04-16T00:11:46.492+08:00</updated><title type='text'>being jobless</title><content type='html'>i have been jobless for around 16 days.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;the 1st week or days (i can't even tell anymore) were bearable because I have so much dramas to watch. once i have exhausted all the dramas...i turned to twitter..&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;spamming tweets and replying people...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;i SERIOUSLY UNDERSTOOD WHAT NO LIFE MEANT YO~~&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;D: it's going to be a month since i am jobless... &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;going to study for BTT but that wouldn't take up much time ~_~&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7649938-2294132889698704673?l=angiesecondblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://angiesecondblog.blogspot.com/feeds/2294132889698704673/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7649938&amp;postID=2294132889698704673&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7649938/posts/default/2294132889698704673'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7649938/posts/default/2294132889698704673'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://angiesecondblog.blogspot.com/2011/04/being-jobless.html' title='being jobless'/><author><name>Angie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10483082194686115747</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='16' src='http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v382/Aqchua/angie2.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7649938.post-1270352666383580150</id><published>2011-04-14T18:47:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2011-04-14T19:26:54.178+08:00</updated><title type='text'>hotline</title><content type='html'>sometimes i wonder if there is a hotline just for talking; like out of pure friendship.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;we know there are chat hotlines around and i believe (from what i gather through living) that they aren't really for pure 'chatting' lol&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;i mean i wouldn't mind working for a hotline just for making friends but then again, wouldn't it be a little ironic if you are making money off your 'friends"?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;food for thought, food for thought.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;but i bet there are people around who feels the need to talk to someone; anyone, but can't seem to find one physically around them...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;and then there are also things which you find it hard to tell people you know; but you just have to get it off your chest...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;hmmm, that's when the hotline will come in? &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7649938-1270352666383580150?l=angiesecondblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://angiesecondblog.blogspot.com/feeds/1270352666383580150/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7649938&amp;postID=1270352666383580150&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7649938/posts/default/1270352666383580150'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7649938/posts/default/1270352666383580150'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://angiesecondblog.blogspot.com/2011/04/hotline.html' title='hotline'/><author><name>Angie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10483082194686115747</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='16' src='http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v382/Aqchua/angie2.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7649938.post-455280634597404108</id><published>2011-04-12T23:14:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2011-04-12T23:16:06.403+08:00</updated><title type='text'>goal for my holiday</title><content type='html'>finish reading the memory keeper's daughter.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;i am such a loser-.- i get lazy because the book is very descriptive and full of adjectives. something which i feel requires high concentration to read (and not just lying on the bed)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;i will find time to sit down and read...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;it's been so long since my last book..&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7649938-455280634597404108?l=angiesecondblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://angiesecondblog.blogspot.com/feeds/455280634597404108/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7649938&amp;postID=455280634597404108&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7649938/posts/default/455280634597404108'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7649938/posts/default/455280634597404108'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://angiesecondblog.blogspot.com/2011/04/goal-for-my-holiday.html' title='goal for my holiday'/><author><name>Angie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10483082194686115747</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='16' src='http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v382/Aqchua/angie2.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7649938.post-6142129896601656095</id><published>2011-04-11T12:32:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2011-04-11T12:32:50.449+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>it's just because i always act nice.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7649938-6142129896601656095?l=angiesecondblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://angiesecondblog.blogspot.com/feeds/6142129896601656095/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7649938&amp;postID=6142129896601656095&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7649938/posts/default/6142129896601656095'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7649938/posts/default/6142129896601656095'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://angiesecondblog.blogspot.com/2011/04/its-just-because-i-always-act-nice.html' title=''/><author><name>Angie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10483082194686115747</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='16' src='http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v382/Aqchua/angie2.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7649938.post-8666249579228614656</id><published>2011-04-09T15:11:00.006+08:00</published><updated>2011-04-09T19:08:46.331+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Past</title><content type='html'>read through my past entries. i think i was quite an arrogant and haughty kid. ewww , i hope that has changed.