tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-326111872024-03-12T20:26:53.158-07:00TylogyNo man ever steps in the same river twice, for it's not the same river and he's not the same man...Tyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03153158984270695142noreply@blogger.comBlogger133125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32611187.post-45797040844740345602009-02-11T04:09:00.000-08:002009-02-11T04:24:27.907-08:00One Word, Just..USING ONLY ONE WORD! It's not as easy as you might think! Copy and change the answers to suit you and pass it on by tagging your friends. It's really hard to only use one word answers. Be sure to tag the person you received it from!<br /><br />1. Where is your cell phone? - charging<br />2. Your significant other? - who?<br />3. Your hair? - messy<br />4. Your mother? - small<br />5. Your father? - petit<br />6. Your favorite place? - beach<br />7. Your dream last night? - sensual<br />8. Your favorite drink? - milk<br />9. Your dream/goal? - difficult<br />10. What room you are in? - living<br />11. Your hobby? - reading<br />12. Your fear? - lizard<br />13. Where do you want to be in 6 years? - away<br />14. Where were you last night? - home<br />15. Something that you aren't? - thin<br />16. Muffins? - urgh..!<br />17. Wish list item? - love<br />18. Where you grew up? - KL<br />19. Last thing you did? - eat<br />20. What are you wearing? - sweat<br />21. Your TV? - broken<br />22. Your pet(s)? - 'cat'<br />23. Friends? - crazy<br />24. Your life? - unpredictable<br />25. Your mood? - twisted<br />26. Missing someone? - always<br />27. Car? - cute<br />28. Something you're not wearing? - undergarments<br />29. Your favorite store? - bookstore<br />30. Your favorite color? - white<br />33. When is the last time you laughed? - now<br />34. Last time you cried? - yesterday<br />35. Who will resend this? - noone<br />36. One place that I go to over and over? - kitchen<br />37. One person who emails me regularly? - facebookTyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03153158984270695142noreply@blogger.com23tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32611187.post-69204559584796001412009-02-06T19:05:00.000-08:002009-02-06T20:16:15.964-08:00Thank God It's Shithead!<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_UFfSsOfN90g/SY0K9NuxTjI/AAAAAAAADsE/YHqBp2cQC6Q/s1600-h/shithead.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 269px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_UFfSsOfN90g/SY0K9NuxTjI/AAAAAAAADsE/YHqBp2cQC6Q/s320/shithead.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5299904383259070002" /></a><br />...And small Ty mocked, 'Shithead ke shitet?'...<div><br /></div><div>Pay no heed to the above statement. I just find that line amusing and it kept repeating itself in my head.</div><div><br /></div><div>There is one very good reason why I don't like to live in with mom.</div><div><br /></div><div>I woke up at 8 a.m. this morning and since then, I have eaten my breakfast twice! And it's only 11 a.m. right now. Grunt!</div><div><br /></div><div>Other than that, living in with mom should be fine. Well yeah, except for the occasional nagging and privacy invading part, everything else is fine. Heheh..</div><div><br /></div><div>And oh, let me quote my cousin Jamie - '..She will wash anything that is in front of her... Including the glass of water that I have just left for 30 seconds. When I turned back to get the glass, *poof*...magic! It's gone!' - This was meant for her sister Amy, but it is applicable to my mom too!</div><div><br /></div><div>Three more weeks to graduation and I am still looking for the right job. And looking for the right job is like looking for the right man. It is so difficult to get everything you want in one package. </div><div><br /></div><div>I came across a quote today that says...'Men should be like Kleenex, soft, strong and disposable.' - Mrs White, (Clue 1985). But the truth is that none of them is like Kleenex. If they are soft and strong, they aren't disposable. And if they are disposable, it means that they aren't any near to being soft and strong.</div><div><br /></div><div>I like this other quote I spotted: 'Men are like parking spots, the good ones are taken and the free ones are handicapped'. Tsk, tsk..! I was wondering if this quote is applicable to both gender... Will this means that I am handicapped too?</div><div><br /></div><div>Oh, what the hell...I'd better get into the shower and stop lazing around.</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div>Tyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03153158984270695142noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32611187.post-10026114150030439332009-02-05T20:35:00.000-08:002009-02-05T20:52:15.777-08:00Cough DropsCouldn't sleep well last night because of the intense coughing that I had all throughout the night. Plus at around midnight, little Tacetta pulled a tantrum that reverberate around the house, causing both small Ty and I to sat upright and sigh.<div><br /></div><div>This morning I woke up with aching joints and a cramp in my stomach - out of the extreme clenching and unclenching of my abs muscle each time I forced out a cough. If this prolongs until the next 3 to 4 days, I bet I'm gonna developed some six-pack abs. Hehehe.. Ridiculous, dreamy me.</div><div><br /></div><div>Right now I am in one of the classrooms in UKM, waiting for Madame Sabrina to finish her assignment. I am feeling famish but she is looking too serious, too soaked up in her work that I do not dare to interrupt. Dude, aren't you hungry? Enough with that HRD journal and let's go fill up our belly. Ok? Now!</div>Tyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03153158984270695142noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32611187.post-48304164246912244652009-02-05T20:33:00.000-08:002009-02-05T20:34:19.105-08:0025 Random ThingsRules: Once you've been tagged, you are supposed to write a note with 25 random things, facts, habits, or goals about you. At the end, choose 25 people to be tagged. You have to tag the person who tagged you. If I tagged you, it's because I want to know more about you.<br /><br />My 25 Random Things:<br /><br />1. I am the fattest person in my family.<br /><br />2. I hate roller coasters and any other thrill rides that makes me feel like my guts are being ripped off of me.<br /><br />3. I am actually a shy person. Heheh.. Really.<br /><br />4. I don't like carbonated drinks.<br /><br />5. My greatest fear is lizard.<br /><br />6. I can never wake up too late.<br /><br />7. I am very indecisive.<br /><br />8. I eat anything, everything. I love food. So much. This explains random thing #1.<br /><br />9. I have bad vision, but I refuse to wear glasses/contact lenses permanently.