<?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-20104193</id><updated>2011-04-21T18:59:14.724-07:00</updated><title type='text'>::nothing's quite the same anymore::</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hersilentwhispers.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20104193/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hersilentwhispers.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>yussy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12099114398161822887</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://i8.photobucket.com/albums/a16/yusnitayusoff/Image051.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>66</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20104193.post-116429081608721585</id><published>2006-11-23T05:27:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-11-23T06:49:01.740-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>i miss you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;me too. at times like this i wish i can run to you all and hug you tightly. ='(&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i'm sorry to hear your loss girlfriend... and the other loss too, which means a lot more to you. we'll meet up soon. i promise we'll get your favourite latte with 1 tbsp vanilla powder and four and a half pumps of caramel although you know how much i loathe starbucks (drinks).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;seems like everyone's gonna have lots of free time in the coming weeks but i'll have to start getting busy with the upcoming year end concert preparation and PTM. boo.&lt;br /&gt;the best thing is, i won't be able to join in for the family holiday trip due to work commitments. a big bus of forty and i'm missing. how great!&lt;br /&gt;hmmm... on the other hand, i'm not complaining cause i've got other reasons to smile about. =)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;on a lighter note, sorry to all for the long hiatus. i think i'll be on an even longer hiatus following this one short update.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20104193-116429081608721585?l=hersilentwhispers.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hersilentwhispers.blogspot.com/feeds/116429081608721585/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20104193&amp;postID=116429081608721585' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20104193/posts/default/116429081608721585'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20104193/posts/default/116429081608721585'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hersilentwhispers.blogspot.com/2006/11/i-miss-you.html' title=''/><author><name>yussy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12099114398161822887</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://i8.photobucket.com/albums/a16/yusnitayusoff/Image051.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20104193.post-116117791980321649</id><published>2006-10-18T05:33:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-10-18T06:27:48.673-07:00</updated><title type='text'>when the cat's away, the mice will party</title><content type='html'>it took me fingernails to log in into my blogger account. ok, that aside. i'm kinda looking forward to work tomorrow and friday. yes, u heard me right. read the above in bold and you'll understand why. =) ... besides that, there's the weekend to look forward to followed by a few days off from work. oh how can i not love it! =)))&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i've been looking for footwear for raya but much to my dismay, nothing has caught my eye or at least, nothing seems to be able to match my outfit. gah. if you had noticed they don't have many footwear available in white.... and yes, i'm only looking for white and me thinks me sticking to white (footwear, that is) for the next raya too.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;plans for the weekend? shoe hunting it will be. but i don't know where to head. *turns brain dead * suggestions are most welcome. =)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;hopefully, the family won't be making a trip down to jb again. i'm like how sick of jb can? plus, usually by the time i arrived, nevermind that i don't get my choc pudding but there's zilch donuts left at dunkin's! oh the horror!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;talking about donuts, my mom asked for a favour from aunt to get us 4 boxes of choc pudding since she'll be making a trip down to jb this sunday morning. observe the following exchange of phone conversation.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;mom: eh kau belikan aku choc pudding 4 kotak ok. (can u help us get 4 boxes of choc pudding?)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;aunt: eh kenape nak kene pergi jauh2? dunkin donuts kat far east kan ade? (why do u need to go so far? isn't there one at far east?)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;mom: *breaks into uncontrollable laughter* kau dari zaman gua batu eh? kedai tu maner ade lagi kat singapore.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;HAHAHA.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;mind you, this aunt of mine used to make visits to town a must on almost every weekend and she's also the one who taught us the way around town. of course, that was way before she switched to online shopping.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;_&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;this may seem a little out. anyone has been to vivocity?&lt;br /&gt;heard there's lots of great shops there.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20104193-116117791980321649?l=hersilentwhispers.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hersilentwhispers.blogspot.com/feeds/116117791980321649/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20104193&amp;postID=116117791980321649' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20104193/posts/default/116117791980321649'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20104193/posts/default/116117791980321649'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hersilentwhispers.blogspot.com/2006/10/when-cats-away-mice-will-party.html' title='when the cat&apos;s away, the mice will party'/><author><name>yussy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12099114398161822887</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://i8.photobucket.com/albums/a16/yusnitayusoff/Image051.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20104193.post-116074456567121362</id><published>2006-10-13T05:25:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-10-13T06:02:45.836-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>i thought i did the most terrible thing last night, i could never imagine doing it to myself. together with the scissors and my super itchy fingers, i happily cut my sister's fringe, thinking that her newly rebonded hair would look much better with short fringe. so, she agreed. and what do you know, she was transformed into cleopatra and i swear she almost wanted to cry (she denied it of course when i questioned her whether or not she was going to cry). anyway, she started complaining about how strict her dance instructor is about not allowing her dancers to have fringes and that it will be hard for her to pin it up now. i felt so bad afterwards when she kept snapping at me and could not stop bringing up on the subject about her hair whenever i tried to have conversations with her. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;but today, my cleopatra sister greeted me at the doorstep when i came back from work. the moment i stepped into the house, she happily showed me the display picture on her cell phone and ta-dah, it was none other than her cleopatra hair. dengan selambanya, dia pun berkata "eh nice rite? not bad hor. like jap".&lt;br /&gt;that instant, i didn't know whether i wanted to laugh or get angry.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;gasak kau lah budak kecik!&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;oh and i found more pics of her with cleopatra hair on my laptop later on.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;tsk..tsk..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;hmm... that reminds me. halloween is just around the corner.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*holds scissors and comb*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;anyone wanna dress up as cleopatra?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;muahahaha.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20104193-116074456567121362?l=hersilentwhispers.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hersilentwhispers.blogspot.com/feeds/116074456567121362/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20104193&amp;postID=116074456567121362' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20104193/posts/default/116074456567121362'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20104193/posts/default/116074456567121362'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hersilentwhispers.blogspot.com/2006/10/i-thought-i-did-most-terrible-thing.html' title=''/><author><name>yussy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12099114398161822887</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://i8.photobucket.com/albums/a16/yusnitayusoff/Image051.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20104193.post-116040589906677714</id><published>2006-10-09T07:02:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-10-09T08:03:41.910-07:00</updated><title type='text'>rub a dub-dub. give it a good scrub.</title><content type='html'>it's one of the bad headaches that's hitting again. if only i could give the brain cells that are causing the headache a good clean scrub. maybe with dettol, some anti-bacterial solution or disinfectant. oh did u know that i grow to love the smell of disinfectant because i smell it at work everyday. i don't know why but it does gives me this new, fresh and clean adour. maybe they should start inventing perfumes that smells like disinfectants. haha. ok. nonsense. but i mean it when i say i like it.&lt;br /&gt;i think the aching is also partly because i'm cracking my brain, trying to figure out how would it be possible to be up early for work tomorrow and for the rest of the month. my working schedule has been changed yet again. boooo.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;but on the other hand, i have plenty of time to do my mini retail theraphy and maybe grab some books from the library or even meet up with some friends on good days. no more sighing and whining i'm only free to meet on weekends.&lt;br /&gt;ok, i'm trying my best to look on the brighter side. i think it's working. =)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;guess it's time for me to hit the bed now. i know it's still early but i don't want to go to work looking like a panda or for the rest of my life.&lt;br /&gt;oh wait.&lt;br /&gt;haven't I already look like one?&lt;br /&gt;gah.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20104193-116040589906677714?l=hersilentwhispers.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hersilentwhispers.blogspot.com/feeds/116040589906677714/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20104193&amp;postID=116040589906677714' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20104193/posts/default/116040589906677714'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20104193/posts/default/116040589906677714'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hersilentwhispers.blogspot.com/2006/10/rub-dub-dub-give-it-good-scrub.html' title='rub a dub-dub. give it a good scrub.'/><author><name>yussy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12099114398161822887</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://i8.photobucket.com/albums/a16/yusnitayusoff/Image051.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20104193.post-115980141191507737</id><published>2006-10-02T05:08:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-10-02T08:29:36.786-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>thanks to my mom, i've been religiously making trips (dragged along actually) to malaysia the last three saturdays. with the festive occasion drawing nearer, i'm sure, just like my mom, all the other singaporean makciks would make a trip to our neighbouring country, not wanting to give those cheap bargains a miss.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;being someone who loves long rides, i didn't mind tagging along, (minus the 2 hours of traffic jam at the immigration centre of course, making me put on another 3 inches around my butt because it feels like i'm seated in the car like forever) and also to satisfy my never ending cravings for dunkin donuts choc pudding. =) trust me, i can finish four pieces in less than ten minutes and i don't give a hoot even if cellulite's the main ingredient in them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;during my jb trip recently, i discovered yet another hobby and that is observing bapoks. ok, they're not those hardcore, ugly bapoks or as mild as gays. they're super hot bapoks with nice slim figures many girls would die for.&lt;br /&gt;ok here goes.. my family decided to dine at pizza hut and i couldn't take my eyes off this super gorgeous girl. not long after i discovered the name written on her nametag, i realised that she was actually a he (before hearing him speak of course). i had to blinked hard to make sure that i did not misread his/her name. ok, his name is similar to someone i don't wish to be reminded of but tell me which part of the name 'ridzwan' is female. and so, my cousin being an ass as he always is, decided to put him to test. he tried to catch his attention by asking for an extra plate, knife etc just to hear him speak and yes, he sounded like a man. at one point of time, he addressed him as 'abang' (meaning brother) and of course, the poor guy had no choice but to respond although he didn't look really pleased. lol.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;_&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;due to having to come down to work on saturday till late afternoon and rushing off to jb right after, i didnt have much time to prepare the children's day gifts. so i was left with the later half of yesterday to do all the shopping for my little darlings. no prize for guessing how i'd spent my first half of the day and skipped my pre-dawn meal altogether. =p&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4682/1337/200/kids%202.0.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Happy Children's Day my darling N2s!&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;in case you're wondering, yes, i have that few children in my class turned up for school today because the rest probably self-declare today as a school holiday just like every other governmental schools. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;on a lighter note, hope you kiddos enjoyed the techno clubbing session we had in the morning.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;hail future ah-bengs and ah-lians!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;muahahaha.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;in times like this, it can't be helped.&lt;br /&gt;i don't miss you but i do miss the memories of hotfudge sundae.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20104193-115980141191507737?l=hersilentwhispers.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hersilentwhispers.blogspot.com/feeds/115980141191507737/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20104193&amp;postID=115980141191507737' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20104193/posts/default/115980141191507737'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20104193/posts/default/115980141191507737'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hersilentwhispers.blogspot.com/2006/10/thanks-to-my-mom-ive-been-religiously.html' title=''/><author><name>yussy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12099114398161822887</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://i8.photobucket.com/albums/a16/yusnitayusoff/Image051.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20104193.post-115935913376092221</id><published>2006-09-27T04:55:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-09-27T05:15:19.830-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;It comes at night when no one's watching.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;It comes so soft that it barely has a feeling.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;When it comes, your heart is at ease.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;And the only thing that's on your mind, &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;is now the agony can finally leave.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;_&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;as much as i look forward to the weekends, i know that friday's not gonna be easy. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;it's only wednesday but i can already feel it. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20104193-115935913376092221?l=hersilentwhispers.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hersilentwhispers.blogspot.com/feeds/115935913376092221/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20104193&amp;postID=115935913376092221' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20104193/posts/default/115935913376092221'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20104193/posts/default/115935913376092221'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hersilentwhispers.blogspot.com/2006/09/it-comes-at-night-when-no-ones.html' title=''/><author><name>yussy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12099114398161822887</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://i8.photobucket.com/albums/a16/yusnitayusoff/Image051.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20104193.post-115876568893537894</id><published>2006-09-20T07:38:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-09-20T08:24:47.356-07:00</updated><title type='text'>back to square one</title><content type='html'>someone broke the news in the early afternoon telling me that she'd left or rather was told to leave. i was clueless and took quite some time to register the news into my mind that she was really gone and i sank into deep melancholy when i finally did. it really affected me that i almost broke down quite a number of times on that particular day. only god knows how much she'd done for me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;there were 'hearsay' saying that this was no surprise and had actually been planned. no, don't get me wrong. i'm not the kind whom'll get affected by the art of mind poisoning just because majority shares the same opinion. frankly, i, for one, don't understand why people have to be so opinionated.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;whatever it is, i think it's really unfair that her presence and what she'd done for us wasn't being appreciated. i know that the relationship between the both of them turned out sour after some incidents that took place over the time. it's really a shame and a pity to be able to witness the two most respectable persons at loggerheads with one another.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;sometimes it's just so unfair that we get ticked off for the littlest mistake that've gone wrong but we've never gotten credit for the things we've done.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;reality IS NOT ugly.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;it's horrendous.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20104193-115876568893537894?l=hersilentwhispers.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hersilentwhispers.blogspot.com/feeds/115876568893537894/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20104193&amp;postID=115876568893537894' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20104193/posts/default/115876568893537894'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20104193/posts/default/115876568893537894'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hersilentwhispers.blogspot.com/2006/09/back-to-square-one.html' title='back to square one'/><author><name>yussy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12099114398161822887</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://i8.photobucket.com/albums/a16/yusnitayusoff/Image051.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20104193.post-115773009106584932</id><published>2006-09-08T08:16:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-09-08T08:41:31.136-07:00</updated><title type='text'>till the end of time</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4682/1337/1600/Copy%20of%209026992020060820020701.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4682/1337/320/Copy%20of%209026992020060820020701.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4682/1337/1600/Copy%20(3)%20of%209026992020060820020701.1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4682/1337/320/Copy%20%283%29%20of%209026992020060820020701.1.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4682/1337/1600/Copy%20(4)%20of%209026992020060820020701.5.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4682/1337/320/Copy%20%284%29%20of%209026992020060820020701.5.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4682/1337/1600/Copy%20(2)%20of%209026992020060820020701.3.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4682/1337/320/Copy%20%282%29%20of%209026992020060820020701.3.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4682/1337/1600/9026992020060820015448.1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4682/1337/320/9026992020060820015448.1.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt; ...... when u have to walk that lonesome valley, and you have to walk it for yourself, they will be on the valley's rim, cheering you on, pulling for you, intervening on your behalf and waiting with open arms at the valley's end. &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Sometimes, they will even break the rules and walk beside you and maybe even come in and carry you out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;~Lynn Anne&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20104193-115773009106584932?l=hersilentwhispers.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hersilentwhispers.blogspot.com/feeds/115773009106584932/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20104193&amp;postID=115773009106584932' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20104193/posts/default/115773009106584932'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20104193/posts/default/115773009106584932'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hersilentwhispers.blogspot.com/2006/09/till-end-of-time.html' title='till the end of time'/><author><name>yussy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12099114398161822887</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://i8.photobucket.com/albums/a16/yusnitayusoff/Image051.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20104193.post-115738697784467555</id><published>2006-09-04T09:13:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-09-04T09:22:59.856-07:00</updated><title type='text'>farewell</title><content type='html'>&lt;em&gt;saying goodbye is never easy.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;i never could handle one, what more three.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20104193-115738697784467555?l=hersilentwhispers.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hersilentwhispers.blogspot.com/feeds/115738697784467555/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20104193&amp;postID=115738697784467555' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20104193/posts/default/115738697784467555'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20104193/posts/default/115738697784467555'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hersilentwhispers.blogspot.com/2006/09/farewell.html' title='farewell'/><author><name>yussy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12099114398161822887</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://i8.photobucket.com/albums/a16/yusnitayusoff/Image051.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20104193.post-115713165115915233</id><published>2006-09-01T08:55:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-09-01T10:39:30.596-07:00</updated><title type='text'>a day to celebrate!</title><content type='html'>Arrive at work last thursday and boy, I was greeted with a plesant surprise. Tons of yummy food already laid on the table and I froze &lt;em&gt;(pardon the choc addict)&lt;/em&gt; for a second when i saw a chocolate fondue fountain standing at the side of the shelf. I tried so hard to resist the temptation to poke my fingers into the rich, creamy streaming chocolate sauce. how i wished i had brought along some strawberries. oh, we had it with marshmallows by the way.. and of course there was a long awaiting queue at this station. the kids came for their third, fourth and even fifth round.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4682/1337/1600/dotcoms_1914_30504215.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4682/1337/320/dotcoms_1914_30504215.