<?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-3624353</id><updated>2011-12-23T13:13:34.195-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Take My Hand</title><subtitle type='html'>a blog is a blog, you can turn it around but it is still a blog</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://shmily.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3624353/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://shmily.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><link rel='next' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3624353/posts/default?start-index=101&amp;max-results=100'/><author><name>chrysff</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>128</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3624353.post-81647657</id><published>2002-09-15T17:27:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2002-09-15T17:32:25.996-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Everyone's probably been wondering what has happened with me. Well, 6 days left until my engagement day &amp; everything's so stressful. His parents think we're big enough to take care everything while my parents think that I'm not old enough to take care anything, especially my mom. She makes list of things to do &amp; needs my 24/7 attention which is still not enough for her. Anyway, I talked to her a couple weeks ago about postponing my wedding. It's not in February &amp; won't be any time next year. &lt;i&gt;Until our parents can get along.&lt;/i&gt; I only told Olivia about it &amp; never ever will tell Anthony. It's just something I overheard while I was at his place &amp; I decided that we will be engaged &lt;i&gt;probably&lt;/i&gt; forever. &amp; oh, I've been a bit cranky these last few days because my skirts &amp; jeans don't fit anymore. Blah!&lt;p&gt;*Smoochies* for Tiara, Trish, Ellen &amp; Ked! You all are still on my mind... [see, you beat Anthony] ^_^&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3624353-81647657?l=shmily.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3624353/posts/default/81647657'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3624353/posts/default/81647657'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://shmily.blogspot.com/2002_09_15_archive.html#81647657' title=''/><author><name>chrysff</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3624353.post-81263691</id><published>2002-09-06T20:11:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2002-09-06T20:16:01.143-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I didn't do Friday's collabs as well [so sorry, &lt;a href="http://upsaid.com/blushed"&gt;Trish&lt;/a&gt;]. For the last 2 days I've been busy with uni stuffs &amp; help Olivia with her questionnaire. Well that shall explain the reason why I probably won't have time to make several or even any entry later. I'll make this brief because I have to get back to my thesis.&lt;p&gt;Olivia &amp; I were at Anthony's place Thursday night. We made the questionnaire [easier when there are 2] until 3am while Anthony played some Japan war game on the other computer. Went to bed, three of us, I could hardly sleep because I felt stuck in the middle &amp; the room wasn't really cool even with the air-con. Woke up at 8am by alarm from Olivia's cellphone, 5 minutes later from Anthony's. After they turned those damn thing off, I continued to sleep until 9.30am. He went downstairs to get us breakfast from the kitchen, we took shower in turn, then went to the uni. Lots of people were there &amp; I got to meet a few teachers I'm close with. They talked to me &amp; encouraged me to graduate early next year. After going here &amp; there the whole day for lunch, text books &amp; other things, we headed back to Anthony's &amp; stayed there until 9.30pm. We played games &amp; did some browsing on the internet.&lt;p&gt;There's something on my mind about Anthony. It was kinda awkward for me but probably it's just me being over sensitive. When he's done shower &amp; walked out, he changed clothes where we could seem him from the bed. He was only in his underwear. Olivia was reading a magazine with me so she didn't care about it, but I gave him signal that she's there, not just me. He told me like, "Oh, it's only her..." How if it's the other way around, I'm the who was changing clothes &amp; there's not my friend but his male friend?&lt;p&gt;&amp; when we were about to go home, I asked Olivia about my newspaper she brought with her all day since I couldn't find it anywhere. She said she put them on the table. Anthony told me, "That's mine not yours."&lt;br&gt;I asked, "It's a women's tabloid. Why would you read that?"&lt;br&gt;"I dunno. Just for wasting my time," he said. &lt;i&gt;&amp; I thought when we purchased that damn thing, he bought it for me...&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br&gt;So I didn't say a word about that stupid thing again. I was quiet the whole time when he drove us all home. He asked me what happened with me &amp; I told him that I was thinking. He asked me what &amp; I just told him that I couldn't tell, which I tell you now. Yeah, maybe I'm just being too sensitive about this. Maybe it's nothing. Maybe I'm just tired &amp; feel offended about normal things. Ok, this is not brief anymore. This is long. I have to go now. Anyway, what do you think...?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3624353-81263691?l=shmily.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3624353/posts/default/81263691'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3624353/posts/default/81263691'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://shmily.blogspot.com/2002_09_01_archive.html#81263691' title=''/><author><name>chrysff</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3624353.post-81146142</id><published>2002-09-04T09:54:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2002-09-04T10:00:47.923-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I should've posted today's collabs here, but I don't feel like doing it right now. I don't feel very well, probably because I'm nervous about everything. School stuffs, engagement stuffs.. I've been taking my diet pills again. I don't know why, I just do that when I'm nervous &amp; the pills make me sleepy. I took one before I went to bed this evening &amp; woke up an hour ago. I had a peacefully sleep until my parents came to the room, talking &amp; making noises, that woke me up. Now I'm here. Marc isn't online, but Jay is &amp; he just told me that my nickname on msn kinda looks like Marc's. I think he figured out somehow that I've been talking to Marc. I don't care. Why would I?