<br /><br />10. I think it is more important to have love than to have money.<br /><br />11. But sometimes I think that it is also important to have money and not just love.<br /><br />12. I always have a thing for tall men.<br /><br />13. I love cooking.<br /><br />14. I hardly move while I'm sleeping.<br /><br />15. I am camera-shy.<br /><br />16. I have low-tolerance to alcohol.<br /><br />17. I hate to go to work at odd hours.<br /><br />18. I dream of being tri-lingual but have yet to start learning another language.<br /><br />19. I can't stop talking about how my niece would come to me and ask how she should pronounce the word 'penguin'. She would say...: 'Nana, Nana, tenduin ke tambin?'<br /><br />20. I can sit for hours just watching the rain fall or how the trees sway on a windy day.<br /><br />21. I am a good girl.<br /><br />22. As much as I like talking, I somehow don't like talking on the phone.<br /><br />23. Right now I wish I have more time to read.<br /><br />24. I am not the kind of person who could fall in love at first sight.<br /><br />25. I do love this 'someone'.Tyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03153158984270695142noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32611187.post-56691329877355334902009-01-20T01:12:00.000-08:002009-01-20T01:15:29.088-08:00Beauty Notion<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_UFfSsOfN90g/SXWVlEiSWLI/AAAAAAAADrk/w0GIdVq7uDA/s1600-h/025C0506LL~Woman-Driving-Car-Adjusting-Mirror-Applying-Make-up-and-Talking-on-Cell-Phone-with-Multiple-Arms-Posters.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5293301401149135026" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_UFfSsOfN90g/SXWVlEiSWLI/AAAAAAAADrk/w0GIdVq7uDA/s320/025C0506LL~Woman-Driving-Car-Adjusting-Mirror-Applying-Make-up-and-Talking-on-Cell-Phone-with-Multiple-Arms-Posters.jpg" border="0" /></a><br />Because there are two dead baby lizards in the kitchen, I had to put off my intention to cook for today.<br /><br />And because I am not cooking, I am going to start scrawling bull again.<br /><br />I have always believed that there are certain things a woman needs to do in order to become a basic lady.<br /><br />I only have four rules for me to look and feel like a real woman. And the rules are simple.<br /><br />#1 Zap It Off<br /><br />If we are obviously hairy, shave the excess hair off. Or even better, wax it. And excess hair means hair underneath the armpits, legs, bikini areas and the likes of it, and the upper lips area.<br /><br />And even if we think, 'why should I shave all these parts when I won't be exposing them to the public's eyes?', I'm still suggesting for those hair to be shaven. The point is, even if we woman think that the hair isn't obvious, we won't know when we will meet someone who would actually notice our upper lips hair, for example. I for one, is somewhat a hairless person. But I have been told by one fussy man that I have whiskers and that I needed to shave. Even when there were only like one or two invisble strands on my upper lips. And though I hate that guy for being fussy, deep down I know that what he said was applicable to all women.<br /><br />#2 Clear Up Those Messy Brows<br /><br />Make sure brows are well-kept. If we can shape them nicely, it will be great, but if we are no expert in shaping, then keeping them free from straying strands is good enough. And when shaping, be very careful and make sure not to overdo them either. I learned that brows shouldn't be too thin nor too thick and it shouldn't be too artificially drawn either. It won't be easy and I have to say that I myself have difficulties in this. But try. Because there is no point having super-fab make-up, chic hairdo, and that expensive outfit on when we have two caterpillars mounted above our eyes.<br /><br />#3 Dry Them Hair Proper<br /><br />Blow dry the hair after washing. Use tools like hairbrush to keep them in place. Do not air dry. Unless of course, we are blessed with super fine and super perfect hair from birth. Do not go out with wet hair please, unless it is an emergency. And no it is not sexy. It is icky.<br /><br />#4 Scent It<br /><br />And do wear perfume. Or at least deodorant. Do not be too confident without them. For what is undetectably immune under our nose would probably be too prominent under the olfactory glands of others. If we accidentally forgot to put some on, well, try my sister's never-fail strategy - use the car perfume! LOL!<br /><br />At any instance, we should always try to follow all four rules strictly. But then again, we are merely humans. There are instances when we would uncaringly unleash the beast and let the hair grow wild, like gorillas, on days when we are feeling heart-sick or plainly not in the mood. Well, that's okay, just make sure noone else sees us or at least try hard to minimize contact with other human beings.<br /><br />Now, after all that, I really need to eat.Tyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03153158984270695142noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32611187.post-41527410172082952672009-01-20T01:07:00.000-08:002009-01-20T01:12:07.241-08:00OverindulgenceIt is never virtuous to have too much of anything.<br /><br />Too much coffee. Too much love. Too much rest. Too much food. Too much work. Too much care. Too much fat. Too much stupidity. Too much indolence. Too much and too much.<br /><br />I woke up this morning with the song 'Too Much Love Will Kill You' in my head. Ironic. Hehehe..<br /><br />I have been eating outside far too often these days. Pretty soon I am going to be a few stones heavier. I think it is about time for me to start cooking at home. But that's fine. It means burning less hole in my already holey pocket.<br /><br />It is also unhealthy if you have nothing of everything.Time-less, boyfriend-less, love-less (well, in my case it is artificial love which is equivalent to no love at all), care-less, job-less, hair-less, hope-less.<br /><br />I just failed my recent PAC assessment to join the government. Guess I am not government material. Guess I am a square peg which won't fit in the round hole of government. Nevertheless, I wonder what it takes to be one.<br /><br />Alright. Okay. Tam the cat is hurtling around with a baby lizard she just spotted in the kitchen. Those two are making me nervous. And I have just spotted one huge acne on my cheek. Drat. What's happening to my complexion these days?Tyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03153158984270695142noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32611187.post-26034249241486123802009-01-13T17:07:00.000-08:002009-01-13T17:22:26.669-08:00The Marionette Dance<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_UFfSsOfN90g/SW0-KF2FwXI/AAAAAAAADrI/ZnX3kOEbZ0Y/s1600-h/marionette.