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;while i was kind of embarrassed by my entries, one made me lol. i ALWAYS chance upon this post whenever i am reminiscing my past&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(53, 53, 53); font-family: arial; font-size: 11px; "&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(53, 53, 53); font-family: arial; font-size: 11px; "&gt;I farted today.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(53, 53, 53); font-family: arial; font-size: 11px; "&gt;I think that it is an honour and a privilege to be able to fart. I pity those who can't fart and must keep their toxic waste inside their body. So unhealthy.&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;LOL MUCH? especially when it is the opening sentence of the entry-.-&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;2006:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I didn't know i had that much principle in the past :X&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(53, 53, 53); font-family: arial; font-size: 11px; "&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;I don't allow anyone to copy my work.So stop asking me for answers. Get your own!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And, don't disturb me when I am doing work &lt;strong&gt;SERIOUSLY&lt;/strong&gt;.(note: i rarely do things seriously) It gives me headache. Especially nowadays the weather is so unpredictable, my mood is too.&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;..and, i knew i had dreams...&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(53, 53, 53); font-family: arial; font-size: 11px; "&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;u style="text-decoration: none; border-bottom-width: 1px; border-bottom-style: dotted; border-bottom-color: rgb(255, 120, 120); "&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;u style="text-decoration: none; border-bottom-width: 1px; border-bottom-style: dotted; border-bottom-color: rgb(255, 120, 120); "&gt;My Dream In Future&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I am 16, I'll complete my 'O' level and go to a JC(not Mr Tseng JC)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I am 18, I'll be in JC 2nd year and be a vcd store cashier.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I am 20, I'll be in university and continue to be a vcd store cashier. I will also get a nicer haircut and hopefully I have slimmed down by then.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I am 30, I'll open a vcd store, buy a house and car. And also meet my idols!&lt;br /&gt;-Let me elaborate on a few points:&lt;br /&gt;-&amp;gt;House&lt;br /&gt;My house will have 2 storeys(with staircase). Then it'll be clean! :D&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-&amp;gt;Car&lt;br /&gt;My dream car is a 7 seater, because it can hold more people.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-&amp;gt;Vcd Store&lt;br /&gt;it'll have all kinds of VCD/DVD from all countries! :D&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-&amp;gt;Idols&lt;br /&gt;Twins! But i guess they are about 30+++++++ when I am 30....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I am 40, I will earn enough money to buy a better car and travel round the world. By the time I earned enough, I want to try out all kinds of jobs. Also, bring my parents out to enjoy life!:D&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I am 50, I want to exercise and be &lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 204, 204); "&gt;pink&lt;/span&gt; in health :D&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Quite shocked actually. i didn't really remember i had a dream set for myself. yes, a little trivial, but i actually had one. would be nice if i had pinned it up on the front page to remind myself; i had dreams and goals set. ha. it's a little weird, since I am like 19 this year and reading back... it's like writing a letter to your future self...cool&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2008:&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 15px; line-height: 19px;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(53, 53, 53); font-family: arial; font-size: 11px; line-height: normal; "&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;Ok.&lt;br /&gt;I would like to study PSYCHOLOGY in future. Not to rip open your brain and then see what thoughts there are, but i want to understand HUMANS better. Like why some people would want to commit suicide. There are many things in life that i will never get to understand, but i am sure through studying the behaviour, habits and acts of humans, i will understand a lot more!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ever seen any newspaper and thought, why? Ya! Why? Why do this why do that? I really can't understand because i am not them. Somehow i think it's interesting to understand why people act differently towards similar problems.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have many dreams in life. Many jobs i want to be. I want to be a vcd store cashier so that I can watch free vcds. I want to be a salesperson because I want to talk and convince people to buy my products. I want to be a dj because I want to talk to the people who call in. Then early this year, i thought of becoming someone who will be able to contribute back to the community and help others. Then i thought again. Maybe no.&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 11px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;kinda brutal that I needed to be reminded of my dreams by my younger self. and kind of brutal when you realised you cannot always choose what you want/like to do.  reality can be such a bitch sometimes(this sentence is so out of my character. but idc)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7649938-8666249579228614656?l=angiesecondblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://angiesecondblog.blogspot.com/feeds/8666249579228614656/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7649938&amp;postID=8666249579228614656&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7649938/posts/default/8666249579228614656'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7649938/posts/default/8666249579228614656'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://angiesecondblog.blogspot.com/2011/04/past.html' title='Past'/><author><name>Angie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10483082194686115747</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='16' src='http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v382/Aqchua/angie2.