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;next came the activities planned for the teachers, one of which was the balloon bursting game. it was real classic. every balloon that went burst sent the toddlers crying and screaming in hysteria. on top of that, some of the teachers were afraid of balloons too. just for your information, no, i'm not one of them although i never like the idea of bursting balloons on purpose. =p&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" height="209" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4682/1337/320/DSC07100.jpg" width="299" border="0" /&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;thank you so much for the gifts!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 297px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 230px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" height="248" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4682/1337/320/DSC07103.jpg" width="323" border="0" /&gt; i couldn't stop giggling when i unwrapped one of the gifts and found this. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;conversation between myself and the child who presented me with this:&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;child: (pulls my hand as soon as i stepped into class) teacher yus, come... i got present for you... come!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;me: okok.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;child: (holds gift and place it on my hands) this one for you. don't see.. you open at home okay. don't open here. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;me: ah..ok. thank you my dear.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;a few seconds later...&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;child: teacher yus!! i tell you something ah.. inside is a cup you know! &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;HAHAHA! &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;ok that's not really funny. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;you know what's even funnier?&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;world's greatest teacher?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;come laugh with me.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;muahahaha. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;to my meanies, current&amp;amp; future teachers [sno's included and the one who's abroad too =)] ex-echians and to all teachers in the world, I would like to take this opportunity to wish all of you a &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;HAPPY TEACHER'S DAY!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20104193-115713165115915233?l=hersilentwhispers.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hersilentwhispers.blogspot.com/feeds/115713165115915233/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20104193&amp;postID=115713165115915233' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20104193/posts/default/115713165115915233'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20104193/posts/default/115713165115915233'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hersilentwhispers.blogspot.com/2006/09/day-to-celebrate.html' title='a day to celebrate!'/><author><name>yussy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12099114398161822887</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://i8.photobucket.com/albums/a16/yusnitayusoff/Image051.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20104193.post-115677254878458497</id><published>2006-08-28T05:13:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-08-28T09:23:30.316-07:00</updated><title type='text'>the games you play</title><content type='html'>oh yay. had to go through the trouble of recovering my password before i could type this entry out. if you observe carefully, the last entry was dated just a week back. of late, i've been really forgetful. i misplaced my hp phone bill for the second time so now, i'll have to wait for the next one and of course i'm gonna freak myself out when i look at the figure the next time. plus, i've got to fork out triple one buckaroos to replace the battery for my digicam. O_0&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;if i remembered correctly, the last few sentences i heard from you the other day might probably serve as a warning. i'm aware that the motive was to get even with me. i guess now the prank has began. *shrugs* i'm not sure if someone i know is behind this but i'm pretty sure that particular person i have in mind is my biggest suspect. i know it's not right to start pointing fingers or make accusations against anyone as i haven't got enough proof. one thing i observe is that there's some kind of resemblance to how this is being carried out. well, shall wait and see.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;made a trip down to daiso and ikea on the same day. i was so tempted to get everything i could lay my hands on. colourful paper, ribbons, boxes of crayons and some other art and craft materials. in the end, i got myself a big box from daiso and two even bigger boxes from ikea to store my art supplies and maybe i can use it to store some of my shoes too. =)&lt;br /&gt;somehow, ah moy pop a visit into my mind when i mentioned daiso and reminded me of the little, little quarrels we used to have when i tried to stop her from buying unnecessary stuffs. oh those were the days. *sigh*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;oh btw, would like to take this opportunity to thank everyone for the b'day wishes, smses, cards and gifts. really appreciate it a lot. =)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20104193-115677254878458497?l=hersilentwhispers.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hersilentwhispers.blogspot.com/feeds/115677254878458497/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20104193&amp;postID=115677254878458497' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20104193/posts/default/115677254878458497'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20104193/posts/default/115677254878458497'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hersilentwhispers.blogspot.com/2006/08/games-you-play.html' title='the games you play'/><author><name>yussy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12099114398161822887</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://i8.photobucket.com/albums/a16/yusnitayusoff/Image051.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20104193.post-115617269058776869</id><published>2006-08-21T06:42:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-08-21T08:25:42.646-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>thanks to a dear colleague of mine, i got embarrassed at work today. thanks ahh..&lt;br /&gt;no, i'm not gonna give details of what exactly happened. anyhow, i was fortunate i had a good reason that helped save myself from furthur embarrassment. after that particular incident, i'm not really sure how i'm gonna face my coming mondays without feeling weird(?). that supposedly 'this is so relaxing- i'm lovin it' one hour slot would turn into 'let's do it quickly and get it over and done with'. and i know my other colleagues won't make it any easier for me. maybe.. maybe i should start acting busy or something and volunteer to pick up phonecalls or attend to parents who are picking up their kids. hmm.. maybe more suspect cases of hfmd after tea break every monday afternoon though it means entertaining spoilt brats and risk myself getting infected. haha.&lt;br /&gt;i wouldn't mind doing anything and everything except sitting for that slot in the presence of my two dearest colleagues, who are not actually suppose to be present but how ironic, they always appear at such perfect timing to tell me things that i didn't ask, don't want to know and don't care at all. ok, not really. haha. =p&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20104193-115617269058776869?l=hersilentwhispers.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hersilentwhispers.blogspot.com/feeds/115617269058776869/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20104193&amp;postID=115617269058776869' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20104193/posts/default/115617269058776869'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20104193/posts/default/115617269058776869'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hersilentwhispers.blogspot.com/2006/08/thanks-to-dear-colleague-of-mine-i-got.html' title=''/><author><name>yussy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12099114398161822887</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://i8.photobucket.com/albums/a16/yusnitayusoff/Image051.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20104193.post-115487305948799098</id><published>2006-08-06T04:58:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-08-06T07:10:18.556-07:00</updated><title type='text'>call it off and we'll be happy people!</title><content type='html'>everyone was feeling estatic during the staff meeting when we're told that the centre will be operating only until 2pm on the eve of national day. hmm..&lt;br /&gt;however, our happiness didn't last long when the principal came up with a 'splendid' idea that we're having a staff retreat and got each of us to offer some suggestions. well, not that we weren't happy either but it was as if everyone had agreed to gang up and tried to be as un-cooperative as possible.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;observe the following exchange of conversation between different staffs and principal:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;me: (upon hearing what principal said) err... u mean we're having it here? as in in sch?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;principal: no.. no.. it won't be in school. we don't want to think about school. we'll go out for some bonding session and get to know one another better. it's the time to let our hair down.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;me: (not convinced enough) err... ok. hmm.. maybe eating session? steamboat? seoul's garden?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;staff A: i don't want to go. u all go la. auntie very old already. eat and eat later fat lei.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;staff B: how about high tea? (knowing clearly her intentions was to suggest a rather expensive place)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;principal: hmm... it's 2-6pm. no lunch or dinner.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;staff B: it's not lunch or dinner. that's why it's called high tea.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(at this point of time, i forcefully bit into my lower lips to prevent myself from letting out a giggle)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;principal: oh. ok. we shall see about that. how about karaoke session? we eat and hang out until 6pm.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;staff C: ok good. u all sing la. i sleep cause i don't sing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;principal: how about we go for a movie?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;staff B: how do we get to know one another better since we can't talk in the movies.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;principal: (grins sheepishly)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;the second time, i couldn't help it any longer, proved myself that i was a complete asshole as I let out a laugh, loud enough for everyone at the meeting to hear.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;up to date, no one knows about the final plan yet. the principal has the final say and we shall wait and see what she has decided for us. imagine a group of 8 between 20-55 years of age, made up of totally different people who shares nothing in common and speak different languages. i just don't know how and what is there to talk about. i'm hoping that everyone will be such a bunch of spoilsports and not agree to whatever she has to say if the plan involves hanging out till 6pm.&lt;br /&gt;oh well, worry i shall not because it has never been difficult for them to try to be difficult anyway. haha.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20104193-115487305948799098?l=hersilentwhispers.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hersilentwhispers.blogspot.com/feeds/115487305948799098/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20104193&amp;postID=115487305948799098' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20104193/posts/default/115487305948799098'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20104193/posts/default/115487305948799098'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hersilentwhispers.blogspot.com/2006/08/call-it-off-and-well-be-happy-people.html' title='call it off and we&apos;ll be happy people!'/><author><name>yussy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12099114398161822887</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://i8.photobucket.com/albums/a16/yusnitayusoff/Image051.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20104193.post-115461326626909236</id><published>2006-08-03T05:34:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-08-03T07:37:05.036-07:00</updated><title type='text'>now tell me where and when this begins...</title><content type='html'>yes, it's been long since i've updated. i don't need anyone to tell me that. thank you very much. and yup, certain things have changed my mind about moving. =)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i was down with the flu bug and got the doctor to certify yours truly unfit for duty for 2 days. woot.&lt;br /&gt;but of course this couldn't have happen without having to burn a hole in my pocket. i don't remember having to pay this much the last time i visited the doctor but then again, that was almost 5 donkey years ago. a very big jump i see in the figure there. i'm aware that medical bills are getting more expensive but i didn't realise that it was THAT expensive. tsk..tsk..&lt;br /&gt;gah. that's what i get for refusing to get my butts down to the polyclinic instead.&lt;br /&gt;i just hate waiting in the queue along with other people with many different illnesses. i don't know.. it's like you're sick and surrounded with many sick people, you get even sicker right? anyway, i made full use of my two days leave by doing a lot of catching up with my sleep. oh the cough syrup does magic. it doesn't stop my cough instantly of course but it made me fall asleep almost immediately as my head touches the pillow. maybe in future, if i face any difficulties falling asleep, i know what will do the trick. heh.&lt;br /&gt;poor mom got a little irritated when i kept asking her if the food i was having &lt;em&gt;da basi&lt;/em&gt; (soury taste because it's spoilt) and got her to taste them as well. in the end, after realising my tastebuds weren't working very well, i left everything eaten halfway.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;was feeling all hyped up for work with sean paul blasting in my ears all because it's a thursday so that means i'm left with one more weekday/working day (&lt;em&gt;ya rite. i have to come back this saturday la&lt;/em&gt;.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;as usual, i reached the school gate, placed my slippers into one of the cubbyholes and then decided to pause for a moment as I stared at this pair of footwear at the top of mine. i thought they look familiar like i've seen them before somewhere, in a similiar kind of setting but i just can't seem to remember where it was.&lt;br /&gt;and so, i thought it was just me and one of my thoughts again but no, my instincts were right. guess who greeted me at the doorstep in front of the sliding door just as surprised as I was?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;TA-DAH!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;it was none other than my ex FP 3.1 field attachment partner a.k.a the only one who pays attention to OB/HRM lectures during those poly days. *smacks forehead*&lt;br /&gt;i can't believe my eyes. the world is really small la!&lt;br /&gt;ok my meanies must be sniggering, giggling and laughing really hard now.&lt;br /&gt;ya la, my 'best friend' is now my colleague la. cannot is it? *rolls eyes*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;_&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*sidetrack*&lt;br /&gt;pardon me, it was purely coincidental that i was watching s'pore idols as i was typing this entry.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;OMG! HOW CAN HADI MIRZA BE THE BOTTOM FOUR???!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;sorry i just can't help it.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20104193-115461326626909236?l=hersilentwhispers.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hersilentwhispers.blogspot.com/feeds/115461326626909236/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20104193&amp;postID=115461326626909236' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20104193/posts/default/115461326626909236'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20104193/posts/default/115461326626909236'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hersilentwhispers.blogspot.com/2006/08/now-tell-me-where-and-when-this-begins.html' title='now tell me where and when this begins...'/><author><name>yussy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12099114398161822887</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://i8.photobucket.com/albums/a16/yusnitayusoff/Image051.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20104193.post-115271766729831678</id><published>2006-07-12T06:32:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-07-12T08:41:26.533-07:00</updated><title type='text'>warm welcome to horrorland!</title><content type='html'>all the acting and pretence are getting ridiculously absurd. goodness gracious, i've never seen so much drama happening in just a day. if weeping crocodile tears is the only option for one to have his/her way, then I shall follow suit and shed a bucketful for you. i bet i can do it a lot better if i want to. just question yourself.. how old are you? to think that you would resort yourself to such acts at your age, something must be really really wrong with you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;so tired of seeing the special privilledges and treatment only certain people are entitled to. quit trying to cover things up and save your breath from trying to explain yourself. it's so darn obvious, you don't have to hide no more. it didn't take long for us to figure that one out cause we're no fools whom you can meddle with. those mind games playing sure aren't working are they?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;it's really a pitiful sight to witness people whom are respected by others bend and break rules. what more, it's even more shameful to learn that they've actually been set by them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;O_0&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;guess there's nothing to name and status ey?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;gah. life's so full of drama. didn't know the entire world is made up with weird humans with so many different personalities. but i don't deny that their quirky and quirks somehow keeps me alive. if they don't exist, life wouldn't be so interesting at all would it?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;my gosh, i can't believe i've wasted my time typing this senseless entry when i've got three million and one better things to do. i must've made you awfully bored. oh do forgive my rantings.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20104193-115271766729831678?l=hersilentwhispers.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hersilentwhispers.blogspot.com/feeds/115271766729831678/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20104193&amp;postID=115271766729831678' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20104193/posts/default/115271766729831678'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20104193/posts/default/115271766729831678'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hersilentwhispers.blogspot.com/2006/07/warm-welcome-to-horrorland.html' title='warm welcome to horrorland!'/><author><name>yussy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12099114398161822887</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://i8.photobucket.com/albums/a16/yusnitayusoff/Image051.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20104193.post-115211661765147555</id><published>2006-07-05T07:38:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-07-05T09:44:59.320-07:00</updated><title type='text'>scardy cat plays pretend</title><content type='html'>It's one of the many embarrassing moments I have to go through at work almost every other day but today was especially embarrassing (well, almost) that've I've decided to blog about it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Being in a centre which is surrounded by green (there's a thick forest/jungle just behind the centre),my children and i get frequent visits from unexpected, funny and scary looking creatures. Just the other day, I spotted this insect which looks like an exact replica of a bee, only that it's blue and shiny. There was another time when the kids started screaming on top of their lungs while they were washing their hands in the bathroom. I decided to investigate to see what the commotion was all about.&lt;br /&gt;Lo and behold! A big, fat wriggly centipede greeted me just outside the bathroom door. It was doing this some kind of funny dance on the floor which somehow reminded me of beyonce shaking her booty in one of her many music videos. You know, the one with the pink panther? Anyway, never in my life have I seen a well fed centipede before.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, back to today's incident. This time round, a gigantic buzzing bee decided to pay a visit to my class. As usual, the kids were screaming in hysteria when the stupid bee started flying towards them. I got a little frustrated as the class was out of control and that was when I decided to use my usual tactic haram to keep them quiet. I told them,"The more you scream, the nearer the bee will get to you as bees are attracted to noises."&lt;br /&gt;Hahaha... Don't ask me where in the name of fish did I pick/learn/read that from.&lt;br /&gt;I think I'm the terrible teacher who teach your kids the wrong things so be definite sure not to send them to my centre especially if they're ages between three to four. Heh.&lt;br /&gt;Unfortunately, after having said that (my tactic haram), the bee decided to test me out by making a detour and started buzzing towards my direction. Knowing how much flying insects irks me, I got a little scared, started to dodge away from the stupid insect and took quick steps backwards. On seeing how I reacted towards the bee, one of the kids exclaimed,&lt;br /&gt;" Teacher Yus, you also scared ah?" Trying to hide myself from furthur embarrassment, I then replied, "No la. The bee's flying towards my eye. I don't want to go blind." Hahaha..&lt;br /&gt;Seconds later, thankfully, the stupid bee decided to end its life by visiting the fan blades this time (see, I have my reasons for calling the bee, stupid). The bee then got thrown onto the floor and the kids started screaming again. Knowing that the bee was obviously dead, I started taking some newspaper, gave the dead bee a good, hard smack making my acting all convincing by pretending as if the bee was still alive. I then disposed it into the bin, turned towards the kids and exclaimed, "There, the bee's dead now. Don't need to be afraid anymore." And with that, the kids yay-ed and cheered while some even thanked me for helping to kill the stupid bee!&lt;br /&gt;hahahaha....&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20104193-115211661765147555?l=hersilentwhispers.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hersilentwhispers.blogspot.com/feeds/115211661765147555/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20104193&amp;postID=115211661765147555' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20104193/posts/default/115211661765147555'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20104193/posts/default/115211661765147555'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hersilentwhispers.blogspot.com/2006/07/scardy-cat-plays-pretend.html' title='scardy cat plays pretend'/><author><name>yussy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12099114398161822887</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://i8.photobucket.com/albums/a16/yusnitayusoff/Image051.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20104193.post-115125371724757820</id><published>2006-06-25T08:13:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-06-25T09:41:57.326-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>i was sitting patiently at the bus stop while waiting for dad to pick me up from work when a sudden thought struck my mind as i was observing the oncoming vehicles across the street. i started imagining how it would be like to dash across the street and get hit by a vehicle. would i be as fortunate as I was 8 years ago, given another chance to live, only to suffer from minor cuts and bruises here and there? haha. scary thoughts, i know. nah, i wasn't thinking of suicide or anything like that. it was just mere thinking.