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 214px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_UFfSsOfN90g/SW0-KF2FwXI/AAAAAAAADrI/ZnX3kOEbZ0Y/s320/marionette.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5290953480318861682" /></a><br />I am a marionette.<div>Pull my strings and I will walk.</div><div>Tilt me here and there and I shall move.</div><div>Jolt me and I will dance.</div><div><br /></div><div>I am a marionette.</div><div>I put smiles on people's face.</div><div>I obey my master with my tameness and grace.</div><div><br /></div><div>I am a marionette.</div><div>What I feel is not important.</div><div>How I feel is irrelevant.</div><div><br /></div>Tyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03153158984270695142noreply@blogger.com29tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32611187.post-1988281303934526152009-01-13T07:07:00.000-08:002009-01-13T09:18:24.716-08:00A Not So New 'New Year'<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_UFfSsOfN90g/SWzMwmhnRJI/AAAAAAAADrA/58yjxWbx7Sw/s1600-h/ist2_6149793-happy-new-year-2009.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 213px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_UFfSsOfN90g/SWzMwmhnRJI/AAAAAAAADrA/58yjxWbx7Sw/s320/ist2_6149793-happy-new-year-2009.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5290828797600810130" /></a><br />My first entry since new year. Already we are 14 days into 2009.<div><br /></div><div>I am having itches on my neck and chest. Possibly out of excessive exposure to the sun over the last weekend. Sarah, Adah and I were trying to stage a beachside holiday in Prima Court. We slapped on some tanning oil onto our bods and threw ourselves underneath the sun by the pool deck.</div><div><br /></div><div>I didn't figure out any new year resolution this year. In fact I couldn't even remember the last time I had one. This year was no difference. But I did worked out few things I don't want to be stuck with for the rest of my life and even fewer things I would like to do before I expire. Here they are...</div><div><br /></div><div>I don't want to be stuck for my entire life with..</div><div><br /></div><div>1. crappy relationship that costs me my freedom of thoughts and my identity.</div><div>2. being treated like a slave just because I decided to indulge in love.</div><div>3. the ideology that getting married is the main objective of life.</div><div>4. someone who does not love me for who I am.</div><div>5. pretending to be someone I am not.</div><div><br /></div><div>I would make sure I will..</div><div><br /></div><div>1. be a better person for myself.</div><div>2. put myself before anyone else and love myself more (this was something I didn't do quite well before).</div><div><br /></div><div>Nevertheless, getting some tan is always worthy. Even if it means wearing prickly red chest and neck for a week.</div><div><br /></div>Tyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03153158984270695142noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32611187.post-57501342003687212672008-12-09T05:51:00.000-08:002008-12-09T07:25:53.384-08:00Car BraWell, in case you were wondering what a car bra is, here's what it means...<br /><br /><b>car bra</b> or <b>auto bra</b> (noun) - a carbon-based cover that fits over the front bumper of a car, absorbing the microwaves used in police radar equipment to minimize the risk of detection for the speeding motorist.<br /><br />But my story of car bra totally brings a different meaning...<br /><br />Today saw me sending small-Ty's car to the service center. I was totally prepared for the trip. I braced myself with a book I just bought, assignment for tomorrow's presentation and a laptop. I was determined to wait at the center for the car to be ready and at the same time be as productive as possible.<br /><br />The car was registered in for servicing at 2 p.m. and was scheduled to be completed at 4. I had a couple of hours to kill so I alternated my activities with reading the book and doing my assignment every half an hourly. At quarter to 4, the service personnel came to me in person with the car key and the receipt, an eager look on his face, telling me that the car is ready. It was a pretty strange episode if you ask me, because they would normally announce the car number over the PA system and I would have to collect the key from the counter. This was totally out-of-norm, but I was super pleased with the service, and I am no bitch to complain about good service. So, I just took the key, said the sweetest thank you and collected small-Ty's car.<br /><br />Less than 20 minutes later, I pulled up in front of the house and began to collect my personal effects from the front passenger's seat. Just to make sure I did not miss anything, I decided to check the back seat as well. But the instance I turned my head back to look at the rear seat, I can't help laughing my head off. And suddenly, it all seems clear to me why the service personnel were being unusually nice. There on the rear seat of the car were a crumpled T-shirt, a pair of rolled-up, super skimpy cycling short and a pair of brassiere! Ooh-la-la! This, was the main reason, and it was green! And that green thing just made me a victim of circumstances. Tsk, tsk!<br /><br />In case you were wondering to whom those things belongs to, they were definitely not mine. And if this is so, and the car I sent for servicing belongs to small-Ty, I shall leave y'all to do the math. The only thing I know is that I am never going back to that service center. Period.<br /><br />Even if it was partly my fault for not checking the backseats before registering the car for the service job.Tyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03153158984270695142noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32611187.post-42642311041681826792008-12-04T06:50:00.000-08:002008-12-04T07:37:58.444-08:00Fragili-Ty<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_UFfSsOfN90g/STf3-CyxBeI/AAAAAAAADqw/4VBIiyNDM78/s1600-h/fragile.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_UFfSsOfN90g/STf3-CyxBeI/AAAAAAAADqw/4VBIiyNDM78/s320/fragile.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5275958133761574370" border="0" /></a><br />I am typing away in the dark, on the bed, next to the already sleeping small-Ty. I am trying my best to not make any noise by hitting the keyboard really slowly and lightly.<br /><br />I need a hug. Like really, desperately need one good bear-like hug.<br /><br />Hmm... Let me think about that again. Well, no. Allow me to rephrase that. I don't need a hug. Instead, I think I need hundreds of hugs.