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7649938.post-3335152074015476531</id><published>2011-04-09T10:47:00.005+08:00</published><updated>2011-05-14T13:06:23.311+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='thoughts'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='habit'/><title type='text'>Hmmm pt 2</title><content type='html'>On the surface, i do feel that i act like my blood type. But i have too little discipline and control over myself to actually maintain the disctint traits. I am too lazy and laidback for my blood type. However, i do agree that i am timid and prefer to do things according to the rules stated.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Once in a while i feel that i am a little subtly fake. I like to say things that i think is right for the situation but not necessarily what's in my mind. Well, i am guessing who doesn't. I doubt anyone says everything on their mind. Perhaps, everyone is always trying, somehow(at the back of our heads), to search for the most appropriate reaction or words we feel we should give. Maybe this doesn't count as fake? But fake or not, it still belongs to the real of anyone.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The fake is part of the real you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Disgustingly cheesy but i guess it holds some truth. "the real you is fake" something along that line. Ironic but fun. Sometimes i kind of wished i was a badass kid who disregarded anything 'right' and just throw everything like " hey, in your face." i believe humans do yearn, no matter how different, to be someone they are not, even just for a little while.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;opinions don't have to be 'right'. Who defines the right anyway?&lt;/i&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7649938-3335152074015476531?l=angiesecondblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://angiesecondblog.blogspot.com/feeds/3335152074015476531/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7649938&amp;postID=3335152074015476531&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7649938/posts/default/3335152074015476531'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7649938/posts/default/3335152074015476531'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://angiesecondblog.blogspot.com/2011/04/hmmm-pt-2.html' title='Hmmm pt 2'/><author><name>Angie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10483082194686115747</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='16' src='http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v382/Aqchua/angie2.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7649938.post-3783553379781198562</id><published>2011-04-08T22:38:00.005+08:00</published><updated>2011-04-08T22:57:06.124+08:00</updated><title type='text'>hmmm</title><content type='html'>my life is pretty much smooth sailing.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;i mean even when i was late for my chemistry paper &lt;i&gt;(this incident was the very first that made me thought,"shit, i screwed myself up really badly")&lt;/i&gt;, i still passed it. life has been very very kind to me. family, friends, academics.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;that's why i am afraid.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;i am afraid that the smooth sailing would stop. and i am afraid that it would be my uni application outcome that stops this.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;i have high hopes of getting into my first choice. i would be quite lost if i didn't get into it.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;it's like the boat suddenly capsized before i reach the shore. and i didn't prepare for the capsize, or even think about the possibility of the capsize before i set off.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;~_~ wavy eyes to end the post.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;(anyway, the biggest setback in my life up till now was being late for my A level chem. this really shows how kind life has been to me. oh, please please continue to be kind)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7649938-3783553379781198562?l=angiesecondblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://angiesecondblog.blogspot.com/feeds/3783553379781198562/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7649938&amp;postID=3783553379781198562&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7649938/posts/default/3783553379781198562'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7649938/posts/default/3783553379781198562'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://angiesecondblog.blogspot.com/2011/04/hmmm.html' title='hmmm'/><author><name>Angie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10483082194686115747</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='16' src='http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v382/Aqchua/angie2.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7649938.post-7116153286049154432</id><published>2011-03-27T23:31:00.006+08:00</published><updated>2011-05-14T12:55:49.184+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='thoughts'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='jdrama'/><title type='text'>jdorama i caught/catching 2010-2011</title><content type='html'>2010 end till now&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;1. BOSS&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;2. Quartet&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;3. Shinzanmono SP(aka yubi)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;4. Keizoku SPEC&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;5. Utsukushii Rinjin&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;6. Mother&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;7. Taisetsu na Koto wa Subete Kimi ga Oshiete Kureta&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;cool yo~&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;jdorama spree.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;i enjoy watching dramas in general, but i guess Japanese dramas attract me the most. I normally watch korean idol drama, which is mostly for looking at the faces and interactions between the female and male lead. Similar for taiwan drama in the past(not watching anymore).&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;But jdorama always seem to have this freshness and insights of life in them. Another reason could be that they are generally quite short; about 10 eps here or there. The genres are really diverse, be it wacky, funny, touching, psychological, mystery, detective...