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;anyway, I wasn't aware that they've just started imposing this 11pm curfew for teenagers below the age of 17 until my little sister told me. i've actually read about it in the news a few weeks back but didn't realise they've started implementing it for real.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;observe the following exchange of conversation:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;sister: (looks at watch, time shows close to 10pm) eh faster i have about another hour.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;me: another hour... for? wait la. i want to pay my bill first.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;sister: ya la. curfew what. cannot be seen in public after 11pm.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;me: HAHAHAHAHAHAHA!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;seriously la, i almost fell on the floor trying to control my laughter.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;_&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;the plan was to dine at simpang bedok. my dad doesn't know his way around the eastern part of singapore so we spent about an hour or so trying to locate the place (we ended up in bedok food centre and some other coffee shops in bedok). in the end, we gave up and settled down at some food court along siglap area as we were already starving. not only does my dad suck at trying to figure the roads, he never fails to crack us up with his erm.. 'blur-ness'.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;dad: eh ni meja berapa? (dad actually asking for table number to settle our dinner bill but his words came out as if he was asking 'how many tables?')&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;mum: berapa eh? ah... 2 meja, 4 kerusi. (2 tables and 4 chairs)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;sister and me: HAHAHAHAHA!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ok, actually it doesn't sound as funny when u read it. lol.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20104193-115125371724757820?l=hersilentwhispers.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hersilentwhispers.blogspot.com/feeds/115125371724757820/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20104193&amp;postID=115125371724757820' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20104193/posts/default/115125371724757820'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20104193/posts/default/115125371724757820'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hersilentwhispers.blogspot.com/2006/06/i-was-sitting-patiently-at-bus-stop.html' title=''/><author><name>yussy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12099114398161822887</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://i8.photobucket.com/albums/a16/yusnitayusoff/Image051.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20104193.post-115090607531586830</id><published>2006-06-21T07:14:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-06-21T09:44:48.303-07:00</updated><title type='text'>a date i must remember to remember</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;long bus rides have always been love. however, the greatest challenge of all is to stay awake for the whole entire journey simply because&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;One&lt;/strong&gt;. you wouldn't want to wake up, only to realise that you've missed your stop and find yourself at some ulu place that doesn't look like a part of singapore&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Two.&lt;/strong&gt; you wouldn't want to get spotted with your most unglam facial expression you can ever give.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Three.&lt;/strong&gt; you never know when a cute guy might just walk in and plop onto the seat right next to you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Four. &lt;/strong&gt;you &lt;em&gt;might&lt;/em&gt; drool and snore without even realising while sleeping.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Five.&lt;/strong&gt; you're just not suppose to sleep or feel sleepy because you're only a few minutes to the start of your 9 freaking long hours of work shift. oh what a good start of your day!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Six.&lt;/strong&gt; it's just hard to fake a smile or be extra extra cheerful and greet everyone with a warm HELLO GOOD MORNING once u step into your workplace after you've let out a pretty long and loud YAAAAWWWWWNNN a few seconds before.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;alright. let's put all the excuses aside. i won't deny the fact that i'm not a morning person la. as simple as that. if not for that phonecall, i wouldn't be able to wake up and might have just missed my stop. thanksss love.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;my, slightly a little taller (than myself) little sister turns 15 today .(yes la, she's super proud of it!) now, she's the real 15, who at times, acts like 20. it's such a blessing to be the youngest in the family because you always get what you want and have everything your own way, like getting a mobile phone from your parents on your last b'day and.....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;TA-DAH!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;another mobile phone the following year!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;hmm.. people say we look so much alike while some even claimed that we look like twins. *smacks forehead* whatever it is, she's still my little sister. i think i'll just let you decide for yourself aite. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4682/1337/320/sis%20n%20me.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;"Oh please grow a lot taller and much bigger so that we (more like &lt;strong&gt;YOU&lt;/strong&gt; actually) have no more reasons and excuses to share clothes, shoes err... and bags too?" &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Yes, that's my wish for my little sister on her 15th b'day! ;)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Happy 20th b'day to ayu poodle (ooopss) too! =)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;and this day also calls for another celebration. yippie yay. =)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:78%;"&gt;there were moments that were pretty tough at times but it's only through those that've made me grown into a much stronger person I never believe I could be.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:78%;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20104193-115090607531586830?l=hersilentwhispers.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hersilentwhispers.blogspot.com/feeds/115090607531586830/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20104193&amp;postID=115090607531586830' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20104193/posts/default/115090607531586830'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20104193/posts/default/115090607531586830'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hersilentwhispers.blogspot.com/2006/06/date-i-must-remember-to-remember.html' title='a date i must remember to remember'/><author><name>yussy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12099114398161822887</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://i8.photobucket.com/albums/a16/yusnitayusoff/Image051.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20104193.post-115072599109601678</id><published>2006-06-19T06:46:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-06-20T07:37:21.586-07:00</updated><title type='text'>of memories &amp; broken promises</title><content type='html'>letters from green gate have arrived. extra wide smile. =))))&lt;br /&gt;on the contrary, guilty I am cause so far, I've done nothing... yes, nothing at all.&lt;br /&gt;imagine how dissapointed they are.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;one moment I'm over the moon but I feel really lousy right now.&lt;br /&gt;gah.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;did a little tidy up of my junks and stumbled upon the toel sleng phamplet. shove it somewhere in between some yr 3 lec notes without much hesitation. it still gives me the creeps when i look at it.&lt;br /&gt;viewed the clips all over again and the funny thing is, no matter how many times I've watched it, I can't stop myself from laughing hard until my sis had to pop her head behind the screen to see what the commotion was all about. yea, she couldnt help it but laughed her ass along too when she saw the hindi mtv. the one where I played hide and seek with ayu behind lin, the tree and ulf sang muneeru valiba. oh the dikir barat too which I was always the spoiler who kept giving one extra clap and the whole grp had to do it all over again. how I sounded like a retard with my satu dua tiga that they got sue to take over my role instead.&lt;br /&gt;the chicken dance at angkor watt. can't believe we had the cheek to do something like that in a holy place. oh i remembered there was this taupok video too where all of us came crashing on the mattress when I got on top of lin but it's just too bad that that clip and along with some others got a little screwed up and we don't get to watch it anymore.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;but the most unforgettable moments were of course, the time spent with the sunshines behind that big green gate. &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;still feeling kinda bumped that i've got to give this september visit a miss.&lt;br /&gt;hmm.&lt;br /&gt;maybe one day.&lt;br /&gt;one fine day when the time is right. oh and the cash too of course.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20104193-115072599109601678?l=hersilentwhispers.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hersilentwhispers.blogspot.com/feeds/115072599109601678/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20104193&amp;postID=115072599109601678' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20104193/posts/default/115072599109601678'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20104193/posts/default/115072599109601678'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hersilentwhispers.blogspot.com/2006/06/of-memories-broken-promises.html' title='of memories &amp; broken promises'/><author><name>yussy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12099114398161822887</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://i8.photobucket.com/albums/a16/yusnitayusoff/Image051.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20104193.post-115062913239712791</id><published>2006-06-18T03:51:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-06-18T04:12:12.406-07:00</updated><title type='text'>improportionate</title><content type='html'>Can't help but gawk at gorgeous skinny girls. Look in the mirror and all I can see is a sad rectangle with countless amount of fats all over staring back at me. Not kidding. I've decided to take the extra half hour to start the whole sumo and dumbells routine again. Hopefully.. hopefully.. hopefully  I'm able to keep up.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20104193-115062913239712791?l=hersilentwhispers.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hersilentwhispers.blogspot.com/feeds/115062913239712791/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20104193&amp;postID=115062913239712791' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20104193/posts/default/115062913239712791'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20104193/posts/default/115062913239712791'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hersilentwhispers.blogspot.com/2006/06/improportionate.html' title='improportionate'/><author><name>yussy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12099114398161822887</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://i8.photobucket.com/albums/a16/yusnitayusoff/Image051.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20104193.post-115060400345105033</id><published>2006-06-17T19:52:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-06-17T21:33:12.343-07:00</updated><title type='text'>we've graduated! yay!</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4682/1337/1600/grad%20words.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4682/1337/320/grad%20words.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4682/1337/1600/IMG_1192.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4682/1337/320/IMG_1192.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; The guest speaker made the most sensible and interesting speech ever. Hmm.. deep thoughts. I guess what she said was true after all. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4682/1337/1600/meanies.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4682/1337/320/meanies.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; the people who made my life in poly complete, they are the reason why I look forward to school and they are the ones who made me missed school like a lot a lot.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;Observe ayu's outfit. I almost fainted when I appeared at the door of Lec 68. Some of the fms guys were like shouting "eh kendarat.. kendarat" when I stood at the stage (ayu was only a few metres away frm me) while waiting for my turn to receive the scroll. At that moment, I felt like shoving a stick up their asses la can. 'Same same but different' what!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4682/1337/1600/DSC06751.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4682/1337/320/DSC06751.jpg" border="0" /&gt; &lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;love you guys. =)&lt;/p&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4682/1337/1600/four%20of%20us.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4682/1337/320/four%20of%20us.jpg" border="0" /&gt; &lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;It's been 3 years. Been one hell of a ride for us but I'm glad we stayed strong.&lt;br /&gt;Thanks for everything lovelies.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4682/1337/1600/viv%20and%20gang.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4682/1337/320/viv%20and%20gang.jpg" border="0" /&gt; &lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Classmates and lecture mates I miss. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20104193-115060400345105033?l=hersilentwhispers.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hersilentwhispers.blogspot.com/feeds/115060400345105033/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20104193&amp;postID=115060400345105033' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20104193/posts/default/115060400345105033'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20104193/posts/default/115060400345105033'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hersilentwhispers.blogspot.com/2006/06/weve-graduated-yay.html' title='we&apos;ve graduated! yay!'/><author><name>yussy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12099114398161822887</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://i8.photobucket.com/albums/a16/yusnitayusoff/Image051.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20104193.post-115056666022958346</id><published>2006-06-17T10:15:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-06-17T22:37:45.440-07:00</updated><title type='text'>temptations</title><content type='html'>It's been soooo long but that vicious cycle, that sick cycle carousel is back. The reason why I stopped blogging and deleted the older entries.&lt;br /&gt;A promise I made to myself at the very beginning not to blog bout it anymore cause I know once I start, I won't be able to stop.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sigh.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*edited post*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;The similarities are uncanny. The whole thing bears a resemblance to a soccer match. &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Imagine the soccer ball. &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;We tend to kick it away when it's there and go searching and running after it when it's not. &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Catch my drift?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Right. I'd better end here before the fingers do anymore harm by typing.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20104193-115056666022958346?l=hersilentwhispers.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hersilentwhispers.blogspot.com/feeds/115056666022958346/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20104193&amp;postID=115056666022958346' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20104193/posts/default/115056666022958346'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20104193/posts/default/115056666022958346'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hersilentwhispers.blogspot.com/2006/06/temptations.html' title='temptations'/><author><name>yussy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12099114398161822887</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://i8.photobucket.com/albums/a16/yusnitayusoff/Image051.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20104193.post-115056338376878388</id><published>2006-06-17T08:46:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-06-17T10:59:06.830-07:00</updated><title type='text'>What can be worser than this?</title><content type='html'>PTM today was really an eye (and ears) -opener. Learnt that most kids are total opposite of what they are in terms of character at home and in school. Well, not surprising though cause I was just the same when I was a kid too. I figured I'm a mix of C (the perfectionist with zero level of self-esteem and confidence) and T (the good kid in sch turned devil at home).&lt;br /&gt;There was this particular question asked by one of the parents, in which I wasn't allowed to answer cause the principal had to butt in before I could open my mouth to speak. Hmm.. Wondering what exactly the question was?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Quoted in verbatim:&lt;br /&gt;"How come so many teachers left? 4 different teachers in less than 5 months... I believe this has something to do with the school." (yesss. good question. he could tell couldn't he?)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Principal told parent the reason they left was because the teachers realised that they are not suited for the job as an early childhood educator.. yada.. yada.. yada.. (list down tasks of an early childhood educator)&lt;br /&gt;Like wtf. This parent isn't stupid la ok. How can a teacher with 6 years of experience made a sudden realization during her two weeks stay that she's not suited to be an early childhood educator? Get my point? This definitely makes no sense. Right??&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Bad enough, I'll be taking over the 10am-7pm shift starting this monday. But that depends what time the last child leaves.&lt;br /&gt;Good point is I get an extra half an hour of sleep but this also means doing closing for the entire year. Yes, closing for the entire year if I'm lucky enough cause what I heard from reliable sources, the working schedule hardly changes (for the years to come).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No more friday nights with sammy starting next week. =(&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20104193-115056338376878388?l=hersilentwhispers.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hersilentwhispers.blogspot.com/feeds/115056338376878388/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20104193&amp;postID=115056338376878388' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20104193/posts/default/115056338376878388'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20104193/posts/default/115056338376878388'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hersilentwhispers.blogspot.com/2006/06/what-can-be-worser-than-this.html' title='What can be worser than this?'/><author><name>yussy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12099114398161822887</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://i8.photobucket.com/albums/a16/yusnitayusoff/Image051.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20104193.post-115037663518481639</id><published>2006-06-15T05:17:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-06-15T09:05:20.946-07:00</updated><title type='text'>one of a kind</title><content type='html'>It started out with assumptions you made about me followed by accusations.&lt;br /&gt;For the millionth time, may I know what's your freaking motive for telling me about those stuffs? Things that I seriously don't give a hoot about. They just get more and more absurd.&lt;br /&gt;Hmm.. Are you trying to tell me that I'm the cause for all the things you're doing to yourself now so that I'll live only to regret one day? 0_O&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20104193-115037663518481639?l=hersilentwhispers.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hersilentwhispers.blogspot.com/feeds/115037663518481639/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20104193&amp;postID=115037663518481639' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20104193/posts/default/115037663518481639'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20104193/posts/default/115037663518481639'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hersilentwhispers.blogspot.com/2006/06/one-of-kind.html' title='one of a kind'/><author><name>yussy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12099114398161822887</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://i8.photobucket.com/albums/a16/yusnitayusoff/Image051.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20104193.post-115004368441452942</id><published>2006-06-11T09:23:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-06-11T09:34:46.943-07:00</updated><title type='text'>believe it or not?</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4682/1337/1600/Yussy%20and%20I.0.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4682/1337/320/Yussy%20and%20I.0.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Yes, we are really that young. We're happy 15 year olds. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;hahahahaha.&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/20104193-115004368441452942?l=hersilentwhispers.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hersilentwhispers.blogspot.com/feeds/115004368441452942/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20104193&amp;postID=115004368441452942' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20104193/posts/default/115004368441452942'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20104193/posts/default/115004368441452942'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hersilentwhispers.blogspot.com/2006/06/believe-it-or-not.html' title='believe it or not?'/><author><name>yussy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12099114398161822887</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://i8.photobucket.com/albums/a16/yusnitayusoff/Image051.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20104193.post-114813531033519593</id><published>2006-05-20T07:22:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-05-20T07:28:30.336-07:00</updated><title type='text'>who cares?</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4682/1337/1600/9299738920060331024453.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4682/1337/320/9299738920060331024453.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4682/1337/1600/9299738920060331023054.0.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4682/1337/320/9299738920060331023054.0.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and so what if they say neoprints are so secondary school?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20104193-114813531033519593?l=hersilentwhispers.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hersilentwhispers.blogspot.com/feeds/114813531033519593/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20104193&amp;postID=114813531033519593' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20104193/posts/default/114813531033519593'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20104193/posts/default/114813531033519593'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hersilentwhispers.blogspot.com/2006/05/who-cares.html' title='who cares?'/><author><name>yussy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12099114398161822887</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://i8.photobucket.com/albums/a16/yusnitayusoff/Image051.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20104193.post-114810523937100633</id><published>2006-05-19T21:11:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-05-20T07:18:41.470-07:00</updated><title type='text'>the tide is high but i'm hanging on</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Weekend's finally here again. yay. hmm.. so i survived the first week at my new job. double yay. It gets pretty insecure when you're new and not so experienced and the workload's pretty heavy plus the schedule that's a little too fast paced unlike other places that I've been attached to. I have my own class to handle and I have to plan lessons for another class, monthly progress report, cookery and art &amp; craft every week, worksheets to be completed in a month, readers programme, phonics etc. There wasn't any orientation/getting familiar with the environment/setting or suchlike. I had to conduct lessons without having a clue what they are supposed to be learning, get some things up on two bulletins on the first day and submit a whole week lesson plans the next day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Ah ambik kau! &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Now I know why there WASN'T ANY negotiation regarding my expected salary lar. They willingly agreed WITHOUT hesitation. tsk.tsk.