<br /><br />I have to say that I haven't been getting enough TLC lately. And this makes me cranky. I am super-sensitive, ready to burst into tears each time I feel like I'm being neglected. Oh, I am such a cry-baby!<br /><br />This weekend will generally be the family weekend. Mainly because Monday is a public holiday. And although little Tacetta, Saty and Zamri will be going back east, I will still have small Ty, Mak and Papa. It'll be a busy weekend, with no time for TLC soliciting.<br /><br />I should have an issue to talk about right now, but my fragility is preventing me from doing so. Thus, I shall stop here.<br /><br />I won't be getting any hugs, therefore I shall sleep.<br /><br />So good night.<br /><br />And byesh!Tyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03153158984270695142noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32611187.post-2756952094733241602008-12-02T02:10:00.000-08:002008-12-02T06:56:59.045-08:00Dragonfly In My Dream<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_UFfSsOfN90g/STVMkZ01K6I/AAAAAAAADqo/BeytYCpZjAg/s1600-h/54ka_dragonfly.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5275206726825880482" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 213px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_UFfSsOfN90g/STVMkZ01K6I/AAAAAAAADqo/BeytYCpZjAg/s320/54ka_dragonfly.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><div>I woke up from my not-too-often afternoon nap feeling groggy. The room felt warm and I realized that it was showering outside. I took the opprtunity to watched the rain fall from the teeny weeny balcony of the apartment. I felt good almost instantenously.</div><br /><div>Honestly, I am not a difficult person. I can be happy with little stuffs which are neither expensive nor hard to find.</div><br /><div></div><div>I don't need too much money to make me happy. Just enough would be just fine.</div><br /><div></div><div>I love watching the rain and especially when the raindrops hit the hard ground. I think they look like white butterflies. Doesn't make any sense to you? I'll show you what I mean the next time you and I happen to be together when it rains.</div><br /><div></div><div>I dig staying alone at home. I enjoy the absolute peace I have with myself.</div><br /><div></div><div>I could stare at plants and trees swaying in the wind for hours and feel very much contented with the scene.</div><br /><div></div><div>I find that watching the cows in the field at anytime of the day is very calming.</div><br /><div></div><div>I can sit only with a cup of tea or coffee alone in a cafe watching people passing by. Or I can enjoy the company of one or a few good friends and talk about nothingness that means everything to us.</div><br /><div></div><div>I'll be happy to receive one sincere good morning from the people I care about. And I'll be crazy happy if they care to show appreciation through little gestures like stroking my hair, walking side by side and telling me how great I look even if I look like shit.</div><br /><div></div><div>I love bookstores. I love the heavenly smell of new books.</div><br /><div></div><div>I love water fountains for the splashing sound they made.</div><br /><div></div><div>I love the family, the 'girls', Scrabble, Lisa, the beach, the sand, the sun, the mountains, Turkish coffee, Lego, the smell of home, the 'khobideh'.</div><br /><div></div><div>And dragonflies. They make me happy.</div><br /><div></div><div>:)</div><br /><div></div><br /><div></div>Tyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03153158984270695142noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32611187.post-33501628776904731512008-11-29T00:51:00.000-08:002008-11-29T20:18:47.011-08:00DoppelgangerSabrina is so going to kill me. Here I am, blogging away when I am only two paragraphs into the proposal. I begged for your forgiveness, lady! But I can't endure this longing for scribbling some BS...<div><br /></div><div>My person now have a doppelganger. Someone who pretends to be her online when it is actually not her. It's silly and funny. And also scary. </div><div><br /></div><div>When it comes to matter of the heart, some people just can't let go. Some people find it difficult to move on. And there are few who wants to move on but can't move on.</div><div><br /></div><div>In order to be able to move on, one must learn to accept. And one must also learn to forget.</div><div><br /></div><div>The question is, how do we forget? If we could learn, why can't we unlearn? There is no guided way to erase memories nor is there an instruction manual to delete sorrowful feelings. The only best way is perhaps, to fill up our time and make ourselves busy, so that our thoughts won't run wild and flock back on the sad, sad history.</div><div><br /></div><div>I've seen friends during trying times. I myself have had my own share of taxing moments too. And because of that, I have somehow developed my own procedure to aid me when love is lost, when passion turns to abomination and when devotion had been betrayed.</div><div><br /></div><div>Here's how I deal with it...</div><div><br /></div><div>1. Cry like hell. Cry like there is no tomorrow. Cry for seven days and seven nights until you could cry no more.</div><div><br /></div><div>Once you are done crying, (believe me, there will be a point when you can't cry anymore, when you will finally get tired of crying...providing you really did step #1 well), this is the time to get up and get on with life. This is when you start doing these...</div><div><br /></div><div>2. Pay more attention to yourself. Groom yourself more, and groom better than you have ever done before. Not for the fact that you are re-entering the dating market or to gain back the attention and affection of the lost party, but for the fact that you love yourself. And after all that has happened, you deserve to be loved and the only person who can love you best is you.</div><div><br /></div><div>So go ahead and wear those nice clothes you have bought but never worn before just because the other party thinks you look fat in it. Put on that make-up and look awesome instead of adopting that au naturel look. Remember that you are not Kate Beckinsale or Jessica Biel. But don't overdo it either. Learn from Salma Hayek. She said, "<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">It actually takes me a lot of make-up in order to make me look like someone who doesn't wear make up</span>."</div><div><br /></div><div>3. Keep busy. If you are not working, get a job. Any job. As long as you have something else to focus on instead of your sorrows. Go out with friends. No friends? Then it is time to find some. Get back in touch with long lost mates and buddies. Too ashamed to meet them? Well, don't be. Misfortunes happen to everyone. And you should talk about it with pride and stop being pitiful about yourself. The pitiful part is over after you decided to stop crying.