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;cool yo~&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;and to me, it doesn't matter if the drama is unrealistic. Let say supernatural powers(Keizoku). As long as the acting is realistic that's fine. I mean for Mother, the main plot about this teacher who kidnapped her student out of her maternal instinct seems a bit far fetched, but the interactions and feelings between the cast(to me) were realistic enough.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;i mean, one reason why we watch dramas is exactly because dramas show us what cannot be obtained in real life. Let say idol drama, how can it be so coincidental that when guy A wants to talk to girl A, guy B appears? It's cliche and old, but we love it.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;That's the beauty of stories in general(i think). Imagination. Creativity. Not restrained by the reality. We get pulled into these stories because they are highly impossible to obtain.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;MY RANDOM POINT OF VIEW. ;D but seriously, i love watching dramas! :o&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7649938-7116153286049154432?l=angiesecondblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://angiesecondblog.blogspot.com/feeds/7116153286049154432/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7649938&amp;postID=7116153286049154432&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7649938/posts/default/7116153286049154432'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7649938/posts/default/7116153286049154432'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://angiesecondblog.blogspot.com/2011/03/jdorama-i-caught-2010-2011.html' title='jdorama i caught/catching 2010-2011'/><author><name>Angie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10483082194686115747</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='16' src='http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v382/Aqchua/angie2.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7649938.post-2583014113089711366</id><published>2011-03-26T02:15:00.004+08:00</published><updated>2011-05-14T12:54:21.884+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='angst'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='thoughts'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='work'/><title type='text'>Drown in fury; loss in respect.</title><content type='html'>To have respect for others is to have self-respect for yourself. Sometimes, we get so engrossed and immersed in our frustrations that we forgot the most basic form of respect. We hear angry voices, colorful words and even threats because people let their emotions take control. Or simply, in other words, they lose it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They start charging at you like a bull which had seen red; they don't care whether the red cloth is what they want to attack; they just do.it disgusts me how humans can lose that respect just because of some trivial or materialistic matters. Yes, we aren't saints, we have temper, but before you start your merciless attack, listen to yourself; what have you become?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Listen.&lt;br /&gt;Are you the usual you who talks to other nicely when you meet them? Smiling and having fun with your friends, family or neighbours? Or have you become a totally different person because you let anger take over you? Would you scream in the face of a teenager you have never met in your life while walking on the streets? Just because you can't see us, doesn't mean that you can lose that respect.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My point of sadness and disappointment comes mainly from how someone can have a totally different persona over the phone and how they can treat others like trash just because they believe they are right. Note: BELIEVE they are right. We are here to help, but appreciation seems to be as rare as respect. Too many things are taken for granted. Understanding was never there. Sheer disgust is all that's left.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You can be mean and disrespectful, but that just means you are losing respect for yourself. No self respecting human would go all the way to ruin someone else's day. seriously, before you blow, listen. You would be shocked and apalled at how unfriendly you have became.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7649938-2583014113089711366?l=angiesecondblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://angiesecondblog.blogspot.com/feeds/2583014113089711366/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7649938&amp;postID=2583014113089711366&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7649938/posts/default/2583014113089711366'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7649938/posts/default/2583014113089711366'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://angiesecondblog.blogspot.com/2011/03/drown-in-fury-loss-in-respect.html' title='Drown in fury; loss in respect.'/><author><name>Angie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10483082194686115747</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='16' src='http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v382/Aqchua/angie2.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7649938.post-8555073391368029511</id><published>2011-03-23T02:21:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2011-03-23T02:30:10.784+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Interest</title><content type='html'>I think i realised what i like to do! I like to deduce. Observing one's behaviour and actions and from there,deduce his(her) intentions... Would be interesting if there's a list of job for that...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To be able to derive something that can't be seen from something that can be; it will definitely bring me a sense of satisfaction. Especially if i deduced it correctly. That would be pretty cool.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7649938-8555073391368029511?l=angiesecondblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://angiesecondblog.blogspot.com/feeds/8555073391368029511/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7649938&amp;postID=8555073391368029511&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7649938/posts/default/8555073391368029511'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7649938/posts/default/8555073391368029511'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://angiesecondblog.blogspot.com/2011/03/interest.html' title='Interest'/><author><name>Angie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10483082194686115747</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='16' src='http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v382/Aqchua/angie2.