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh there was another teacher with 6 years of teaching experience before I came in and she decided to stay for only 2 weeks because she couldn't keep up with the pace. 0_o&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My centre came out in the news not too long ago which started out from ho hums created by a parent of a child who was (yes, his mom decided to withdraw him from the centre. thank god.) from my class. It came out in the newpaper not long after she wrote in to the forum. She threatened to sue the management when she found out that they had delayed in reporting a suspected HFMD case involving a teacher. What shocked me was, this particular parent psycho-ed some other parents so that they would want to withdraw their children too. *shakes head* &lt;em&gt;batu api sungguh&lt;/em&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm still at the very beginning of the survival stage where I heaved a sigh of relief at the end of each day, telling and smiling to myself, 'I got through the day. Yay, i did it!'&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hmm.. I've been really forgetful lately. I headed to the library with the intention of getting some books for my lessons. I took 3 books, scanned them and found out I had only brought home two. Like what's my freaking problem!?!? If u ask my room mates while we were over at cambodia, they would agree too. Don't know how many times I've misplaced lin's comb and the mosturizer shared between sue, lin and myself. *smacks forehead*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's 1:46pm on a saturday and I feel like hitting the bed once again. *sheesh* No I shall not let my weekends go to waste.&lt;br /&gt;I spy with my little eye, a bag of Betty Crocker chocolate chips cookie mix sitting on the kitchen table. =)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20104193-114810523937100633?l=hersilentwhispers.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hersilentwhispers.blogspot.com/feeds/114810523937100633/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20104193&amp;postID=114810523937100633' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20104193/posts/default/114810523937100633'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20104193/posts/default/114810523937100633'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hersilentwhispers.blogspot.com/2006/05/tide-is-high-but-im-hanging-on.html' title='the tide is high but i&apos;m hanging on'/><author><name>yussy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12099114398161822887</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://i8.photobucket.com/albums/a16/yusnitayusoff/Image051.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20104193.post-114754440864015859</id><published>2006-05-13T10:20:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-05-13T21:32:53.163-07:00</updated><title type='text'>a big mistake</title><content type='html'>i've stopped listening to this particular song for quite some time already but tonight, I so badly wanted to hear it again. i thought listening to it once was already enough, but no, my fingers had to click it a bloody dozen times. ='(&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20104193-114754440864015859?l=hersilentwhispers.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hersilentwhispers.blogspot.com/feeds/114754440864015859/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20104193&amp;postID=114754440864015859' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20104193/posts/default/114754440864015859'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20104193/posts/default/114754440864015859'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hersilentwhispers.blogspot.com/2006/05/big-mistake.html' title='a big mistake'/><author><name>yussy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12099114398161822887</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://i8.photobucket.com/albums/a16/yusnitayusoff/Image051.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20104193.post-114717977448227066</id><published>2006-05-09T05:50:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-05-09T06:04:26.886-07:00</updated><title type='text'>i've longed to know. don't you too?</title><content type='html'>I've always wanted a perfect ending. Now I've learned the hard way that some poems don't rhyme, and some stories don't have a clear beginning, middle and end.&lt;br /&gt;Have patience with everything that remains unsolved in your heart. Like locked rooms, and like books written in a foreign language. Do not now search for the answers. They cannot now be given to you because you could not live them. It is a question of experiencing everything. At present you need to live the question. Perhaps you will gradually, without even noticing it, find yourself experiencing the answer, some distant day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;The Young Poet&lt;/em&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20104193-114717977448227066?l=hersilentwhispers.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hersilentwhispers.blogspot.com/feeds/114717977448227066/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20104193&amp;postID=114717977448227066' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20104193/posts/default/114717977448227066'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20104193/posts/default/114717977448227066'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hersilentwhispers.blogspot.com/2006/05/ive-longed-to-know-dont-you-too.html' title='i&apos;ve longed to know. don&apos;t you too?'/><author><name>yussy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12099114398161822887</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://i8.photobucket.com/albums/a16/yusnitayusoff/Image051.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20104193.post-114717764124637405</id><published>2006-05-09T04:29:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-05-09T06:18:38.763-07:00</updated><title type='text'>miss them. miss them. miss them a lot.</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4682/1337/1600/brownie%20sellers.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4682/1337/320/brownie%20sellers.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; the day the brownie sellers wore matching pretty, pretty, pretty, pretty butterfly tattoos &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4682/1337/1600/24217462_5db088663d_m.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4682/1337/320/24217462_5db088663d_m.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;no prize for guessing where this was taken&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This afternoon, I received a call from them. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;one after another. =) &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;unbelievable? too much of a coincidence? I think so too.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;the last meet up with ah moi was the day before I flew off and that was more than a month ago. oh btw, I wanna thank my fav ah moi too for taking the trouble to help settle my library fines. sank siew so very much. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;the last meet up with neeti was during the potluck. hmm... about 2 months back I suppose.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;the last time I've seen my burmese woman was erm... a day before the last day of school? and can someone please tell me when was that? &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Right now, I'm having dejavu and amnesia at the same time. I think I've forgotten this one before.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;When I was questioned when exactly I've left school, I can't seem to remember. I resort to the usual tactic of &lt;em&gt;hembus-ing&lt;/em&gt; whatever number that comes to mind. anywhere along the mid of february of course. erm.. was it? *shrugs*&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20104193-114717764124637405?l=hersilentwhispers.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hersilentwhispers.blogspot.com/feeds/114717764124637405/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20104193&amp;postID=114717764124637405' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20104193/posts/default/114717764124637405'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20104193/posts/default/114717764124637405'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hersilentwhispers.blogspot.com/2006/05/miss-them-miss-them-miss-them-lot.html' title='miss them. miss them. miss them a lot.'/><author><name>yussy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12099114398161822887</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://i8.photobucket.com/albums/a16/yusnitayusoff/Image051.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20104193.post-114707944952034384</id><published>2006-05-07T23:57:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-05-08T06:06:07.366-07:00</updated><title type='text'>hardworking or hardly working?</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4682/1337/320/DSC06469.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;NOT!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;(a pic of my oversized ugly work uniform)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;facts and things you never know about:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;One&lt;/strong&gt;. The long alley to the staff entrance which I call the 'Hall of Shame' .That's where workers hold their illegal gathering with their clans. I just hate passing through the alley especially when I'm alone. Don't ask why.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Two&lt;/strong&gt;. Mistaken identity (read my earlier post) and the impression people have on me (first impression that is and yes, I did prove them wrong. hee) Oh, and one of my colleagues actually thought I was only 18. grr. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Three&lt;/strong&gt;. My job's a real bore. I don't get many customers therefore, I'm always dying to approach them. I always look bored and free that many mistook me for the information counter staff (when the counter is at level one, i'm at level 2 btw). They ask for directions and where they could get their items from. I just love the look on their faces when I reply, "oh, go look for the staffs in blue. i'm just only a promoter". *grins*&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Four&lt;/strong&gt;. What I do mostly about 3/4 of the time, is to watch the same scene of the movie, Narnia repeated over and over again without getting bored.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Five&lt;/strong&gt;. They pay me to entertain and do demos for bored uncles and old men waiting for their wives. Most of my customers ranges from middle-age men to those using walking sticks. Ok, I make this sound so horribly wrong. haha. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Six&lt;/strong&gt;. I love playing hide-and-seek and merry-go-round in between boxes. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Seven&lt;/strong&gt;. I love doing other people's job even though I'm not paid for it.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Eight&lt;/strong&gt;. I enjoy gawking at gorgeous girls and pretty kids. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Nine&lt;/strong&gt;. I get a lot of surprise visits from my boss, supervisor and even people I have no clue who they are. There's one that's beyond surprise that I had to run quickly and hide. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Ten&lt;/strong&gt;. Ok, I have been contemplating whether I should tell you this. Hmm *taps fingers*... ok, I shall let the truth be known. I've been wearing the same shirt for 4 days/3 days straight because I was given ONLY ONE uniform and my working days and hours doesn't allow the time for me to have it washed. hahaha. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;-&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;-&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;-&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;-&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;-&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;-&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;-&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;-&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;hmmm, u might think that my job doesn't sound so bad after all.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;alright, let's try again...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4682/1337/1600/DSC06471.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4682/1337/320/DSC06471.jpg" border="0" /&gt; &lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;bleagh. &lt;p align="left"&gt;Neways, my job contract has ended and it kinda slipped off my mind to ask how I'm supposed to return my uniform. bah.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20104193-114707944952034384?l=hersilentwhispers.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hersilentwhispers.blogspot.com/feeds/114707944952034384/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20104193&amp;postID=114707944952034384' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20104193/posts/default/114707944952034384'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20104193/posts/default/114707944952034384'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hersilentwhispers.blogspot.com/2006/05/hardworking-or-hardly-working.html' title='hardworking or hardly working?'/><author><name>yussy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12099114398161822887</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://i8.photobucket.com/albums/a16/yusnitayusoff/Image051.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20104193.post-114674794187877085</id><published>2006-05-04T05:33:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-05-04T06:29:56.360-07:00</updated><title type='text'>are you one?</title><content type='html'>This is the reason why I hate people who use short forms when they text messages...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ad: hey when u free?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;me: don't know. maybe next week. y?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ad: oh mi3 is out!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;me: (thinking mi3 meaning me, referring to self) huh? u quit your job already?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ad: no la giler! mission impo3 is out in cinemas la!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;me: oh... hahaha.. eh your short form too short already la. u using mini-micro ah? i thought what sey.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;N i OsO DuN LiK PpL WhO tYpE LiK TiS k.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;argh. very irritating can!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20104193-114674794187877085?l=hersilentwhispers.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hersilentwhispers.blogspot.com/feeds/114674794187877085/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20104193&amp;postID=114674794187877085' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20104193/posts/default/114674794187877085'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20104193/posts/default/114674794187877085'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hersilentwhispers.blogspot.com/2006/05/are-you-one.html' title='are you one?'/><author><name>yussy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12099114398161822887</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://i8.photobucket.com/albums/a16/yusnitayusoff/Image051.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20104193.post-114655636214787929</id><published>2006-05-01T23:41:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-05-02T00:52:42.210-07:00</updated><title type='text'>17th-19th april chalet at pasir ris</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="left"&gt;these are the long overdue pics from the chalet that sammy organised. it was hella fun. magic card tricks, endless rounds of taiti (i love taiti though i'm a virgin at it coz i always get good cards. heh), crazy forfeits and things we do, pizzas, long walk to the nearest 7 eleven in the wee morning, dvd marathon till everyone fell asleep, wild wild wet, playing scrabble and we all get brain dead when we (yana, sham, me) switched it to malay. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4682/1337/1600/gg.0.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4682/1337/320/gg.0.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; just like old times. =) &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4682/1337/1600/xx.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4682/1337/320/xx.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;we called it the dumb game really. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4682/1337/1600/DSC06401.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4682/1337/320/DSC06401.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;if you're smart enough, make a guess what happened next? &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4682/1337/1600/DSCF3375.0.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4682/1337/320/DSCF3375.0.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4682/1337/1600/DSCF3376.0.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4682/1337/320/DSCF3376.0.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4682/1337/1600/DSCF3371.0.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4682/1337/320/DSCF3371.0.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4682/1337/1600/DSCF3374.0.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4682/1337/320/DSCF3374.0.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4682/1337/1600/DSCF3387.0.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4682/1337/320/DSCF3387.0.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; we were stucked in the rain and the arcade and camera were the only form of entertainment. yana and i went crazy hitting the drums according to the rhythm. fyi, the game was for 8 yr olds and under. hahaha.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20104193-114655636214787929?l=hersilentwhispers.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hersilentwhispers.blogspot.com/feeds/114655636214787929/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20104193&amp;postID=114655636214787929' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20104193/posts/default/114655636214787929'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20104193/posts/default/114655636214787929'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hersilentwhispers.blogspot.com/2006/05/17th-19th-april-chalet-at-pasir-ris.html' title='17th-19th april chalet at pasir ris'/><author><name>yussy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12099114398161822887</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://i8.photobucket.com/albums/a16/yusnitayusoff/Image051.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20104193.post-114654855914418049</id><published>2006-05-01T21:45:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-05-27T00:28:26.233-07:00</updated><title type='text'>mistaken identity</title><content type='html'>The first day at work.....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;worker 1: hello&lt;br /&gt;me: hi.&lt;br /&gt;worker 1: you're new here?&lt;br /&gt;me: yup&lt;br /&gt;worker 1 : what's your name?&lt;br /&gt;me: yus.. yus****&lt;br /&gt;worker 1: oh melayu eh?&lt;br /&gt;me: ak ah.&lt;br /&gt;worker 1: oh. ingatkan bukan melayu tadi.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;that's not all. read on...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;worker 2: *smiles*&lt;br /&gt;me: *smiles back*&lt;br /&gt;worker 2: your first day here?&lt;br /&gt;me: yes.&lt;br /&gt;worker 2: ok if u have any problem, come find me. i'm in charge of this area.&lt;br /&gt;me: okay sure.&lt;br /&gt;worker 2: asslm&lt;br /&gt;me: wsslm&lt;br /&gt;worker 2: eh dier melayu lah. mati-mati i thought you're philippines.&lt;br /&gt;me: huh? philippines? then kenape beri salam pulak?&lt;br /&gt;worker 2: oh testing aje.&lt;br /&gt;worker 2 and me: hahaha..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ok, it didn't stop here.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i went for my break alone, grabbed a can of lemon tea because i was too tired to eat and was half lying, half sitting on one of the seats while talking on the phone. a maid happen to be sitting right beside me and i noticed that she was observing me. right after i'm done with talking, i turned to her and smiled.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;me: waiting for your ma'am?&lt;br /&gt;maid: *nods head* you philippines?&lt;br /&gt;me: huh? no..no.. i'm singaporean.&lt;br /&gt;maid: not philippines?&lt;br /&gt;me: no..no..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;what is wrong with the people at suntec city??!!&lt;br /&gt;oh, have i told u that even samphors thought i was from phillipines too??&lt;br /&gt;i might as well exchange my pink ic for a blue one (actually, it's purple not blue. i know coz i've seen audrey's. heh.)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20104193-114654855914418049?l=hersilentwhispers.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hersilentwhispers.blogspot.com/feeds/114654855914418049/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20104193&amp;postID=114654855914418049' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20104193/posts/default/114654855914418049'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20104193/posts/default/114654855914418049'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hersilentwhispers.blogspot.com/2006/05/mistaken-identity.html' title='mistaken identity'/><author><name>yussy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12099114398161822887</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://i8.photobucket.com/albums/a16/yusnitayusoff/Image051.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20104193.post-114580163400498583</id><published>2006-04-23T05:48:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-05-27T00:29:40.096-07:00</updated><title type='text'>anyone making a trip down to sch?</title><content type='html'>I have yet to pay the school library fine. Today I finally bothered to log into the sch's library opac to check. And guess how much I owe them?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;err.. $0.80? hello? $0.80 hokay??!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Like wth, I have to make a trip down to sch just to settle my $0.80 fine and my transport fee to and fro cost more than 4 times that amount la. *smacks forehead* And the best thing is that I wasn't the the one who borrowed those books lor. &lt;em&gt;thanks lor burmese woman. grr.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm not exactly sure if the school will retain our dip cert if we fail to settle the fine. Just imagine how the scenario will be like on the convocation day itself.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;mc: (reads full name aloud)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(upon hearing my name being called, walks up stage to receive cert)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;mc: oh wait. looks like someone wants to make an important annoncement.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;(The convention centre fell silent for a moment. All attention turned towards a blurry image of a figure walking towards the stage. As the image gets closer, everyone soon recognized that it was the librarian. The one with curly hair, squeaky voice and loves to catch students who eat, drink or sleep in the library to be exact.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;library auntie: (grabs microphone from mc) oi you! yes you!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;me: huh?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;library auntie: you owe me $0.80! you'd better pay up!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;me: I forgot to bring my cashcard. next time can?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;library auntie: no no! no next time! pay now!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;me: But I really got no cashcard with me now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;library auntie: I don't care! Pay up! (chases me around with broomstick)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;me: arrrrrgggggghhhhh!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;HAHAHAHA!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ok I know that's a little too over exaggerating. But if it really were to happen, that'll be the worst nightmare in the history of ngee ann poly.