</div><div><br /></div><div>4. Start going out with the opposite sex. And don't get me wrong. This doesn't mean that you should be romantically or intimately involve immediately. So relax, chill and do go out for movies, for lunch/dinner dates. Do not rush into another relationship. And do not be too stubborn and picky over the smallest thing at this stage too either. Just go out with anyone. He/She may not be the perfect one, but that's the point. You simply have to put up with one or two caterpillars before you can finally see the butterfly, right?</div><div><br /></div><div>5. Get a hobby. Don't sit around and do nothing. Build your life. Make yourself interesting.</div><div><br /></div><div>6. Cut ties with the party who broke your heart if it's too hard for you to handle. Throw away everything that reminds you of him/her. If you are too sentimental to throw them away, stash them up in a place where you can't see them. Stop trying to find out what's going on with the other person's life. Be realistic. Do not add salt to your wound. Also, maybe, you should stop seeing his/her friends because you will likely start talking and start asking about him/her. Which you shouldn't. You want to forget, remember? But if you are sturdy enough to NOT ask or talk about the person, then hanging out with his/her friends will still be alright. Providing they (the friends) do not bring up that topic either.</div><div><br /></div><div>7. Never give a shit about what other people say or think about you. You are the one going through hell, and not them. Ignore critics and words that will make you feel less as a person. Only take in the good things and rational opinions.</div><div><br /></div><div>Points simplified; be strong, be interesting and keep on charging forward with optimism. Don't let the past haunts your future. Stop nagging, stop sighing. There is more to life than just grieving.</div><div><br /></div><div>Time to shower. And wear the feather boa.</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div>Tyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03153158984270695142noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32611187.post-42926221621724306332008-11-26T21:09:00.000-08:002008-11-26T22:19:41.825-08:00Idiot's Guide to Being CourteousAs strange as it should be, I am right now in the university's library. This is probably my third time being here within the duration of one and a half years of my study period in this stodgy-hole. Earlier, I planned to sit here and start writing the research proposal for my Research Methodology subject. But plans would remain as plans if one does not put them into execution. And right now, I am typing away some futile notes to fill up my precious time.<div><br /></div><div>Emily Post said that manners are sensitive awareness of the feelings of others. If you have that awareness, you have good manners, no matter which fork you use.</div><div><br /></div><div>I figured there are few basic deportment to being courteous...</div><div><br /></div><div><ul><li>If you are asking someone for a favor, you don't have the right to be demanding. Accept what is offered and never boss the person whom you're asking the favor from.</li><li>Do not use one person (or many) to help another person that you would like or obliged to help.</li><li>Nothing in this world comes in for free. So always double check with the person you are asking for help if it is okay and if you can do anything to help ease the burden or repay his/her kindness. Chances are, the person would say..'<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">Oh it's okay, really, I am willing to just help...</span>', but still, never forget to perform this check. Show care to the person who has agreed to help you.</li><li>You cannot hate or accuse someone for being selfish just because he/she can't help you once out of one hundred times.</li><li>If a person has helped you for too many times for nothing else in return, do not take her/him for granted. You can't ask for too much kindness from one person if you are being so insensitive and oblivious.</li></ul><div>Common sense, yes? But sadly, not every human being is born with built-in politeness and good manners in them. Heartbreaking is when some are born with good-looks, but very little decorum. And it is even more tragic to have a not-so-good-looking person to behave in a really bad manner. Tsk, tsk..!</div><div><br /></div><div>I am not a perfect being. But I try my best to treat everyone with politeness. Even to those who are rude to me - not because they are nice, but because I'm nice. Heheh.. After all, the test of good manners is to be patient with bad ones. Phew...! I don't know how long my patience could last.</div><div><br /></div><div>Done.</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div></div>Tyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03153158984270695142noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32611187.post-42611857389848854632008-11-24T16:46:00.000-08:002008-11-24T19:21:51.150-08:00The Bell's CurveCough. Flu. It has been ages since I last got them. And now that I am down with them again, I simply forgot how to deal with these two rascals.<br /><br />I am reading Paulo Coelho's Veronika Decides to Die and is loving every word of it. This one's better. And Brida isn't that interesting anymore.<br /><br />I am having the urge to talk about taboo stuffs. But being taboo, I obviously shouldn't talk nor write about them. At least not on a public blog or on notes application on Facebook where every Tom, Dick and Harry AND every Susan, Jane and Mary were able to read my forbidden thoughts. Because if I did, far too many people will start judging me. I do not want to be put on trial. Therefore, I shall shut up.<br /><br />I was trying to figure out where I fit in among the population of ordinary people. They who have conventional thoughts and not some absurd ideas. They who think and operate to conform to society's demand and expectation. And even if conforming doesn't make them happy, they make themselves believe that they are happy. My illustration of where I am in the Bell's curve below...<br /><br /><br /><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_UFfSsOfN90g/SStobzppyYI/AAAAAAAADqg/tPuvlTlEuzs/s1600-h/dd.bmp"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5272422615697967490" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 164px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_UFfSsOfN90g/SStobzppyYI/AAAAAAAADqg/tPuvlTlEuzs/s320/dd.bmp" border="0" /></a>Hmm...