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7649938.post-6876837885190722713</id><published>2011-03-22T01:26:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2011-03-22T01:35:59.285+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Trying to apply for NTU, but I was dumbfounded by the Non Academic achievements section. One man's worth is going to be determined by 300 words and the amount of A(s) that surfaced on your certificate.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Cruel. Brutal. But true.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;baffled by how the world works. puzzled by what we use to gauge one's capabilities or potential.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Interviews are the same. First impression. The way you talk and the way you present yourself. Every gesture counts, every facial contraction(or relaxation) would be considered as a gauge.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;anyway, I am having a hard time typing this entry because of my deterioration in writing skill. I feel ashamed of reading what I wrote(full of errors). I need to quit my job and get back to focusing on blogging.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;until then, i shall just leave this post hanging...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7649938-6876837885190722713?l=angiesecondblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://angiesecondblog.blogspot.com/feeds/6876837885190722713/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7649938&amp;postID=6876837885190722713&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7649938/posts/default/6876837885190722713'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7649938/posts/default/6876837885190722713'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://angiesecondblog.blogspot.com/2011/03/trying-to-apply-for-ntu-but-i-was.html' title=''/><author><name>Angie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10483082194686115747</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='16' src='http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v382/Aqchua/angie2.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7649938.post-8174997289719601505</id><published>2011-03-15T00:49:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2011-03-15T00:50:05.098+08:00</updated><title type='text'>ouch.</title><content type='html'>i have such a bad temper. getting too easily irritated recently...&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;wonder if it is from the lack of sleep or from the nature of my job.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;tired max.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7649938-8174997289719601505?l=angiesecondblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://angiesecondblog.blogspot.com/feeds/8174997289719601505/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7649938&amp;postID=8174997289719601505&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7649938/posts/default/8174997289719601505'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7649938/posts/default/8174997289719601505'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://angiesecondblog.blogspot.com/2011/03/ouch.html' title='ouch.'/><author><name>Angie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10483082194686115747</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='16' src='http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v382/Aqchua/angie2.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7649938.post-1139655879113562138</id><published>2011-03-13T00:53:00.005+08:00</published><updated>2011-03-13T01:31:42.249+08:00</updated><title type='text'>speechless.</title><content type='html'>silence.awkward.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;It's not that we take things for granted. We just never thought that one day, they would be taken away from us.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Is it possible for one's interest to last forever?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;It has been so long since I typed an entry; so long that I have lost touch in writing. My brain has been on a hiatus ever since I got my job. I feel that I have not been thinking recently.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;speechless.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7649938-1139655879113562138?l=angiesecondblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://angiesecondblog.blogspot.com/feeds/1139655879113562138/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7649938&amp;postID=1139655879113562138&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7649938/posts/default/1139655879113562138'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7649938/posts/default/1139655879113562138'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://angiesecondblog.blogspot.com/2011/03/speechless.html' title='speechless.'/><author><name>Angie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10483082194686115747</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='16' src='http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v382/Aqchua/angie2.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7649938.post-4465119810645779358</id><published>2011-03-06T01:58:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2011-03-06T02:03:52.027+08:00</updated><title type='text'>反動作</title><content type='html'>很累，但并不想睡。&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7649938-4465119810645779358?l=angiesecondblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://angiesecondblog.blogspot.com/feeds/4465119810645779358/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7649938&amp;postID=4465119810645779358&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7649938/posts/default/4465119810645779358'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7649938/posts/default/4465119810645779358'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://angiesecondblog.blogspot.com/2011/03/blog-post.html' title='反動作'/><author><name>Angie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10483082194686115747</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='16' src='http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v382/Aqchua/angie2.