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20104193-114580163400498583?l=hersilentwhispers.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hersilentwhispers.blogspot.com/feeds/114580163400498583/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20104193&amp;postID=114580163400498583' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20104193/posts/default/114580163400498583'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20104193/posts/default/114580163400498583'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hersilentwhispers.blogspot.com/2006/04/anyone-making-trip-down-to-sch.html' title='anyone making a trip down to sch?'/><author><name>yussy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12099114398161822887</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://i8.photobucket.com/albums/a16/yusnitayusoff/Image051.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20104193.post-114551416211849900</id><published>2006-04-19T22:12:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-04-19T23:22:42.173-07:00</updated><title type='text'>what grow on peppers?</title><content type='html'>I've been running to the bathroom ever since last night (and still am this morning).&lt;br /&gt;It must have been that three drops of tobasco sauce I added onto that cheesy, garlic bread or the spicy chicken.&lt;br /&gt;Oh btw, I just found out garlic bread taste great with cheese but that's not the point.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, the tobasco tasted funny. Very sourish and not spicy at all.&lt;br /&gt;Only after I had my last bite of garlic bread, I began to observe the label on that tobasco bottle which reads somewhere along this line,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Our sauce is made from peppers kept in barrels for 3 years......"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;sheesh.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But then again.. maybe... maybe it's not the tobasco sauce after all.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It might probably be the after effect of the reading of label that set me thinking and imagining (i can assure you I have very good imagination) what else might have been in the barrels while the peppers are being kept for 3 whole freaking years.&lt;br /&gt;You know, for instance, moulds and fungi grow on bread only after a few days and it makes you kinda wonder what might grow on peppers after 3 weeks? or maybe 3 months? hmm.... ok.. what about 3 years?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ok ok. I shall stop here.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20104193-114551416211849900?l=hersilentwhispers.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hersilentwhispers.blogspot.com/feeds/114551416211849900/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20104193&amp;postID=114551416211849900' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20104193/posts/default/114551416211849900'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20104193/posts/default/114551416211849900'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hersilentwhispers.blogspot.com/2006/04/what-grow-on-peppers.html' title='what grow on peppers?'/><author><name>yussy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12099114398161822887</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://i8.photobucket.com/albums/a16/yusnitayusoff/Image051.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20104193.post-114509534541137535</id><published>2006-04-15T02:01:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-04-15T03:05:56.346-07:00</updated><title type='text'>and which part do you not understand?</title><content type='html'>And just when I thought that being far away for two whole weeks would change everything. but i guess it's true that no matter how far you try to run away from problems, they'll just keep coming back. and sometimes, the problems just get even worser.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm tired of the games you play. It's sucking up and draining out all my energy. Your dumb acts and attempts at seeking attention's getting more and more ridiculous. I do admire your perseverance though but hell, they irritate the shit out of me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I get really afraid everytime I hear that familiar ringing tone and at times, when the ringing doesn't stop, I just feel like smashing the phone down onto the floor.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The lying has to stop. maybe, someday.&lt;br /&gt;sometimes, I just have to learn to say no. it isn't that hard is it?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm raising the white flag. I'm quitting the game.&lt;br /&gt;BUT... NO. That doesn't mean you've won.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;read my signs.&lt;br /&gt;is it that difficult to just go away?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20104193-114509534541137535?l=hersilentwhispers.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hersilentwhispers.blogspot.com/feeds/114509534541137535/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20104193&amp;postID=114509534541137535' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20104193/posts/default/114509534541137535'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20104193/posts/default/114509534541137535'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hersilentwhispers.blogspot.com/2006/04/and-which-part-do-you-not-understand.html' title='and which part do you not understand?'/><author><name>yussy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12099114398161822887</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://i8.photobucket.com/albums/a16/yusnitayusoff/Image051.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20104193.post-114449361219459045</id><published>2006-04-08T02:29:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2006-04-08T07:35:51.360-07:00</updated><title type='text'>one day at tanjong pagar</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="left"&gt;The plan was to meet at 630pm at tanjong pagar mrt and she was late again. When she reached Tanjong Pagar control station she didnt know where to go. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;So this clever girl uses her gut feeling and walked towards the exit from the right and found herself surrounded by some ulu buildings. Somehow her mobile was not behaving well on that day too and she had trouble making calls. She got through ulf only after her third attempt and found out that everyone was already in the building except for lin and herself. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;Gave lin a call only to find out she just reached tanjong pagar mrt. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;lin: where are you?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;her: i dunno. outside tanjong pagar mrt. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;lin: which part?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;her: err... got s'pore airlines building and err... i see 7 eleven.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;lin: which exit?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;her: oh the right one. i went all the way to the right.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;lin: come meet me at the control station. it's the left exit la.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;It wasnt easy to locate the place. yes, we saw the keppel tower but there was no sign of rock climbing or anything like that. So finally, it's ayu to the rescue. *phew*&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4682/1337/1600/DSCN6079.0.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4682/1337/320/DSCN6079.0.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Trying my hands at repelling. ulf got so scared when she found out I was gonna do it for her. muahahaha. oh don't worry. she's fine. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4682/1337/1600/DSCN6125.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4682/1337/320/DSCN6125.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; you even have time to make some friends and stop to chat for a while. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4682/1337/1600/DSCN6126.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4682/1337/320/DSCN6126.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; hi, my name's ulf. what's yours? &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4682/1337/1600/DSCN6087.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4682/1337/320/DSCN6087.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4682/1337/1600/DSCN6088.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4682/1337/320/DSCN6088.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; oei! faster take photo before I fall. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;At the end of the day, everyone was feeling, like how prince wei wei would put it as, 'super lapar'. It was dinner/supper at the nearby BK. Student meal using student passes it is, though we're no longer considered students. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;heck. And I bet I can still use it for a few more years. hahaha. =P&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;so when's the next rock climbing session? anyone? $3 only. cheap.. cheap..&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20104193-114449361219459045?l=hersilentwhispers.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hersilentwhispers.blogspot.com/feeds/114449361219459045/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20104193&amp;postID=114449361219459045' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20104193/posts/default/114449361219459045'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20104193/posts/default/114449361219459045'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hersilentwhispers.blogspot.com/2006/04/one-day-at-tanjong-pagar.html' title='one day at tanjong pagar'/><author><name>yussy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12099114398161822887</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://i8.photobucket.com/albums/a16/yusnitayusoff/Image051.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20104193.post-114448634593470823</id><published>2006-04-08T01:10:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-04-08T01:52:28.530-07:00</updated><title type='text'>happy belated b'day yyy</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;It wasn't easy for sami and me to hunt for a chocolate cake. And when we say chocolate we mean 100% chocolate chocolate and nothing else. Non even a teeny weeny bit of coffee, blueberry and what nots. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;So finally we settled for this one. Pretty small yet sinful and we had a hard time trying to finish it up. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4682/1337/1600/DSC06260.0.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4682/1337/320/DSC06260.0.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; how pretty.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4682/1337/1600/DSC06258.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4682/1337/320/DSC06258.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;           sniff.. sniff&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4682/1337/1600/DSC06256.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4682/1337/320/DSC06256.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;and then u cut...&lt;/p&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4682/1337/1600/DSC06255.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4682/1337/320/DSC06255.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;and then u lick it. yummy.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4682/1337/1600/DSC06264.3.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4682/1337/320/DSC06264.3.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;oh. 2 candles means 20. =) &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;so its 2 down and 2 more to go. my turn next. but I CAN wait.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20104193-114448634593470823?l=hersilentwhispers.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hersilentwhispers.blogspot.com/feeds/114448634593470823/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20104193&amp;postID=114448634593470823' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20104193/posts/default/114448634593470823'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20104193/posts/default/114448634593470823'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hersilentwhispers.blogspot.com/2006/04/happy-belated-bday-yyy.html' title='happy belated b&apos;day yyy'/><author><name>yussy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12099114398161822887</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://i8.photobucket.com/albums/a16/yusnitayusoff/Image051.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20104193.post-114429949255217102</id><published>2006-04-05T20:14:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-04-05T21:58:12.596-07:00</updated><title type='text'>the ordinary, not so ordinary and out of the ordinary</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4682/1337/1600/DSC03717.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4682/1337/200/DSC03717.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; funny looking but edible plants. this particular girl balances the whole tray of these over her head and sells them along mekong river. somewhat similar to lotus seeds but i find it quite tasteless. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4682/1337/1600/DSC00230.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4682/1337/200/DSC00230.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; squashed dead mouse which prolly had been run over many times. we thought that it was some kind of plastic bag at first until one of us took a closer look at it. *yikes*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4682/1337/1600/DSC03655.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4682/1337/200/DSC03655.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; and i wonder if the young kids are trained to sit and balance themselves at the back of the bicycle. (click on the pic)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4682/1337/1600/DSC05652.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4682/1337/200/DSC05652.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; shops along the streets...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4682/1337/1600/DSC05670.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4682/1337/200/DSC05670.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; while some are much more modern-looking. very big contrast...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4682/1337/1600/DSC05904.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4682/1337/200/DSC05904.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; motorcycle on top of van??&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4682/1337/1600/DSC05668.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4682/1337/200/DSC05668.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; over load....&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4682/1337/1600/DSC00242.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4682/1337/200/DSC00242.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; this is worse. no breathing space... imagine if one person lets out one stinking bomb... *faints*&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4682/1337/1600/Reei%20163.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4682/1337/200/Reei%20163.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;this is definitely way, way more comfier though we did complain and grumble about having 15 squeezed into a mini van&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4682/1337/1600/DSC05675.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4682/1337/200/DSC05675.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; some houses use cemented broken glass bottles, a cheaper alternative to barbed wires. very innovative indeed. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4682/1337/1600/DSC06019.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4682/1337/200/DSC06019.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Outside Lucky supermarket where they have this board with photos of shoplifters. Yup, they make them pose with the stuffs that they've stolen. Ciggies are one of the most common stolen items.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4682/1337/1600/Reei%20247.0.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4682/1337/200/Reei%20247.0.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;the immigration officers over at phnom penh airport use this cute, fluffy, curly-wurly golden hair dog to help carry out their checks and operations. So much for my fear of dogs, I somehow find this one super cute that I don't have to warn everyone or squeeze Sue's arms and go screaming chekai!!! chekai!! (dog) &lt;/p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20104193-114429949255217102?l=hersilentwhispers.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hersilentwhispers.blogspot.com/feeds/114429949255217102/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20104193&amp;postID=114429949255217102' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20104193/posts/default/114429949255217102'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20104193/posts/default/114429949255217102'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hersilentwhispers.blogspot.com/2006/04/ordinary-not-so-ordinary-and-out-of.html' title='the ordinary, not so ordinary and out of the ordinary'/><author><name>yussy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12099114398161822887</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://i8.photobucket.com/albums/a16/yusnitayusoff/Image051.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20104193.post-114244702197907552</id><published>2006-03-16T02:22:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-03-15T10:31:14.896-08:00</updated><title type='text'>it's not my fault. you made me.</title><content type='html'>ever heard of the boy who cried wolf?&lt;br /&gt;if i could be the wolf, i would have eaten the boy up as well.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I simply don't understand why some people have to resort to lying through their teeth to get what they want and they'll start to confess only after they think that they've accomplish their mission. Worst still, they pretend to be someone else and all along the other party wasn't aware that he/she has been talking to a total stranger.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Their way of getting out of this?&lt;br /&gt;Umpteen apologies and many promises never to do it again. They think it's as simple as that? What make them think the other party would be able to trust them in future?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh, and the best thing is, he/she claimed 'Hey, at least I'm telling you the truth now. It wasn't easy for me you know".&lt;br /&gt;If you were expecting my reply to be? 'Oh, I really appreciate that and I'm proud of you for having the courage to admit it... i'm so proud of you boy... so bloody proud" or somewhere along that line, I'd tell ya, even if pigs really could fly, in your freaking dreams boy!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Imagine how would you feel if you put yourself in my shoes?&lt;br /&gt;You'd react the same way I did or probably worser.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No words can describe how downright disappointed I am with you. I'm not picking up your calls or reply to your so called 'urgent' messages so quit trying.&lt;br /&gt;Even if you claim that you're lying on your deathbed, how would I be able to know that you're telling the truth?&lt;br /&gt;I know I'm mean but please don't get me wrong. I'm not the sort of person who seeks revenge or bear grudges against anyone (I tink).&lt;br /&gt;Just that this is the least I could do to make you learn your lesson. You deserved to be punished for your undeserving acts. Am I right? Yes?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;the moon said to me,&lt;br /&gt;"if your friend doesn't reply to your message, why don't you leave your friend?"&lt;br /&gt;i looked back to the moon and asked,&lt;br /&gt;"does your sky ever leave you when you don't shine?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;sorry, this doesn't work on me boy. not this time.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20104193-114244702197907552?l=hersilentwhispers.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hersilentwhispers.blogspot.com/feeds/114244702197907552/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20104193&amp;postID=114244702197907552' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20104193/posts/default/114244702197907552'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20104193/posts/default/114244702197907552'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hersilentwhispers.blogspot.com/2006/03/its-not-my-fault-you-made-me.html' title='it&apos;s not my fault. you made me.'/><author><name>yussy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12099114398161822887</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://i8.photobucket.com/albums/a16/yusnitayusoff/Image051.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20104193.post-114245117205144256</id><published>2006-03-15T10:33:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-03-15T11:32:52.093-08:00</updated><title type='text'>my sunshine</title><content type='html'>So everyone (my family) went grocery shopping together for my trip. Canned tuna, sardines, kaya spread, biscuits, energy bars (ulf's idea), instant noodles. (I hope I would be able to squeeze everything in my bag).&lt;br /&gt;And after that, we're off to west coast for our last family dinner before my trip. They had their usual ikan bakar, sambal kangkung and cockles while I had mee hoon goreng (i always try to be different from the rest). =p&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Halfway through dinner, my favourite wak called to ask if she could tag along to send me off this friday. It came as a surprise there because I wasn't expecting her to remember the exact date I'll be flying off because she was told bout a couple of months back.&lt;br /&gt;I remembered laughing at one of my friends when she told us that her whole bunch of relatives are sending her off like as if she'll be going for 2 years!&lt;br /&gt;So makcik, if you're reading this, laugh all you want back at me. =p&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, if you ask how my preparation is coming along, believe it or not, I have not begin packing yet. To think that I'll be leaving in less than 2 days time! On top of that, I'll be meeting part of my meanies in the afternoon tomorrow. *screams in horror*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;makcik: i cant believe i'll be leaving in about a day's time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;me: me too. i haven started packing yet and I'm meeting the girls tmr.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;makcik: ah.. tu lah.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;me: ala.. takpe lah. rindu la. hehe.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i really miss the other half of my meanies. like a lot.&lt;br /&gt;it's so nice to hear those familiar voices and laughter again. =)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20104193-114245117205144256?l=hersilentwhispers.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hersilentwhispers.blogspot.com/feeds/114245117205144256/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20104193&amp;postID=114245117205144256' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20104193/posts/default/114245117205144256'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20104193/posts/default/114245117205144256'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hersilentwhispers.blogspot.com/2006/03/my-sunshine.html' title='my sunshine'/><author><name>yussy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12099114398161822887</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://i8.photobucket.com/albums/a16/yusnitayusoff/Image051.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20104193.post-114207973602954920</id><published>2006-03-11T02:30:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-03-11T04:22:16.086-08:00</updated><title type='text'>lesson learnt</title><content type='html'>A minute or probably just a second too late. Whatever it is, I should have known that there isn't always a second chance to everything. &lt;br /&gt;I made that mistake once and I'm thankful for the ample opportunities that was given to me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;However, this time round, I wasn't as lucky. Missed once. No more chances.&lt;br /&gt;Zero. Zilch.  =(&lt;br /&gt;Hopefully, this will be the last.&lt;br /&gt;If you were trying to guess what I'm whining about, yes it's me and my stupid missed calls again. Nevertheless, I really appreciate the letter that've been sent. At least, they didn't keep me waiting. So it's been confirmed that I won't be getting a place at iyad. Or maybe not any sooner. Oh well.