<br /><br />I have a feeling that I am conjuring up a mess. I'll stop now before it gets worse. Need to go read some academical resources in order to dismiss Coelho's influence in my head and join that 68% majority of the population. Yawn! How boring...<br /><div></div>Tyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03153158984270695142noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32611187.post-27412635135980113722008-11-15T22:41:00.001-08:002008-11-15T23:06:18.387-08:00The Dog-Theory<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_UFfSsOfN90g/SR_Dg0r2MhI/AAAAAAAADqI/j5Us-P84ABY/s1600-h/jsin60l.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5269145057712550418" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 252px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_UFfSsOfN90g/SR_Dg0r2MhI/AAAAAAAADqI/j5Us-P84ABY/s320/jsin60l.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><div>It's a slow and quiet weekend. Sarah is taking her usual late afternoon nap. And here I am, wasting the hour before the Feather Boas meet up again later this evening.</div><br /><div></div><div>I talked to Ida for long hours last Thursday and was mesmerized by some dog-theory.</div><br /><div></div><div>Ida said....: <em>A dog will stay obedient to his owner despite his ill treatment because they think that that's the only owner that he has. But we are human, and we are the owner of ourselves.<br />A kid will stay with his parents even if his parents abuse him because that is the only parents he knows and we dont have the liberty of choosing our parents, but we do have the liberty to choose our partner, our life and our path.</em></div><div><em></em> </div><div></div><div>And today, I am strucked by the idea of wanting to be a child once more. Generally because skinned knees are easier to fix than broken hearts.</div><div> </div><div></div><div>It's raining outside now and Sarah will sleep longer than she promised me. So I'm gonna make her take her ass out of the couch. Right now!</div>Tyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03153158984270695142noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32611187.post-90848483437511858212008-11-14T17:16:00.000-08:002008-11-14T18:32:33.889-08:00Last Chance for Miss Cockroach<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_UFfSsOfN90g/SR4mmDghpdI/AAAAAAAADqA/fYgJj9qTi9M/s1600-h/c.gif"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5268691049288672722" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 300px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_UFfSsOfN90g/SR4mmDghpdI/AAAAAAAADqA/fYgJj9qTi9M/s320/c.gif" border="0" /></a> The new semester has begun. And it'll be my last one. Hopefully. If the school does its job proper and work on offering the two extra subjects that I need. Or else I'll be doomed with just two subjects instead of four. Doomed because this means that I will have to take the other two subjects in the next semester, thus delaying my graduation and, more money thrown in the direction of the school too (exactly what I thought the school has in their agenda - to maximize their revenue from the students. Ah, these motherfuckers..!).<br /><br />It is not easy to find someone with a totally open-mind. Sarah and I agreed on this one fortnight ago.<br /><br />How can we truly define 'open-mind'?<br /><br />Last two weeks, over our breakfast/brunch chat at home, we found that most people misunderstood the definition. In general, most people think that one who indulges in smoking, drinking, gambling and other worldly 'fun' activities is one with an open-mind. Consider this statement from someone I know..<br /><br /><em>"..I am sure she is an open-minded person, considering that she smokes and have fun drinking in clubs..."</em><br /><br />This is indeed, one very shallow judgment.<br /><br />Having an open-mind should be about having the ability and capacity to accept others in every single way. It is about the ability to listen to the opinions of others and even if their notions differ from ours, we are still able to live with it and wont hate the person for who he is and what his gray matter is made of.<br /><br />Being open-minded should be about celebrating differences. And even if you are different from us, we love you nevertheless.<br /><br />Alright now. My lentil seeds have finally arrived. Pearl bought them from a Marks & Spencer store in Aberdeen and I am thinking, how weird...Tyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03153158984270695142noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32611187.post-59801409611751591622008-11-06T00:38:00.000-08:002008-11-06T01:31:34.576-08:00A Jar With A Door<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_UFfSsOfN90g/SRK01Z7MI5I/AAAAAAAADpw/3Uwk0jIOfQU/s1600-h/cancun.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 212px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_UFfSsOfN90g/SRK01Z7MI5I/AAAAAAAADpw/3Uwk0jIOfQU/s320/cancun.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5265469743934743442" border="0" /></a><br />Am babysitting the house and the Papa while the rest of the family had a short, 3-day trip to Genting. Saty just had to find reasons to buy Qaseh few pieces of sweaters.<br /><br />Pearl just came back from Kerteh and will be leaving for Aberdeen this Sunday. And, talking about that, I was suppose to bring back some winter clothing for her...which I forgot. Tsk!<br /><br />Generally, people are nicer when they are on holidays. If you meet a guy or anyone during their holidays, you can expect him/her to be the perfect being. They are a lot cooler, good-tempered, jovial, funny and stress-free. Not to mention that they will be a lot more romantic too.<br /><br />I miss that sweet, perfect being.<br /><br />Other than that, I have nothing more to say...Or maybe I have more to say but just chose not to.<br /><br />Time for a quick nap now before the evening commence. Will meet Sarah in Desa View tonight (excited!). School will start again next week and I am determined to be more organized this final semester. I refuse to be labeled 'unorganized' by some people!<br /><br />P/s: Obama won the US presidential election and Kenya declared two days of public holiday. Just the reaction I would expect by Malaysia too if Obama was half, or quarter, or even one tenth Malaysian. No kidding! We Malaysians are generous enough to even give the Datukship title to Shah Rukh Khan.Tyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03153158984270695142noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32611187.post-34169925379164241622008-10-26T08:27:00.000-07:002008-10-26T09:34:39.859-07:00The Private InvestigatorNot too long ago I was lulled to sleep by little Tacetta singing Twinkle Twinkle Little Star.. and recently the nursery rhyme has been upgraded to the song L-O-V-E (by Nat King Cole). I adore it when she sang that line, '..V is very very, extraordinary..' - the way she says the word 'extraordinary' really makes me go pulpy.