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7649938.post-2756812753792400799</id><published>2011-02-22T12:58:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2011-05-14T12:53:42.034+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='movie'/><title type='text'>"Confessions" blew my mind!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_P6fYEj1YmO4/TQW_c8YC72I/AAAAAAAABfk/tXOXOFtSJsU/s400/Confessions+%25E5%2591%258A%25E7%2599%25BD+Japanese+Movie+Poster.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 283px; height: 400px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_P6fYEj1YmO4/TQW_c8YC72I/AAAAAAAABfk/tXOXOFtSJsU/s400/Confessions+%25E5%2591%258A%25E7%2599%25BD+Japanese+Movie+Poster.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Overwhelming.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7649938-2756812753792400799?l=angiesecondblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://angiesecondblog.blogspot.com/feeds/2756812753792400799/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7649938&amp;postID=2756812753792400799&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7649938/posts/default/2756812753792400799'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7649938/posts/default/2756812753792400799'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://angiesecondblog.blogspot.com/2011/02/confessions-blew-my-mind.html' title='&quot;Confessions&quot; blew my mind!'/><author><name>Angie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10483082194686115747</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='16' src='http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v382/Aqchua/angie2.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_P6fYEj1YmO4/TQW_c8YC72I/AAAAAAAABfk/tXOXOFtSJsU/s72-c/Confessions+%25E5%2591%258A%25E7%2599%25BD+Japanese+Movie+Poster.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7649938.post-8832978791062676389</id><published>2011-02-18T16:46:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2011-02-18T16:52:36.272+08:00</updated><title type='text'>reversal</title><content type='html'>why is it alway more difficult to reverse any actions?&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;dismantling is easier than constructing. breaking up a puzzle is easier than piecing them together. differentiation is a tad easier than integration. spending is easier than saving.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;you can never fix it back to its original state no matter how you try.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;setting up a fire is easy. putting it out is tough.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;blaming someone is easy. admitting it's your mistake is tough.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;no thoughts on this.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7649938-8832978791062676389?l=angiesecondblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://angiesecondblog.blogspot.com/feeds/8832978791062676389/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7649938&amp;postID=8832978791062676389&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7649938/posts/default/8832978791062676389'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7649938/posts/default/8832978791062676389'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://angiesecondblog.blogspot.com/2011/02/reversal.html' title='reversal'/><author><name>Angie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10483082194686115747</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='16' src='http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v382/Aqchua/angie2.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7649938.post-8825794368775742457</id><published>2011-02-16T19:52:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2011-02-16T19:55:20.854+08:00</updated><title type='text'>woah, i never knew...</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 13px; line-height: 19px; font-family: sans-serif; "&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;ul style="line-height: 1.5em; list-style-type: square; margin-top: 0.3em; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0.5em; margin-left: 1.5em; padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; list-style-image: url(http://bits.wikimedia.org/skins-1.5/vector/images/bullet-icon.png?1); "&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;li style="margin-bottom: 0.1em; "&gt;The NRIC number for citizens and permanent residents born before the year 2000 is assigned the letter "S". "S" is the 19th letter in the English alphabet, denoting that the person was born in the 20th century (1900-1999). It was commonly believed before 2000 that the "S" stands for Singapore, especially since the letter "F" was used for foreigners. It is unknown, however, if that was ever the intended meaning.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li style="margin-bottom: 0.1em; "&gt;Singapore citizens and permanent residents born in 2000 and beyond are assigned the letter "T". "T" is the 20th letter in the English alphabet, denoting the person was born in the 21st century (2000-2099).&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Wow, so next time you know you are old when everyone around you has an NRIC starting with T.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Wow. Splitting the 20th and 21st century D:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;It's hard to admit that my age is rocketing -.- &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/7649938-8825794368775742457?l=angiesecondblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://angiesecondblog.blogspot.com/feeds/8825794368775742457/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7649938&amp;postID=8825794368775742457&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7649938/posts/default/8825794368775742457'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7649938/posts/default/8825794368775742457'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://angiesecondblog.blogspot.com/2011/02/woah-i-never-knew.html' title='woah, i never knew...'/><author><name>Angie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10483082194686115747</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='16' src='http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v382/Aqchua/angie2.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7649938.post-4786044421279306982</id><published>2011-02-11T16:24:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2011-05-14T13:03:28.718+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='angst'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='work'/><title type='text'>working is crazy;receiving the wrong amount is crazier</title><content type='html'>when the sole meaning of work is money, you get really upset when your pay doesn't come in right.