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Plan B- failed.&lt;br /&gt;Plan C- no response. so,gone.&lt;br /&gt;Plan A- not pinning high hopes on this one though I really want it badly. *sigh*&lt;br /&gt;I have to start thinking on Plan D. Or else I would have to skip, hop, leap, jump, jog, run or even sprint all the way to Plan Z, which is known as the &lt;em&gt;teramatlahsungguhbachin&lt;/em&gt; option among my meanies. hahaha.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At times like this, it's funny how I can get all excited at the sight of unfamiliar numbers flashing on my mobile when I receive incoming calls. Also my attempts at trying to fake a joyful 'hello' so the person at the other end would not be able to tell that they have just given me a wake up call unintentionally. =P&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Something I've picked up during EOP lec on interviews and phonecalls. Your body position; whether you're standing, sitting, lying down affects the tone of your voice.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So what would be the best way then?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Stand. Yeap,  no slouching.&lt;br /&gt;Dress appropriately Oh yes. Your eyes are not playing tricks on you... you have to dress appropriately.&lt;br /&gt;Take a deep breath and talk into the phone.&lt;br /&gt;Lastly, don't forget to smile even though the person at the other end won't be able to see you (which I find ridiculous too at first). But yes, it does make a lot of difference whether you're smiling or not.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20104193-114207973602954920?l=hersilentwhispers.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hersilentwhispers.blogspot.com/feeds/114207973602954920/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20104193&amp;postID=114207973602954920' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20104193/posts/default/114207973602954920'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20104193/posts/default/114207973602954920'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hersilentwhispers.blogspot.com/2006/03/lesson-learnt.html' title='lesson learnt'/><author><name>yussy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12099114398161822887</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://i8.photobucket.com/albums/a16/yusnitayusoff/Image051.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20104193.post-114175367491166809</id><published>2006-03-07T08:42:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-03-07T09:47:54.953-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Almost done with the typing of activities for the yep trip. Songs, games, art activities. Wasn't really planning to get started on them today but somehow, I wanted to get it over and done with quickly.&lt;br /&gt;sigh. If only.. if only I could work at this pace for my past assignments. lol.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Was telling mom that we'll be using the US currency over at phnom penh cambodia cause the Riels doesn't have much value over there.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mom: Wow! US dollars? the stuffs must be expensive la like that?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me: Dunno. Don't think so la. Maybe we're just using the US currency but the stuffs might be cheap. *shrugs*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mom: How much you want to bring? How much your friends bringing? Means I have to fork out about 1k just for your trip la. $500 for your spending. Hmm... might not be enough for 2 weeks.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me: HUH??!! mak oooi! (in verbatim) No need that much la.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mom: U sure or not?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;LOL.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I got this mini info from some website...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;The official currency in Cambodia is the Riel which come in denominations of 100, 200, 500, 1000, 2000, 5000, 10000, 50000 and 100000 notes. However, in the major towns and cities, US dollars can be freely spent though travelers are recommended to use smaller denomination notes as change may be difficult. Most places will refuse old, tatty or damaged US bills. Due to the economic problems in the region, the currency has slipped from 2500 Riels to 3700-3900 per one US dollars (at the time of this writing), meaning Cambodia is an even better value for money tourist destination than before. Popular local and international currencies can be exchanged openly and freely. Major credit cards are only accepted in a few places so traveler cheques or cash are recommended.&lt;br /&gt;In Cambodia, there are no ATM machines, thus getting cash from your credit card is nearly impossible. Travelers may cash advances from their credit card at some shops, but the latter will charge high handling fees.&lt;br /&gt;Traveler Cheques (TC)  - You can exchange TC at any bank in Cambodia, but you have to pay about 2-4% extra for converting it into US$ bill.&lt;br /&gt;As an advice, you should carry USD cash (with $20 and $100 notes) in addition to traveler cheques and credit card. Do not exchange all of your cash into the local currency at one time, but gradually. It is very difficult to exchange back to foreign currency - practically impossible for ordinary tourists!&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have to make sure I spend all my riels if I'm exchanging my cash to the local currency.&lt;br /&gt;If not, they'll either go to my bro's collection or I'll literally just burn them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I didn't know that we have to pay so much to visit Angkor Wat. According to Mr Chua, the last time he visited that place, he had to pay US$55 for the entrance fee. *faints*&lt;br /&gt;But that's not all. We need to take a flight to actually go there from where we'll be staying and the air fare cost about 269 buckaroos. OMG!! That's crazy can! Seriously, I don't mind the bus even if the journey gonna take hours or even days to get there if the school's not paying for our air tickets.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I need to get some stuffs for the trip even though I haven't started packing at all and I'm not really sure what I'll be needing for my trip. heh.&lt;br /&gt;My feet and hands are starting to itch. Time for some serious retail theraphy soon. =)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20104193-114175367491166809?l=hersilentwhispers.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hersilentwhispers.blogspot.com/feeds/114175367491166809/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20104193&amp;postID=114175367491166809' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20104193/posts/default/114175367491166809'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20104193/posts/default/114175367491166809'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hersilentwhispers.blogspot.com/2006/03/almost-done-with-typing-of-activities.html' title=''/><author><name>yussy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12099114398161822887</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://i8.photobucket.com/albums/a16/yusnitayusoff/Image051.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20104193.post-114068300777224403</id><published>2006-02-22T22:34:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-02-23T00:30:55.743-08:00</updated><title type='text'>will it end here?</title><content type='html'>Many apologies to my dearies for talking so long to update considering school has ended and that means I have all the time in the world to blog.&lt;br /&gt;Not in the mood to blog so let the pictures do the talking shall we?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4682/1337/1600/DSC00600.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4682/1337/320/DSC00600.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Gonna miss our 'no-where-else-to-hangout-spot'. Where else but canteen 2!&lt;br /&gt;No more complaining about expensive, tasteless food and 'mee-minyak'.&lt;br /&gt;No more vomit-smell coming from the cheese from the spagetti.&lt;br /&gt;No more 'washing-eyes' sessions with my dearies.&lt;br /&gt;No more rushing for spots with powerpoint for our lappies.&lt;br /&gt;No more snapple green-tea and lime.&lt;br /&gt;No more trying to make the auntie at the &lt;a href="mailto:p@c"&gt;p@c&lt;/a&gt; shop to return your belongings (handphones, thumbies) that you have accidentally left behind.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4682/1337/1600/DSC00045.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4682/1337/320/DSC00045.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;All the cam-mentel-ling (cam-whoring sounds so wrong. I don't understand why some people feel proud when they refer themselves as whores..) sessions with my dearies. And I'll definitely gonna miss their super crazy antics.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4682/1337/1600/DSC00005.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4682/1337/320/DSC00005.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;No more rushing to lec 38 every monday morning,&lt;br /&gt;No more long walks up the steep hills,&lt;br /&gt;No more giving calls to friends who are late,&lt;br /&gt;No more zuzarte counting the minutes to lock the doors before 0915hrs,&lt;br /&gt;No more 'my- heart- beats- faster when mini-microphone's being passed around' during lectures when zuzarte's checking if we have done our readings,&lt;br /&gt;No more dancing sessions.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4682/1337/1600/DSC00585.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4682/1337/320/DSC00585.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Avneet Kaur and Irliana Tay, the first two peole I get to know when I entered poly.&lt;br /&gt;And the newest addition to the meanies family, Yati.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4682/1337/1600/212235.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4682/1337/320/212235.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4682/1337/1600/P1040164.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4682/1337/1600/P1040164.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4682/1337/320/P1040164.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Last but not least, my dearest 3A01....&lt;br /&gt;It's like a tradition for us at the end of every semester....&lt;br /&gt;Lots of photo-taking sessions.&lt;br /&gt;A mini-gathering...&lt;br /&gt;Words of encouragement...&lt;br /&gt;Hugs were exchanged..&lt;br /&gt;Promises made for future plans...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Before we bid goodbyes...&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Hopefully one day if I happen to stumble upon this particular entry of mine on my blog (if it still exists at that point of time that is) I'll be able to look back at my poly days...&lt;br /&gt;How fortunate I am to have come across these people in my life.&lt;br /&gt;Friends I'm blessed with..&lt;br /&gt;The ones who are able to tell when I'm feeling out of sorts,&lt;br /&gt;The ones who assured me that everything's gonna turn out fine.&lt;br /&gt;The ones whom I know I can turn to when I need a listening ear.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Right now, we're taking every possible chances and opportunities to plan for gatherings and meet-ups as much as time allows us to do so.&lt;br /&gt;But the question is, till when?&lt;br /&gt;Few years down the road, will we still be as close?&lt;br /&gt;Will be able to make time for one another?&lt;br /&gt;Will we call each other up and talk about our life?&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Hmmm... questions that made all of us ponder for a moment.&lt;br /&gt;But sadly, no one has the answer to that, which I guess only time will tell. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20104193-114068300777224403?l=hersilentwhispers.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hersilentwhispers.blogspot.com/feeds/114068300777224403/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20104193&amp;postID=114068300777224403' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20104193/posts/default/114068300777224403'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20104193/posts/default/114068300777224403'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hersilentwhispers.blogspot.com/2006/02/will-it-end-here.html' title='will it end here?'/><author><name>yussy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12099114398161822887</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://i8.photobucket.com/albums/a16/yusnitayusoff/Image051.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20104193.post-114019534476362018</id><published>2006-02-17T08:10:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-02-17T08:55:44.826-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I was surprised to receive that call. Ok, so it was a missed call actually.&lt;br /&gt;Yeap. Like again. Why does this have to happen all the time?&lt;br /&gt;Anywhow, I was glad they left a message on my voice mail this time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Made it to the next round.&lt;br /&gt;The final lap. I hope I won't screw this up. =S&lt;br /&gt;But in case I do, I've made up my mind. I'm gonna try again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;School has ended but we're left with 2 more assignments and grooming/make up class.&lt;br /&gt;At the meantime, happy mugging everyone!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;fast forward. 17th march. wheeeeeeeee...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20104193-114019534476362018?l=hersilentwhispers.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hersilentwhispers.blogspot.com/feeds/114019534476362018/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20104193&amp;postID=114019534476362018' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20104193/posts/default/114019534476362018'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20104193/posts/default/114019534476362018'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hersilentwhispers.blogspot.com/2006/02/i-was-surprised-to-receive-that-call.html' title=''/><author><name>yussy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12099114398161822887</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://i8.photobucket.com/albums/a16/yusnitayusoff/Image051.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20104193.post-113991788189541013</id><published>2006-02-14T03:33:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-02-14T03:51:23.910-08:00</updated><title type='text'>little secret</title><content type='html'>It's not that I don't want to...&lt;br /&gt;It's them. They're the problem. They're my worst nightmare.&lt;br /&gt;and...&lt;br /&gt;I've broken that promise I've made. I'm sorry.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If I wasn't told, I wouldn't have known.&lt;br /&gt;Anyhow, I'm touched. Really am.&lt;br /&gt;Thanks for your concern.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well wishes.. =)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20104193-113991788189541013?l=hersilentwhispers.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hersilentwhispers.blogspot.com/feeds/113991788189541013/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20104193&amp;postID=113991788189541013' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20104193/posts/default/113991788189541013'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20104193/posts/default/113991788189541013'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hersilentwhispers.blogspot.com/2006/02/little-secret.html' title='little secret'/><author><name>yussy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12099114398161822887</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://i8.photobucket.com/albums/a16/yusnitayusoff/Image051.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20104193.post-113950527546320663</id><published>2006-02-09T05:35:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-02-09T09:14:35.500-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>*shouts out loud*&lt;br /&gt;HOORAY! IT'S OVER!&lt;br /&gt;happiieee?  YESSSSS!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Simulation test in the morning went pretty ok though I thought I didnt do well during the planning of the activity. It sucks when you're being paired up with someone who tries to control the planning just because she has the experience. So what???&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I know how we should go about planning the activity cause I've done it many times..."&lt;br /&gt;Oh what a brag! &lt;br /&gt;And the best thing is that she doesn't seem to want to listen when I offered some suggestions. Being me, I didn't try to argue one bit cause I know if I do, my points get deducted. So, I was really cool all along.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The students were then brought in. Two primary 5 malay boys who spoke malay throughout the entire activity. It was funny to hear them arguing among themselves. Every sentence they spoke ended with the word 'bodoh' (stupid). It was really funny la.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Oi! Ambik yang ini la bodoh!" (take this la.. stupid!)&lt;br /&gt;"Bukan situlah bodoh!" (not there.. stupid!)&lt;br /&gt;fyi, it was a game of uno stacko.&lt;br /&gt;When I started laughing, my partner laughed too though I wasnt sure if she understood what the boys were trying to say. oh wells...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was then time for self evaluation. We were supposed to evaluate on areas which we did well and what we feel we could improve on. Ah.. this is like a common thing to all ech'ians so I didnt have any problem trying to bull and my panel thought that what I wrote was pretty interesting. *grins*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I left the school, it started to drizzle and then it got heavier. I started to panic cause I wasn't sure how I could try to get a cab to school in the pouring rain. Count my lucky stars, I spotted a mercedez cab trying to make a u-turn.&lt;br /&gt;Oh what more could I ask for! Mr cabbie to the rescue! It was my first time riding a mercedez cab btw. heh.&lt;br /&gt;The cab driver even commented, "I saw you running. I know you were looking for a cab, that's why I made a u-turn."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Iep presentation on the second part of the day. as usual we were bombarded with questions. According to et, it was good that we didnt try to argue just to be on the safer side. Et then stood up for us after our presentation when belinda brought up some stuffs that doesnt relate to our problem statement.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Something smells fishy.&lt;br /&gt;I bet most people werent happy over some stuffs. terminology that we haven't heard of? now, where did that come from?  The point is, how can your own lecturer be one of the advisors as well? That's totally unfair especially when she's taking charge of moderating the grades. We were told that each advisor specialises in one area and handles two groups that are doing common topics. So, tell me which part of environmental awareness and language have something in common?&lt;br /&gt;Not something surprising actually. It started out with the selection of commitee members, activities they organised for the society which we have no idea about, choice of topics for lecs assignment which is as good as offering us no choice at all, the prom and then this. The department is corrupted? Well, why don't you decide?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;It's freaky when you have no idea some stranger's been observing you all this while. hmmm....&lt;/em&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20104193-113950527546320663?l=hersilentwhispers.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hersilentwhispers.blogspot.com/feeds/113950527546320663/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20104193&amp;postID=113950527546320663' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20104193/posts/default/113950527546320663'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20104193/posts/default/113950527546320663'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hersilentwhispers.blogspot.com/2006/02/shouts-out-loud-hooray-its-over.html' title=''/><author><name>yussy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12099114398161822887</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://i8.photobucket.com/albums/a16/yusnitayusoff/Image051.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20104193.post-113932250519854281</id><published>2006-02-07T05:12:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-02-07T06:49:42.663-08:00</updated><title type='text'>a very boring entry</title><content type='html'>ever wished for something...&lt;br /&gt;something that you've been wanting for so long..&lt;br /&gt;however, whenever the opportunity arises, you decide to hold back cause you know that it's the only best way.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;i've got a thousand and one things to say but i chose not to speak.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;i know that things can never be the same again. &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;how sad........&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;trying not to look back and making extra effort this time.&lt;br /&gt;the heart's crying but i've got no more tears left to shed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;14 days.&lt;br /&gt;i can't wait.&lt;br /&gt;i really need a break.&lt;br /&gt;somewhere far, far, far, away... to try to find some peace.&lt;br /&gt;maybe, i'm just finding means and ways to run away from problems, even if it's only for a short while.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;not going for prom anymore.&lt;br /&gt;chalet sounds a lot better don't you think?&lt;br /&gt;save cost and a whole lot more fun!&lt;br /&gt;but i don't wanna be in charge of food anymore. *shivers*&lt;br /&gt;ah.. shall not elaborate. and no, it wasnt the case of food poisoning or anything. heh.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20104193-113932250519854281?l=hersilentwhispers.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hersilentwhispers.blogspot.com/feeds/113932250519854281/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20104193&amp;postID=113932250519854281' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20104193/posts/default/113932250519854281'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20104193/posts/default/113932250519854281'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hersilentwhispers.blogspot.com/2006/02/very-boring-entry.html' title='a very boring entry'/><author><name>yussy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12099114398161822887</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://i8.photobucket.com/albums/a16/yusnitayusoff/Image051.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20104193.post-113898625085499026</id><published>2006-02-03T07:56:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-02-03T09:04:10.926-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Finally!</title><content type='html'>Ah.. so I finally managed to pick up the call.&lt;br /&gt;But not until their third attempt. =)))))&lt;br /&gt;And the best thing is, I got the call during iep discussion with ET. But I'm not complaining though.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm not really sure what will be going on on that day. Hope that it's not what I imagine it would be. But I have a great feeling that it is. Nope, I'm not scaring myself here. And the best thing is, I totally have no idea where Sengkang primary is.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;9 February 2006&lt;br /&gt;Two very important events happening on the same day.&lt;br /&gt;Sengkang to Clementi is freaking far. I just hope I'll be able to reach school before 1.30pm to sit in for the presentation and  most importantly, be prepared for my own too of course.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wish me luck. Lots and lots. =S&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thank u ET, for the angpaos and for letting us have the oranges we've given you.&lt;br /&gt;I love my advisor lah.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20104193-113898625085499026?l=hersilentwhispers.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hersilentwhispers.blogspot.com/feeds/113898625085499026/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20104193&amp;postID=113898625085499026' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20104193/posts/default/113898625085499026'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20104193/posts/default/113898625085499026'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hersilentwhispers.blogspot.com/2006/02/finally.html' title='Finally!'/><author><name>yussy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12099114398161822887</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://i8.photobucket.com/albums/a16/yusnitayusoff/Image051.