<br /><br />The exam week is finally over! There is no other moment as serene as how I am feeling right now. I feel like I could sleep for one whole week non-stop. But before I do that, let me tire you a little bit more with today's anecdotes.<br /><br />The family went to Bagan Lalang for some seafood earlier in the evening. We took the chance to walk by the beach and watch the sunset. Little Tacetta was too skeptical of the beach sand and was walking too cautious when the looney mom poured a handful of sand on her tiny feet. I laughed and felt sorry at the same time for little Tacetta because she stood there, glued to the spot, wailing at the mommy to remove the sand from her feet. Honestly, I have never seen such a fussy little girl in my whole life..<br /><br />She refused to get her feet wet.<br />She wouldn't walk on the beach barefooted.<br />She always remind everyone that she is the baby.<br />She eats food cooked from a crockpot.<br />She loves to disagree.<br />She asked way too many whats, hows and whys.<br />And she adores the mirror.<br /><br />But I love her.<br /><br />P/s: I just wrote a short module on time value of money and personal cash flow this morning for my dad. Can you believe it? Just when I thought I have gotten over all financial subjects...Tyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03153158984270695142noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32611187.post-64854631904543730182008-10-23T06:41:00.000-07:002008-10-23T07:40:24.060-07:00Raiding the Emergency Room<div>It's amazing how the yearning for writing notes during exam week could raid my supposedly panic-stricken state of mind. I am sitting for the last paper for this semester tomorrow at noon, but already I am seeing paradise.</div><div><br /></div><div>By the way, I screwed today's paper. And screwed the one before that too. I hope I won't be screwing tomorrow's, but I have a feeling that once I screwed, I will always screw. Tsk, tsk..!</div><div><br /></div>Ok. So let's say you cheat.<div><br /></div><div>In an exam. </div><div><br /></div><div>Would you admit the fact that you cheated, to your friends? Or would you just keep quiet and pretended to everyone that you are a person of high morale, and with undoubtedly good brains too?</div><div><br /></div><div>Which one is more detestable? To cheat and owning up to it? To cheat and putting up a front? Or just the plain fact that you cheated in the first place?</div><div><br /></div><div>Here's my conclusion...</div><div><br /></div><div>Cheating is inexorable. Sometimes, it is even predestined. Sarah is so going to disagree on this. But people cheat because they have to. They cheat because they are desperate.</div><div><br /></div><div>To cheat and proudly admitting is audacity. It may be idiotic at times, or even, for most of the time. Nevertheless, it is still something very courageous and gutsy to be able to concede to your deceitful behaviour.</div><div><br /></div><div>But to cheat and pretend that you are a saint is downright hypocrisy. Especially when you overdo the saintly part. Unquestionably '<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">keji</span>', I call it.</div><div><br /></div><div>Well, then...</div><div><br /></div><div>Another seating for tomorrow.</div><div>Will party for profit during the weekend.</div><div>And NO more raiding of the emergency room (at least for another month).</div><div><br /></div>Tyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03153158984270695142noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32611187.post-40879177312177322352008-10-21T20:11:00.000-07:002008-10-21T20:38:20.094-07:00The Two Tys<div>I know! I should be studying...! But the temptation...</div><div><br /></div><div>Let's take a moment for these two Tys. Tyrese Gibson or Tyson Beckford? Tyrese or Tyson?</div><div><br /></div><div>Girls..(Sarah and Mareena), I know we've been fighting over Tyrese all these while. And I've decided now to let go of Tyrese and opt for Tyson. Hahaha! So you two can continue brawling over Tyrese. Tyson's waaaayyyyyyy, hotter! L.O.L!</div><div><br /></div><div>And everyone else, who do you choose?</div><div><br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_UFfSsOfN90g/SP6ePKqpWyI/AAAAAAAADpo/6kOAm9he08A/s1600-h/05-tyrese-gibson-103007.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_UFfSsOfN90g/SP6ePKqpWyI/AAAAAAAADpo/6kOAm9he08A/s320/05-tyrese-gibson-103007.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5259815398213770018" /></a><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">Tyrese Gibson</span></div><div><br /></div><div>Or....</div><div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_UFfSsOfN90g/SP6eKBo3pnI/AAAAAAAADpg/g75BaUDyBvE/s1600-h/_tyson_beckford2.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_UFfSsOfN90g/SP6eKBo3pnI/AAAAAAAADpg/g75BaUDyBvE/s320/_tyson_beckford2.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5259815309891053170" /></a><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">Tyson Beckford</span></div></div><div><br /></div><div>Or...</div><div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_UFfSsOfN90g/SP6eDxAQAZI/AAAAAAAADpY/gplmtQtYH3I/s1600-h/P9070296.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_UFfSsOfN90g/SP6eDxAQAZI/AAAAAAAADpY/gplmtQtYH3I/s320/P9070296.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5259815202346500498" /></a><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">Ty!</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:13px;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Hahahahaha...! Owh... This is a totally pointless entry...</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><br /></div>Tyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03153158984270695142noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32611187.post-35349454054364339262008-10-21T02:14:00.000-07:002008-10-21T02:59:50.240-07:00And Then One Night, The Bed Broke...<div><br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_UFfSsOfN90g/SP2m-WsbqmI/AAAAAAAADow/d6xE4-vr09A/s1600-h/Untitled"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_UFfSsOfN90g/SP2m-WsbqmI/AAAAAAAADow/d6xE4-vr09A/s320/Untitled" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5259543530012650082" /></a><div>Hello. Financial Management exam is over today. Allow me to exhale. Thank you.<br /></div><div><br /></div><div>One down. Two more to go.</div><div><br /></div><div>I have so much to say but too little time. I came across some old emails and found something so meaningful, I indubitably think that I should put it up here for everyone to read...