&lt;p&gt;Anyway, I'm talking to &lt;a href="http://nakedthoughts.blogspot.com"&gt;Tiara&lt;/a&gt; &amp; Ed on msn right now. I just sent email to Ed using Incredimail... i love it! Lemme get back to them k...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3624353-81146142?l=shmily.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3624353/posts/default/81146142'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3624353/posts/default/81146142'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://shmily.blogspot.com/2002_09_01_archive.html#81146142' title=''/><author><name>chrysff</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3624353.post-81124058</id><published>2002-09-03T20:56:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2002-09-03T20:56:13.360-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;img src="http://www.rightmousebutton.com/people2/mailman.gif" align="right" hspace="4" vspace="2"&gt;I love this &lt;a href="http://www.incredimail.com/english/splash.html"&gt;Incredimail&lt;/a&gt;!&lt;p&gt;I talked to &lt;a href="http://upsaid.com/blushed"&gt;Trish&lt;/a&gt; the other day &amp; she told me about it. Not that I never heard about this before, but just never thought about downloading it. So anyway, it's super cool! I've got this old man who would appear from the right side of my monitor everytime I have new mails. The annoying part after I downloaded it was when I received like 30-40 new mails coming out of nowhere! Argh! Some were the old ones like they're moving them into my computer &amp; the rest were dated February-June which I had never received before. I also got the email that &lt;a href="http://nakedthoughts.blogspot.com"&gt;Tiara&lt;/a&gt; sent me ages ago. She had fixed my template [I thought she'd forgotten!] &amp; sent it to me but I'd never received it until earlier today. Thank you so much, T... *hugz* too bad I didn't get it before *sigh*.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3624353-81124058?l=shmily.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3624353/posts/default/81124058'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3624353/posts/default/81124058'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://shmily.blogspot.com/2002_09_01_archive.html#81124058' title=''/><author><name>chrysff</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3624353.post-81117320</id><published>2002-09-03T18:19:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2002-09-03T20:48:01.833-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;b&gt;Life &amp; Death.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;p&gt;Yesterday was a special day for Ellen because it was her birthday &amp; everybody was happy for her. But yesterday was also a special day to our family. Grandma Len, the wife of Grandpa John, my grandma's brother from dad's side, passed away at 11.30am at Gouda hospital, Netherlands [4.35am local time]. When Dad called Grandpa John last night, he told us that now Grandma Len is happy with the Lord. She had been sick for months suffering from diabetes &amp; heart problem &amp; Grandpa John thought that it was already too much for her. &lt;i&gt;Farewell, Grandma. Till we meet again...&lt;/i&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3624353-81117320?l=shmily.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3624353/posts/default/81117320'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3624353/posts/default/81117320'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://shmily.blogspot.com/2002_09_01_archive.html#81117320' title=''/><author><name>chrysff</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3624353.post-81116484</id><published>2002-09-03T18:00:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2002-09-03T20:42:30.140-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;center&gt;&lt;a href="http://redalert.barrysworld.net/testzone/blogger.html"&gt;Tuesday Too #28&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;ol&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;b&gt;What, is it Tuesday again? Okay then, what is the day most likely to be if yesterday was Monday?&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br&gt;Tuesday indeed.&lt;p&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;b&gt;Now here's a real question for you. What is the most important/significant thing that you have on your plate today? And no I don't mean spinach or potatoes; I mean nuts and bolts.&lt;/b&gt;Rice, like I always have everyday.&lt;p&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;b&gt;Ask me anything you'd like to know, and I just might tell you, or I might not.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br&gt;What's got into you today? I mean, these questions... are they real?&lt;p&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;b&gt;Is the Tuesday Too person losing her mind?&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br&gt;Probably she's having a hard Tuesday, hee-hee.&lt;p&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;b&gt;Is this the end of the Tuesday Too?&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br&gt;There's always an end for everything, but let it not be soon.&lt;/ol&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3624353-81116484?l=shmily.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3624353/posts/default/81116484'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3624353/posts/default/81116484'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://shmily.blogspot.com/2002_09_01_archive.html#81116484' title=''/><author><name>chrysff</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3624353.post-81079003</id><published>2002-09-02T23:42:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2002-09-02T23:42:20.200-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;center&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.ailurophile.com/"&gt;Tuesday This-or-That&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;ol&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;b&gt;Tom Hanks or Tom Cruise?&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br&gt;Tom Hanks. I love his movies, he's such a great actor. Not that I don't like Tom Cruise, but thinking of Forrest Gump, Philadelphia, Sleepless In Seattle... come on...