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20104193.post-113892651846863724</id><published>2006-02-02T09:44:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-02-02T16:30:54.153-08:00</updated><title type='text'>one more chance please?</title><content type='html'>Ever wished you could turn the hands on the clock backwards even if it's only for half a second?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ever wanted something really badly and you missed it when u're almost about to get it?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ever felt like banging your head against the wall because of a stupid mistake?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If only I could turn back time...&lt;br /&gt;If only I was just in time to respond..&lt;br /&gt;If only I had reacted half a second faster..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;dang.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I tried my luck but wasn't lucky enough.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm so angry with myself.&lt;br /&gt;so mad. so pissed. so disappointed. so sad. so stupid.&lt;br /&gt;Fine.&lt;br /&gt;I'll just have to keep trying. Not giving up yet... until i get an answer.&lt;br /&gt;Either that or I'll just have to wish for miracles to happen...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;but then again, what makes me so sure that that was THE ONE I was waiting for?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;but i'm still sad though. :'(&lt;br /&gt;sigh 8794765493763 times.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20104193-113892651846863724?l=hersilentwhispers.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hersilentwhispers.blogspot.com/feeds/113892651846863724/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20104193&amp;postID=113892651846863724' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20104193/posts/default/113892651846863724'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20104193/posts/default/113892651846863724'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hersilentwhispers.blogspot.com/2006/02/one-more-chance-please.html' title='one more chance please?'/><author><name>yussy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12099114398161822887</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://i8.photobucket.com/albums/a16/yusnitayusoff/Image051.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20104193.post-113854813835096586</id><published>2006-01-29T07:02:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-01-29T07:22:19.490-08:00</updated><title type='text'>happy 20th b'day yana!</title><content type='html'>I should have posted this entry a few days ago.. But it doesn't really matter right?&lt;br /&gt;It's the thought that counts.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;27th january 2006&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Happy Twenteen B'day Nur Asriana Bte Ariffin!&lt;br /&gt;6 years of friendship and still counting... It's funny how we got closer. It started out during the sec one teacher's day dance or something. I didn't really fancy her when I first met her though. My first impression of her... &lt;em&gt;so kakak-kakak. &lt;/em&gt;With her uniform all tucked in and the skirt slightly above the waist level. &lt;em&gt;(&lt;/em&gt;I bet you didn't know) heh.&lt;br /&gt;And those were the donkey years..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Asriana right now?  Ah..so much change in her. I hope you had a wonderful b'day, (which I know you already did). I'm happy to see you happy darling! Love you lots!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 238px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 348px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" height="379" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4682/1337/320/DSC03907.jpg" width="266" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; see you on wednesday.. =)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20104193-113854813835096586?l=hersilentwhispers.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hersilentwhispers.blogspot.com/feeds/113854813835096586/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20104193&amp;postID=113854813835096586' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20104193/posts/default/113854813835096586'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20104193/posts/default/113854813835096586'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hersilentwhispers.blogspot.com/2006/01/happy-20th-bday-yana.html' title='happy 20th b&apos;day yana!'/><author><name>yussy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12099114398161822887</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://i8.photobucket.com/albums/a16/yusnitayusoff/Image051.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20104193.post-113854655979670548</id><published>2006-01-29T05:45:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-01-29T06:55:59.860-08:00</updated><title type='text'>FHM-Freaking Hopeless! i cant remember my Modules!</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;A conversation that happened a few minutes ago. My favourite ah moi called to ask about some stuffs regarding iep while getting her cousin's help to edit our video. &lt;/p&gt;ah moi: &lt;em&gt;yus, what does iep stands for? I don't have my notes with me.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;yus: &lt;em&gt;err... interdisciplinary project work? &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ah moi: &lt;em&gt;interdisciplinary your head la!&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;yus: &lt;em&gt;hahaha! then what? ok nvm, i'll go check out and get back to you later.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Somehow, I kept mixing up iep (independent education project) with ipw (interdisciplinary project work). Fyi, ipw was one of the subjects we had way back in secondary sch, which I feel was a total waste of time. Seriously I don't see the purpose of implementing ipw. All I could remember was we had to come back to sch on saturdays, did endless reasearch in the lab, did ppt. presentation and bake some cookies. A step in preparing students for tertiary education? hmm.. probably.&lt;br /&gt;oh wells...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh-kay, back to the conversation. After I've put down the phone, I was trying to recall what all the other acronyms of the other modules stands for, without referring to the module outline of course.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ASECS-  aaa... uhmm... ok, i give up la&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;PED- parent education de.. di.. umm.. erm..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;LECS- leadership effective communication? hahaha... crap!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;AMPYC- administrative management something.. something..(I don't know what p stands for) .....  for young children&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;EOP- english for occupational purposes (yes, i remember this one!)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;AST- advanced speech training (i'm positive this is 100% correct!)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;alright let's check how well i've faired...&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ASECS- adult supervison in early childhood setting&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;PED- parent education (ah.. close)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;LECS- leadership study&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;AMPYC- admin management programme for young children (this is pretty close too)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;EOP- english for occupational purposes&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;AST- advanced speech training 2&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Goodness! I'll be graduating in less than a month and I still don't know what the acronyms stands for! *smacks forhead*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Aniways, I've finally made up my mind.  If I don't get any reply from MOE, I'll opt for the 2 yrs full-time degree course offered by np. But i know it's a pretty tough competition as the intake is less than 50 and application is open to all graduates (alumni) who have completed their dip in ech. At the rate I'm going, I bet my gpa for this semester will barely reach a 3.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;hopeless case...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20104193-113854655979670548?l=hersilentwhispers.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hersilentwhispers.blogspot.com/feeds/113854655979670548/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20104193&amp;postID=113854655979670548' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20104193/posts/default/113854655979670548'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20104193/posts/default/113854655979670548'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hersilentwhispers.blogspot.com/2006/01/fhm-freaking-hopeless-i-cant-remember.html' title='FHM-Freaking Hopeless! i cant remember my Modules!'/><author><name>yussy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12099114398161822887</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://i8.photobucket.com/albums/a16/yusnitayusoff/Image051.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20104193.post-113792810537433801</id><published>2006-01-22T00:15:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-01-22T03:17:27.123-08:00</updated><title type='text'>where do i go from here?</title><content type='html'>It's down to 4 more weeks. How fast time flies....&lt;br /&gt;Looking forward for poly life to end and dreading it at the same time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Where do I go after this? Do I wish to stay in the same line or do something different?&lt;br /&gt;Start working or continue with my studies? Work and study at the same time?&lt;br /&gt;This or that?&lt;br /&gt;*sigh*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Frankly speaking, I'm not ready to enter into the working world yet. But I know that sooner or later, whether I'm ready or not, I would still have to face it. My parents have done so much for me. My mom especially. She quit her job and started working again not long after she stopped. "Just in case you wish to continue with your studies..'' That's what she said. =))))&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've just e-mailed the application form for sno position. I hope the outcome is worth the 2 hours I've spent filling it up. Imagine trying to create a decent signature using paint and finding a recent passport- size- photo- lookalike from my entire collection of photos and then sent over to makcik asking whether the pics I've picked up were appropriate. Not forgetting the tiff mom and I had with dad over whom I shall use as referees. Dad was trying to prove his point that I'm always a last minute person, just like mom. Don't ask how come he brought mom into the conversation. I don't see the connection as well. lol.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Gotten the green light from them. Yes, I hope it stays as green. Better get the form right away and start filling it up before they decided to change their mind. I hope everything goes according to planned.&lt;br /&gt;I see pills and jabs coming my way...&lt;br /&gt;Dear doctor, can I request for more jabs instead of pills.. pls?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Niways, the movie review on memoirs of geisha is sooo discouraging.&lt;br /&gt;darn. so what other options do we have?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Been trying to post this entry for god knows how many times. This is probably the sixth time I got disconnected all thanks to the ringing phone. I'm using broadband and yet my internet connection still gets disrupted when the calls come in.&lt;br /&gt;One more time, I'll scream along with the ringing phone!!!&lt;br /&gt;pfft.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20104193-113792810537433801?l=hersilentwhispers.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hersilentwhispers.blogspot.com/feeds/113792810537433801/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20104193&amp;postID=113792810537433801' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20104193/posts/default/113792810537433801'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20104193/posts/default/113792810537433801'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hersilentwhispers.blogspot.com/2006/01/where-do-i-go-from-here.html' title='where do i go from here?'/><author><name>yussy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12099114398161822887</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://i8.photobucket.com/albums/a16/yusnitayusoff/Image051.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20104193.post-113767759804375684</id><published>2006-01-19T04:35:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-01-19T05:33:18.090-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>iep assessment by advisor's over! oooh.. finally! yippie yay!&lt;br /&gt;ET said we've done well on the whole... way to go babes!&lt;br /&gt;All the hard work pays off. Cheers to all the late night/ wee morning  slavers! (you know who you are)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Silence is good. But too much kills.&lt;br /&gt;Hate the feeling of waking up in an empty house.&lt;br /&gt;It's even worse to find everyone else's already asleep when you step into the house.&lt;br /&gt;=(&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Second tailbone injury. It hurts... Like a lot.. when I sit.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So in love with cherries.&lt;br /&gt;I don't care even when they start tasting like grapes when u've had them too much.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20104193-113767759804375684?l=hersilentwhispers.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hersilentwhispers.blogspot.com/feeds/113767759804375684/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20104193&amp;postID=113767759804375684' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20104193/posts/default/113767759804375684'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20104193/posts/default/113767759804375684'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hersilentwhispers.blogspot.com/2006/01/iep-assessment-by-advisors-over-oooh.html' title=''/><author><name>yussy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12099114398161822887</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://i8.photobucket.com/albums/a16/yusnitayusoff/Image051.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20104193.post-113752242058308529</id><published>2006-01-17T09:54:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-01-19T05:42:30.610-08:00</updated><title type='text'>breathless</title><content type='html'>5 more weeks..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm almost reaching the point where I'll just burst any moment. Been constantly reminding myself to take one step back. I don't want to make situations any worser. Not at this moment.&lt;br /&gt;Group projects' driving me crazy. Hell's breaking loose.&lt;br /&gt;Social loafing. Unfair share of work. A whole shitloads of crappy attitude problems from group members. Tell me about it!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nightmare working on pair assignment today. Not that it happened for the first time... But today's especially effing testing my patience. I admit, after 3 years working together with the same person, my tolerance level's getting lower. Miss know-it-all who only talks but does nothing. I've been slaving my ass off for the whole freaking 3 years. No kidding.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;180106.. dateline of submission for eop assignment, which also marks the last pair assignment (working with the same person) in my poly life. (that's if I will be able to go through the semester)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What more can I ask for?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;I'm super duper to the bloody whooper glad can! =)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;180106&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;-wishing for raindrops and thunderstorm-&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;stupid napha test.. bleagh puke puke. =S&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20104193-113752242058308529?l=hersilentwhispers.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hersilentwhispers.blogspot.com/feeds/113752242058308529/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20104193&amp;postID=113752242058308529' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20104193/posts/default/113752242058308529'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20104193/posts/default/113752242058308529'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hersilentwhispers.blogspot.com/2006/01/breathless.html' title='breathless'/><author><name>yussy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12099114398161822887</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://i8.photobucket.com/albums/a16/yusnitayusoff/Image051.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20104193.post-113717473170495675</id><published>2006-01-13T09:01:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-01-13T09:54:33.313-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I made some and I lose them all way too quickly.&lt;br /&gt;Sick cycle.&lt;br /&gt;Makcik told me, 'The true ones stick with you through thick and thin.' I guess she has a point there.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The day I stopped believing as I told myself, THEY never existed in the first place.....&lt;br /&gt;Bang my head against the wall. It won't hurt. Cause I feel numb.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm so glad that projects are keeping me busy. I love rushing through projects. I love having to stay in school till late at night. I just love the feeling of tiredness at the end of each day.&lt;br /&gt;Sorry, I'm a freak.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I miss the sunshine.&lt;br /&gt;But please let it rain on 180106.... big thunderstorm and lightning..&lt;br /&gt;If it does, then I shall be the happiest person on earth. =)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20104193-113717473170495675?l=hersilentwhispers.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hersilentwhispers.blogspot.com/feeds/113717473170495675/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20104193&amp;postID=113717473170495675' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20104193/posts/default/113717473170495675'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20104193/posts/default/113717473170495675'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hersilentwhispers.blogspot.com/2006/01/i-made-some-and-i-lose-them-all-way.html' title=''/><author><name>yussy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12099114398161822887</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://i8.photobucket.com/albums/a16/yusnitayusoff/Image051.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20104193.post-113682353733843014</id><published>2006-01-09T06:31:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-01-09T08:42:01.843-08:00</updated><title type='text'>my monday wasn't blue afterall</title><content type='html'>It's sad having to spend malam raya in sch trying to get our ppt slides done for wednesday's presentations. (yes presenta-&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;tions&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;, with an s)&lt;br /&gt;Usually , mom will turn on the radio full blast to listen to the takbir.&lt;br /&gt;Nehoos, I was glad I could turn to mr mp3. =)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Practice on pair radio recording assessment today during ast was hella fun.&lt;br /&gt;Brenda played everyone else's recordings except elainne's and mine. (more to this later on)&lt;br /&gt;All thanks to counter number 22, which wasn't working well.&lt;br /&gt;Was happily chatting with elainne after the recording when she realised the number at the counter was still running. And I confidently thought I had pressed the stop button. How stupid!&lt;br /&gt;Tried to press the stop button over and over again but to no avail.&lt;br /&gt;In the end, we gave up and called for brenda. She got us to transfer our tape to counter 21.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;elainne: ok, let's try playing back what we've recorded.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;a sec later.... the number jumped to zero again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;me: eh, wad happened ah? why like that?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;elainne: eh, how come? why come back to zero?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;me: oh shit! they're all gone!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;elainne: how ah? want to record again or what?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;me: nvm la. too late already. i don't think brenda's checking anyway.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And then, (as if she was reading my mind) brenda decided that she's going to get the class to listen to everyone's recordings.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*smacks forehead*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;brenda: Alright, i want each pair to tell me your counter number so i can play your recordings.&lt;br /&gt;yus and elainne?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;elainne: we recorded but we didnt know our counter's spoilt.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;brenda: i don't get you. what is it about?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;me: err... our counter's spoilt so we've lost all that's been recorded? heh.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;class: WA LAO! NOT FAIR!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;hahahahaha! too bad la!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;What's been mentioned during lecture this morning.&lt;br /&gt;We agree to disagree?&lt;br /&gt;It hit me, right smack in the face.&lt;br /&gt;I can't stand up for own my rights. Can never. Especially when it involves a certain someone.&lt;br /&gt;Not that i didn't make any effort to try.&lt;br /&gt;Time's getting shorter and I don't even wanna think of losing a friend right now.&lt;br /&gt;Niways, 6 more weeks and then it won't matter anymore.&lt;br /&gt;sorrymeaniesijustcantdoitanymore.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;counting down&lt;br /&gt;less than 24 hours to doom's day...&lt;br /&gt;zuzarte will be proud of me if I start drawing my stephen covey's tombstone right now. lol.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20104193-113682353733843014?l=hersilentwhispers.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hersilentwhispers.blogspot.com/feeds/113682353733843014/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20104193&amp;postID=113682353733843014' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20104193/posts/default/113682353733843014'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20104193/posts/default/113682353733843014'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hersilentwhispers.blogspot.com/2006/01/my-monday-wasnt-blue-afterall.html' title='my monday wasn&apos;t blue afterall'/><author><name>yussy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12099114398161822887</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://i8.photobucket.com/albums/a16/yusnitayusoff/Image051.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20104193.post-113665607239968407</id><published>2006-01-07T09:35:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-01-07T17:48:12.270-08:00</updated><title type='text'>3 in a bed</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4682/1337/1600/Photo_0075.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 340px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 235px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" height="165" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4682/1337/320/Photo_0075.jpg" width="297" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is the result you get when everyone agreed to meet up for project in the freaking early morning (10am on a wkend is super early ok!).&lt;br /&gt;We lazed on the bed, and the other two sleepyheads fell asleep right after that. nyehahaha!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;Ah.. i'm seeing them tmr... like again. boo hoo hoo.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;Dearest 'ah moi',&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;I'm sick of seeing you too... &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;Wa lao! Gonna see you for two whole weeks sia... hehehe.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;oink... oink... oink... oink...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20104193-113665607239968407?l=hersilentwhispers.