</div><div><br /></div><div>So here's my own adapted version of the e-mail, sent by a friend, some 4 years back.</div><div><br /></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">Every person will need to find three people in their life...: the person you love most, the person who loves you most and the one you spend the rest of your life with. But alas! In reality, these three people are usually not the same person.</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">The one you love most doesn't love you. The one who love you most is never the one you love most. And the one you spend your life with, is never the one you love most or the one who love you most. He/She is just the person who happens to be at the right place at the right time.</span></div><div><br /></div><div>The three people. Have you found them all?</div><div><br /></div><div>Oh, well. Back to editing report now.</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div>Tyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03153158984270695142noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32611187.post-63323821863231928602008-10-11T04:13:00.001-07:002008-10-11T04:54:52.967-07:00NasTyOkay. Time to bore you people with another emotional entry.<div><br /></div><div>I have just sewn up some massive amount of assignments today. I stayed in the whole day today and I swear, there has never been a day in my life that has been this much peaceful. I was completely alone, indulging in my own state of solitary. Ah..., sheer bliss.</div><div><br /></div><div>I am wrestling with time right now. My hands are full with endless school task plus the upcoming exams. And don't even make me start about my pesky life issues. School is too strenuous these days and it will be more so this coming fortnight. It is only necessary for me to leave everything else behind and concentrate on the academics. No matter how other things are so bothering me right now.</div><div><br /></div><div>Well, let's get to the boring part.</div><div><br /></div><div>I am a horrible, horrible person. And this is why I said so...</div><div><br /></div><div>I am a user. I use people. I take people's life and money and ran away with it.</div><div><br /></div><div>I don't know how to love and often I hurt the people who deserve love.</div><div><br /></div><div>I am selfish and I always put myself first on top of others. It is always about me and never about you.</div><div><br /></div><div>I am ungrateful and unappreciative. You can give me this and that, and I am still the spoiled hellcat who won't see the sacrifices others have made.</div><div><br /></div><div>I am lazy and indecisive.</div><div><br /></div><div>I don't do sacrifice. I don't give. I only receive.</div><div><br /></div><div>I am rude. I say mean things to people.</div><div><br /></div><div>Like my niece, I have anger management issues.</div><div><br /></div><div>I always look for faults in others and never at my own.</div><div><br /></div><div>I don't handle criticism and rejection very well.</div><div><br /></div><div>I am not compassionate.</div><div><br /></div><div>I am all that. Really.</div>Tyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03153158984270695142noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32611187.post-12900263417043849802008-10-08T05:32:00.000-07:002008-10-08T06:01:02.900-07:00It's Not Right, But It's Okay..If I happened to be happy, I must have done something evil.<br /><div><br /></div><div>My different opinion makes me a defiant person. And because of that, I shouldn't be heard.</div><div><br /></div><div>I am considered as rude, though I hardly say insulting remarks.</div><div><br /></div><div>I speak English with Malay accent because I don't see why I should fake an accent when I am not a native speaker.</div><div><br /></div><div>And according to Tengku Akbar, my English is not up to standard.</div><div><br /></div><div>Oops, I talked too much. It's time to shut up.</div><div><br /></div><div>P/s: I love my Malaysian accent 'lah'...!</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div>Tyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03153158984270695142noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32611187.post-89282033194994383032008-10-03T16:57:00.000-07:002008-10-03T17:20:20.329-07:00Sad-a-DayIt rained when I woke up this morning. And I woke up to a combo of splitting headache and a hungry tummy. Right now I am in dire need of tender, loving care. I need one very high dosage of those three.<br /><br />Last night I had a dream. I dreamt of Sarah, Mareena, Tyiara, Sarah's sister (Mas) and a strong, young man.<br /><br />I was dead sick in the dream. And the strong, young chap carried me in his arms while the rest of the ladies were tending to semi-conscious me.<br /><br />Right. My grey matter isn't working too efficient this morning. Fingers are moving at sloth speed. And I look like hell.<br /><br />Gosh, I am so hungry I think I might as well eat a horse. Let's go see what is there to eat. Hope Sunday will be as sunny as it should be.Tyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03153158984270695142noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32611187.post-60666370738170546342008-10-03T05:13:00.000-07:002008-10-03T06:10:28.060-07:00Bourbon Balls, Scotch BallsPearl made some bourbon balls and I have been popping them balls into my mouth non-stop. I am suffering from heavy-eyelids syndrome right now because I had very little sleep last night and as tasty as the bourbon balls are, they are not helping me to stay awake at all.<div><br /></div><div>Indecisiveness is a real nuisance. The fear of making the wrong decision will make it even harder for that judgment call to be made. Often we would weigh and continue weighing our choices time and time again. And the more we allow ourselves to ponder upon it, the more we are bewildered by the possibility of each outcome.</div><div><br /></div><div>This is nothing new. But how would you feel if your decision shows how selfish you are? Will you feel bad for the rest of your life? Would you regret? Or would you think it is just passable for you to think that only yourself matters in making any decisions? After all, you are dealing with your own happiness.</div><div><br /></div><div>All I can say right now is that if you hurt others, there will be time when others will hurt you back. People generally pay for what they do, and still more, for what they have allowed themselves to become. And they pay for it simply. That is by the lives they lead.</div><div><br /></div><div>Maybe Pearl should make some scotch balls after this...</div>Tyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03153158984270695142noreply@blogger.com2