&lt;p&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;b&gt;Julia Roberts or Julia Stiles?&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br&gt;Julia Roberts. I only love Julia Stiles's dancing in Save The Last Dance.&lt;p&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;b&gt;Kevin Costner or Kevin Spacey?&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br&gt;Kevin Costner. Hot sekzieh guy, anyone? :)&lt;p&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;b&gt;Ben Affleck or Ben Stiller?&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br&gt;Ben Affleck.&lt;p&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;b&gt;Sean Connery or Sean Penn?&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br&gt;Sean Connery. He's old but he's still hot.&lt;p&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;b&gt;Jennifer Lopez or Jennifer Aniston?&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br&gt;Jennifer Aniston.&lt;p&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;b&gt;Courtney Love or Courtney Cox-Arquette?&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br&gt;Cortney Cox-Arquette - the ambitious perfectionist Monica in Friends.&lt;p&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;b&gt;Sarah Michelle Gelllar or Sarah Jessica Parker?&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br&gt;Sarah Jessica Parker.&lt;p&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;b&gt;Michael Douglas or Mike Myers?&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br&gt;Mike Myers doesn't look serious &amp; not that funny either, so Michael Douglass. He's more a gentleman.&lt;p&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;b&gt;Nicole Kidman or (Anna) Nicole Smith?&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br&gt;Nicole Kidman, unless the question was: "the bigger her breast, the dumber she gets. who is she?"&lt;/ol&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3624353-81079003?l=shmily.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3624353/posts/default/81079003'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3624353/posts/default/81079003'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://shmily.blogspot.com/2002_09_01_archive.html#81079003' title=''/><author><name>chrysff</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3624353.post-81076651</id><published>2002-09-02T22:19:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2002-09-02T22:25:55.150-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;center&gt;&lt;a href=""&gt;The "If..." Project&lt;/a&gt; - September 2002&lt;/center&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;i&gt;If your life could be remembered by the entire world for only one reason, what would you want that reason to be? What would you like to accomplish or achieve that will make the world speak your name centuries from now?&lt;/i&gt;&lt;p&gt;Probably for something good in the name of humanity. I wouldn't want to become "famous" like Adolph Hitler or Joseph Stalin [no tribute or official site dedicated to them - good!]. People do mention their names for centuries but with deep hatred because of the terrible things they had done in their lives. I would want to be lovingly remembered like &lt;a href="http://www.americancatholic.org/Features/Teresa/"&gt;Mother Teresa [Agnes Bojaxhiu]&lt;/a&gt;, &lt;a href="http://www.florence-nightingale.co.uk/"&gt;Florence Nightingale&lt;/a&gt; or &lt;a href="http://www.theworkcontinues.org/"&gt;Lady Diana&lt;/a&gt; for the good things they had done for people &amp; children. I've seen the movie about Mother Teresa's struggle to help poor people in Calcutta, India, &amp; how people rejected her at first but then supported her when they realized her pure intention &amp; strong will. I also read about Florence Nightingale when I was a child. She was a nurse who became legend for raising nursing to the level of a respectable profession for women during the Crimean War years. She wrote books about nursing, hospital planning &amp; organization, &amp; even established training schools for nurses. &amp; Diana... what can I say about her. She's queen of people's hearts...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3624353-81076651?l=shmily.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3624353/posts/default/81076651'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3624353/posts/default/81076651'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://shmily.blogspot.com/2002_09_01_archive.html#81076651' title=''/><author><name>chrysff</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3624353.post-81074135</id><published>2002-09-02T21:11:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2002-09-02T21:11:54.990-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>The plan didn't go well.&lt;p&gt; I was overslept &amp; woke up at 9.10am. I called Anthony &amp; it took forever until he finally answered the phone, said that he was very sick. So I told him to get some rest then I'd tell Ellen that we couldn't make it. I thought they must had left to the beach anyway since it's already way over 9. But then at 9.45 she called. I told her what had happened &amp; she still wanted me to come to her office. They still had one car left &amp; she would wait for me. I was talking to Marc that moment so I didn't really feel like going actually, but I had to. So I went to shower, called Olivia to come over &amp; got ready for the beach party. She arrived half an hour later &amp; the journey began.&lt;p&gt;I wouldn't had gone if I knew it would be so hard to get there. Not to mention the heat - gosh, I felt like frying myself under the sun. Anyway, since the office isn't far from here, just unreachable, so we had to take three different route &amp; make a bit walking. When we finally arrived, we kinda had trouble asking their names since the building is not just for one company, there are 5 &amp; I don't know which one they're in &amp; the guy didn't familiar with their names. He wasn't a friendly person either. We became a bit tense &amp; confused until another guy came &amp; told us to go to the next office at the right side of the building. He happened to know Ellen &amp; Jane but he said they might had gone since the office was closed.