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I am so angsty right now.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Previously, I wrote this timesheet for these particular 3 days on a separate piece. So I thought, maybe it's because I didn't staple them together, that's why they didn't give it to me.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Fine.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;This time round, i wrote it on the SAME sheet of paper, calculated the total and wrote it down. Still, i only receive 8 days of pay.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;8 days for the previous one.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;8 days for the current one.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;WHAT ABOUT THE 3 DAYS I AM SUPPOSE TO GET???&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;If my job was a tad easy, i wouldn't be so upset. I don't know if it's my calculation error or what, but I just have to divide the normal hours by oneday in order to get how many days I am being paid for AND IT DOESNT TALLY.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Ahem. Excuse me. Now i truly understand why people go crazy over money.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Seriously, I never ever felt at ease when checking my payslip because there's always some screw up some where.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;This time, i am going to make a call. If they can clarify, (maybe it's an error ON MY MATHEMATICAL PART), it would be good. If not, I better see that THREE UNIQUE SPECIAL DAYS on my coming payslip.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Thank you.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7649938-4786044421279306982?l=angiesecondblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://angiesecondblog.blogspot.com/feeds/4786044421279306982/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7649938&amp;postID=4786044421279306982&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7649938/posts/default/4786044421279306982'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7649938/posts/default/4786044421279306982'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://angiesecondblog.blogspot.com/2011/02/working-is-crazyreceiving-wrong-amount.html' title='working is crazy;receiving the wrong amount is crazier'/><author><name>Angie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10483082194686115747</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='16' src='http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v382/Aqchua/angie2.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7649938.post-668093318143951143</id><published>2011-02-03T00:33:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2011-02-03T00:34:55.552+08:00</updated><title type='text'>contemplating//CNY</title><content type='html'>Contemplating whether I should get a ipod touch...(opinions are welcomed..i know there's no tagboard, you can still feedback via other modes...LOL)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;AND HAPPY CNY!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7649938-668093318143951143?l=angiesecondblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://angiesecondblog.blogspot.com/feeds/668093318143951143/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7649938&amp;postID=668093318143951143&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7649938/posts/default/668093318143951143'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7649938/posts/default/668093318143951143'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://angiesecondblog.blogspot.com/2011/02/contemplatingcny.html' title='contemplating//CNY'/><author><name>Angie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10483082194686115747</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='16' src='http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v382/Aqchua/angie2.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7649938.post-6278558227976907991</id><published>2011-01-30T12:57:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2011-01-30T12:58:17.790+08:00</updated><title type='text'>keep track. keep track.</title><content type='html'>It's so hard to keep track of things.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But i will keep track of things concerning $$$&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Which is why I am here...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;argh&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7649938-6278558227976907991?l=angiesecondblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://angiesecondblog.blogspot.com/feeds/6278558227976907991/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7649938&amp;postID=6278558227976907991&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7649938/posts/default/6278558227976907991'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7649938/posts/default/6278558227976907991'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://angiesecondblog.blogspot.com/2011/01/keep-track-keep-track.html' title='keep track. keep track.'/><author><name>Angie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10483082194686115747</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='16' src='http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v382/Aqchua/angie2.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7649938.post-4084431280447818465</id><published>2011-01-26T23:57:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2011-01-26T23:59:23.933+08:00</updated><title type='text'>奇妙。人生</title><content type='html'>&lt;span &gt;一想到人会死掉，就有点害怕。&lt;br /&gt;现在所做的一切都会像场梦一样。&lt;br /&gt;活得再精彩也会有个终点&lt;br /&gt;活得再坎坷也会有个句点&lt;br /&gt;人生，真的很奇妙。&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7649938-4084431280447818465?l=angiesecondblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://angiesecondblog.blogspot.com/feeds/4084431280447818465/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7649938&amp;postID=4084431280447818465&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7649938/posts/default/4084431280447818465'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7649938/posts/default/4084431280447818465'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://angiesecondblog.blogspot.com/2011/01/blog-post.html' title='奇妙。人生'/><author><name>Angie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10483082194686115747</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='16' src='http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v382/Aqchua/angie2.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