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hersilentwhispers.blogspot.com/feeds/113665607239968407/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20104193&amp;postID=113665607239968407' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20104193/posts/default/113665607239968407'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20104193/posts/default/113665607239968407'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hersilentwhispers.blogspot.com/2006/01/3-in-bed.html' title='3 in a bed'/><author><name>yussy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12099114398161822887</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://i8.photobucket.com/albums/a16/yusnitayusoff/Image051.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20104193.post-113648551806556515</id><published>2006-01-05T07:47:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-01-05T10:29:38.143-08:00</updated><title type='text'>thursday's a crazy day</title><content type='html'>imagine spending 3/4 of your day outside home.&lt;br /&gt;school, project meetings and such.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;spent all day at aud's place working on iep.&lt;br /&gt;it was crazy trying to complete everything in just one day. but somehow, we made it.&lt;br /&gt;hah! not like we have any other choice rite? its tmr!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i must be really crazy saying this...&lt;br /&gt;on the whole, working on iep was kinda fun actually.&lt;br /&gt;we laughed, we joked and i even remember snorting into laughter! err... by accident of course. lol.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;we turned the living room into a total disaster.&lt;br /&gt;we heard footsteps and that was when aud's dad decided to come home from work.&lt;br /&gt;everyone greeted him with that oh-oh, so sorry for the mess look. heh.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;the big day's tmr. 1000 hours.&lt;br /&gt;make it or break it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;molly loves balls of all kind!&lt;br /&gt;*snorts into laughter*&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20104193-113648551806556515?l=hersilentwhispers.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hersilentwhispers.blogspot.com/feeds/113648551806556515/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20104193&amp;postID=113648551806556515' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20104193/posts/default/113648551806556515'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20104193/posts/default/113648551806556515'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hersilentwhispers.blogspot.com/2006/01/thursdays-crazy-day.html' title='thursday&apos;s a crazy day'/><author><name>yussy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12099114398161822887</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://i8.photobucket.com/albums/a16/yusnitayusoff/Image051.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20104193.post-113637915461045929</id><published>2006-01-04T04:32:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-01-04T05:02:26.020-08:00</updated><title type='text'>burnout</title><content type='html'>assignments driving everyone crazy.&lt;br /&gt;everything in less than 7 weeks time. madness.&lt;br /&gt;how i wish time passes by slowly.&lt;br /&gt;i want a clock without hands.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;trip to al-ameen got me running to the toilet thrice. soweaksoweak.&lt;br /&gt;i'm shagged but i can't fall asleep.&lt;br /&gt;gimme sleeping pills.&lt;br /&gt;or someone.... anyone, just shoot me in the head.&lt;br /&gt;*bang*&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20104193-113637915461045929?l=hersilentwhispers.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hersilentwhispers.blogspot.com/feeds/113637915461045929/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20104193&amp;postID=113637915461045929' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20104193/posts/default/113637915461045929'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20104193/posts/default/113637915461045929'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hersilentwhispers.blogspot.com/2006/01/burnout.html' title='burnout'/><author><name>yussy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12099114398161822887</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://i8.photobucket.com/albums/a16/yusnitayusoff/Image051.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20104193.post-113603047345061485</id><published>2005-12-31T03:34:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-12-31T05:34:31.420-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Goodbye 2005!</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4682/1337/1600/DSCF2852.0.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="WIDTH: 124px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 134px" height="200" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4682/1337/200/DSCF2852.jpg" width="123" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4682/1337/1600/DSC02938.2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="WIDTH: 121px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 136px" height="188" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4682/1337/200/DSC02938.0.jpg" width="121" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4682/1337/1600/DSC04826.0.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="WIDTH: 115px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 138px" height="127" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4682/1337/200/DSC04826.0.jpg" width="150" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4682/1337/1600/Copy%20of%20DSC03620.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="WIDTH: 125px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 137px" height="150" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4682/1337/200/Copy%20of%20DSC03620.jpg" width="117" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4682/1337/1600/DSC03843.0.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="WIDTH: 128px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 139px" height="200" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4682/1337/200/DSC03843.jpg" width="143" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4682/1337/1600/Image017.0.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="WIDTH: 120px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 136px" height="120" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4682/1337/200/Image017.0.jpg" width="120" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4682/1337/1600/DSC04345.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="WIDTH: 114px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 137px" height="128" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4682/1337/200/DSC04345.jpg" width="150" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4682/1337/1600/emo%20me.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="WIDTH: 126px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 141px" height="141" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4682/1337/200/emo%20me.jpg" width="169" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4682/1337/1600/Image034.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="WIDTH: 124px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 140px" height="200" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4682/1337/200/Image034.jpg" width="124" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4682/1337/1600/DSC04831.0.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="WIDTH: 123px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 141px" height="128" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4682/1337/200/DSC04831.0.jpg" width="150" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4682/1337/1600/DSC03837.1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="WIDTH: 122px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 134px" height="150" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4682/1337/200/DSC03837.1.jpg" width="122" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4682/1337/1600/Copy%20of%2011.3.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="WIDTH: 124px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 140px" height="150" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4682/1337/200/Copy%20of%2011.0.jpg" width="124" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4682/1337/1600/Image025.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="WIDTH: 107px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 139px" height="120" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4682/1337/200/Image025.jpg" width="118" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4682/1337/1600/DSC03842.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="WIDTH: 121px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 138px" height="200" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4682/1337/200/DSC03842.jpg" width="119" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4682/1337/1600/DSC04398.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="WIDTH: 121px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 139px" height="200" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4682/1337/200/DSC04398.jpg" width="115" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4682/1337/1600/Image010.0.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="WIDTH: 118px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 140px" height="177" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4682/1337/200/Image010.jpg" width="118" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4682/1337/1600/Image053.0.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="WIDTH: 120px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 138px" height="150" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4682/1337/200/Image053.0.jpg" width="120" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4682/1337/1600/d6ee.1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="WIDTH: 113px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 138px" height="200" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4682/1337/200/d6ee.0.jpg" width="113" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4682/1337/1600/DSC01953.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="WIDTH: 112px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 142px" height="142" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4682/1337/200/DSC01953.jpg" width="150" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4682/1337/1600/389698024798s.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="CURSOR: hand" height="141" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4682/1337/200/389698024798s.jpg" width="100" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4682/1337/1600/389698024798s.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;color:#cc33cc;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;color:#000000;"&gt;Pardon me for posting up the pics. I'm not being narcissitic here.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Just to remind myself of the many sweet memories, lost, difficulties and obstacles I had to brave through in year 2005. School, friendships, relationships, families and the list goes on... &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Those sweet memories...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;As I look back on them, I couldn't stop smiling. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Thank you meanies. Thank you dearies. Thanks everyone. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;=)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Those painful memories...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;I'm thankful for them. They have made me what I've become today. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;And I dare say that I'm a much stronger person now.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Thanks for everything....&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;And I feel that the entry won't be complete without thanking the special people in my life. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;So here goes:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Dearest Sammy and Yana,&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;For always being there for me, listening to my problems... even if it means calling you guys up at 5am, crying over the phone. Thanks for spending time with me when i really needed to get my mind off things. It's been 6 years and our friendship is still going strong... =)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Dearest Annisha,&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;For the late night chats we share over on msn. Sharing our personal problems. Encouraging one another and offering advises. *All the best to you* (you know i know). keep me updated ya!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#ff0000;"&gt;Dearest Irliana,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;For always trying to make time for me when I had to go through one of the roughest moments in life. Thanks for going through all the trouble cancelling your plans just to keep me company. I'm missing our retail theraphy session.. badly. haha..&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Dearest Ayumie,&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;For getting me to open up and reminding me time and again not to keep things to myself. Thanks for your advises. It's true what makcik says, 'Ayu's a good counsellor'. And I have to second that.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Dearest Ulfy,&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;For your concern, asking how well i'm coping, be it my personal problems or assignments. I definitely enjoy those informative little talks we share on msn.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;And to the rest of my &lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;meanies&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;, whose name I didn't mention...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;Love you all, many many.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;Above all, someone told me this: You can't expect your friends to always be there for you. You've got to learn to lead your own life, learn to do things by yourself.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;Yes, it's all in the mind. I can and I will. I've got to find the strength. It's all within myself. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;color:#cc33cc;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;color:#cc33cc;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Goodbye 2005&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4682/1337/1600/Copy%20of%20DSC03620.0.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4682/1337/1600/DSC03837.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20104193-113603047345061485?l=hersilentwhispers.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hersilentwhispers.blogspot.com/feeds/113603047345061485/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20104193&amp;postID=113603047345061485' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20104193/posts/default/113603047345061485'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20104193/posts/default/113603047345061485'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hersilentwhispers.blogspot.com/2005/12/goodbye-2005.html' title='Goodbye 2005!'/><author><name>yussy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12099114398161822887</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://i8.photobucket.com/albums/a16/yusnitayusoff/Image051.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20104193.post-113597010150291615</id><published>2005-12-30T10:15:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-12-30T11:15:01.523-08:00</updated><title type='text'>untitled</title><content type='html'>tomorrow will only be the third time. i'm dreading it. i can already feel the pain.&lt;br /&gt;ouch ouch ouch!&lt;br /&gt;9 more to go.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;been doing lots of town-ing with friends and family this week. seriously, its the only thing that keeps me sane. i have my reasons for not wanting to stay home. nah, i don't want to talk about it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;weird things always happen. things keep popping up, out of nowhere.&lt;br /&gt;another game's starting soon. fine, let's start playing hide-and-seek again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*counts 1-10 aloud*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;are you ready? here i come!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20104193-113597010150291615?l=hersilentwhispers.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hersilentwhispers.blogspot.com/feeds/113597010150291615/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20104193&amp;postID=113597010150291615' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20104193/posts/default/113597010150291615'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20104193/posts/default/113597010150291615'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hersilentwhispers.blogspot.com/2005/12/untitled.html' title='untitled'/><author><name>yussy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12099114398161822887</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://i8.photobucket.com/albums/a16/yusnitayusoff/Image051.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20104193.post-113588099473649680</id><published>2005-12-29T09:22:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-12-29T10:29:54.750-08:00</updated><title type='text'>rhythmwerks</title><content type='html'>Ah.. I know the event took place eons ago.. basi already. Just wanna post the pics up. Congrats to Audrey! Everything went well except that I so badly wanted the thumbdrive and nickelodeon hamper.  *pouts*&lt;br /&gt;A date with Al-Ameen this Tuesday =)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4682/1337/1600/DSC04802.1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4682/1337/320/DSC04802.1.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;                                                                  so pretty can? *whistles*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4682/1337/1600/DSC04801.0.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4682/1337/320/DSC04801.0.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;                                    those flowers.... how can i forget the 'fun' trip to the flower shop?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4682/1337/320/DSC04799.1.jpg" border="0" /&gt;                             the super loud makcik. and i mean, really loud. (the one on the left of course.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4682/1337/1600/DSC04799.0.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4682/1337/320/DSC04805.0.jpg" border="0" /&gt;                                               Audrey Gerek Seh.. 200 buckaroos.. wheeeeee!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4682/1337/320/DSC04810.jpg" border="0" /&gt;                                               The supporters. Baik-lah audrey! (*ayu's missing*)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20104193-113588099473649680?l=hersilentwhispers.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hersilentwhispers.blogspot.com/feeds/113588099473649680/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20104193&amp;postID=113588099473649680' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20104193/posts/default/113588099473649680'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20104193/posts/default/113588099473649680'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hersilentwhispers.blogspot.com/2005/12/rhythmwerks.html' title='rhythmwerks'/><author><name>yussy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12099114398161822887</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://i8.photobucket.com/albums/a16/yusnitayusoff/Image051.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20104193.post-113549915841547053</id><published>2005-12-25T00:18:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-12-25T00:27:11.046-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Just something untrue...</title><content type='html'>Stumbled upon this while surfing. Not that I actually believe it or anything.&lt;br /&gt;Read mine and I couldn't stop laughing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;Leo (Lion)&lt;br /&gt;Born July 23 - August 22&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#6600cc;"&gt;From the early age, Leos are inclined towards drunkennes and extortion. When it comes to anything else, they show a remarkable degree of laziness. As a child, a Leo will typically demand a lot of money from parents, then from friends and even casual aquaintances.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#6600cc;"&gt;His overly developed pride and narcissism can ruin the life of anyone who he has come into even passing contact with, while his gluttony is capable of bankrupting even the deepest set of pockets. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#6600cc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#6600cc;"&gt;Amazingly, even though Leos eat a lot and without stop, they never gain any weight.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#6600cc;"&gt;They like to have the world revolve around them, which is why they strive to be the best at anything they do. If they are not successful at this, they will languish and lose weight.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#6600cc;"&gt;A Leo's dominant character traits are usually an unshakable delusion of grandure and an elevated feeling of self-importance. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Argghh.. Not true can??!!??&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All Leos out there!&lt;br /&gt;Hands up if you don't agree with me on this!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20104193-113549915841547053?l=hersilentwhispers.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hersilentwhispers.blogspot.com/feeds/113549915841547053/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20104193&amp;postID=113549915841547053' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20104193/posts/default/113549915841547053'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20104193/posts/default/113549915841547053'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hersilentwhispers.blogspot.com/2005/12/just-something-untrue.html' title='Just something untrue...'/><author><name>yussy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12099114398161822887</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://i8.photobucket.com/albums/a16/yusnitayusoff/Image051.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20104193.post-113527687437914299</id><published>2005-12-22T09:52:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-12-25T00:11:20.630-08:00</updated><title type='text'>hello...goodbye!</title><content type='html'>Say hellllloooo to my new bloggy and goodbyyyeee to the old one!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Many've been asking, "What happened to your blog? How come blog not found?"&lt;br /&gt;Yup, the old one's been deleted. Why? Hehe.. It's for me to know and for you to find out. *winks*&lt;br /&gt;So this time, I've decided to make it simple. Looked through templates from blogskins but couldn't decide on a particular theme. Fickle minded.. I guess that's nothing new about me. Heh.&lt;br /&gt;It looks simple but going through the process of linking everyone in my blog network was tedious. Hah! Serves me right for having itchy fingers! I wanted a new addy but i don't want to make life difficult for my dearies cause they've got to link me up again. BAH!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So finally, Here you go....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;New and fresh.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Feel free to tag ya.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;BUT...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've got to make it clearer this time, if you feel offended by the entries or tags, please, by all means, LEAVE. Tagging as anonymous only show one thing.. that you're a coward.&lt;br /&gt;Do not create a stir in here.&lt;br /&gt;Unless you're prepared to get verbally abused by my dearies and myself. =)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Got that?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20104193-113527687437914299?l=hersilentwhispers.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hersilentwhispers.blogspot.com/feeds/113527687437914299/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20104193&amp;postID=113527687437914299' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20104193/posts/default/113527687437914299'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20104193/posts/default/113527687437914299'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hersilentwhispers.blogspot.com/2005/12/hellogoodbye.html' title='hello...goodbye!'/><author><name>yussy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12099114398161822887</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://i8.photobucket.com/albums/a16/yusnitayusoff/Image051.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