&lt;p&gt;We went there but found nobody. They surely had gone long ago. We met a guy who was writing something in one of the rooms. He said that the others had gone by cars &amp; he wasn't sure if Ellen &amp; Jane would come back after that. Ugh. Well, at least I've tried... you know. Feeling a bit guilty to Olivia, though, since she's got stuffs to do at school &amp; I made her going with me all the way there for nothing. &amp; now I'm here again. I hope Ellen will forgive me for not going to her party. I did come, just too late.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3624353-81074135?l=shmily.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3624353/posts/default/81074135'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3624353/posts/default/81074135'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://shmily.blogspot.com/2002_09_01_archive.html#81074135' title=''/><author><name>chrysff</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3624353.post-81057663</id><published>2002-09-02T14:39:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2002-09-02T20:46:46.866-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>On Sunday, at the evening service, the church was a bit crowded since it's the first day of National Holy Bible Week &amp; the altar was decorated with fresh flowers - white &amp; yellow - which was so beautiful. After the service, we went to see Pastor Feighty &amp; he told us that next Sunday there will be a &lt;i&gt;receiving &lt;/i&gt; at 9am [2nd morning service]. Yay, finally he's going to be a Catholic! So later that night, my mom talked with us &amp; set the engagement date for us. It will be on September 22. &lt;p&gt;So yesterday morning we made a list of people who's gonna be invited to our engagement party, catering, music, tent, extra beverages [beers &amp; soft drinks] &amp; whatsoever. I never thought I would ever be into this thing: making list, planning for &lt;i&gt;my&lt;/i&gt; engagement party... never thought it would be so soon. But I'm so excited about it &amp; sure about Anthony.&lt;p&gt;This morning I'm going with Anthony to Ellen's beach birthday party at 9am. I've bought a very cute blouse for her present last night. She said her husband might not come since he works until evening, so there will be just us, Jane &amp; Michael, &amp; her co-workers at work [they have a day-off today]. I wish her 2 years old daughter, Eria, would come too. She's so beautiful &amp; adorable. I saw her once when Ellen took her at Nining's wedding two months ago. She was a bit shy so I didn't talk much to her since she kept hiding behind her dad. I'll bring a camera &amp; make some photos there.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3624353-81057663?l=shmily.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3624353/posts/default/81057663'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3624353/posts/default/81057663'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://shmily.blogspot.com/2002_09_01_archive.html#81057663' title=''/><author><name>chrysff</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3624353.post-81057218</id><published>2002-09-02T14:30:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2002-09-02T14:37:40.743-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;center&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.promoguy.net/"&gt;PromoGuy's Monday Mission 2.35 &lt;/a&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;ol&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;b&gt;What's the most embarrassing thing that's ever happened to you on a date?&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br&gt;Once I dated a really cute guy back in high school. He was one of the popular guys at school &amp; he just moved back from Canada. Anyway, he had this kind of finger cuff for his bag accessory &amp; one time when we went to his friend's house, I played with it while they were talking about stuffs. Somehow I got my right middle finger caught. This started to get embarrassing because as I tried hard to pull my finger, it just didn't come off. So finally I told him what had happened. He laughed at me, called his friend over &amp; as they both were laughing at me, his friend tried to open the cuff with a wire since my boyfriend had left the key back at Canada. Eventually I got my finger free, with a little scar on it. &lt;b&gt;That&lt;/b&gt; was embarrassing! ^_^&lt;p&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;b&gt;Do you eat your veggies?&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br&gt;Depends on what kind of veggies I have.&lt;p&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;b&gt;Most people are comfortable going to the bathroom in front of at least one person. Has anyone ever used the restroom in front of you that you wish wouldn't have? What happened and how bad was it?&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br&gt;No, I've never had that trouble except while I'm in the bathroom at school, one of my teachers is in there too. Then I will be speechless.&lt;p&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;b&gt;Have you ever had a bad online transaction? You know, the item wasn't what you thought it would be, you got totally ripped-off, no refunds, it just plain sucked? What's the story there?&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br&gt;I've never bought anything online or made online transaction because 1) I don't have credit card, 2) If I had,  I wouldn't want to buy anything online because someone else might use my number.&lt;p&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;b&gt;Ever have a current love find any old love letters (or similar item) you kept that probably should have been thrown away? How did that turn out?&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br&gt;No, because I have kept those letters somewhere even I don't remember anymore. I spend more time at Anthony's place anyway, so there's no chance that he might find them. But he still keeps his old love letters, cards &amp; pictures with his old flames in his drawer. I don't know why since he could've just left them at Jakarta. Probably he hasn't gotten over it ;)&lt;p&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;b&gt;Was there ever a time when you did something totally outrageous because you knew no one would know who you were, or maybe didn't care even if they did?&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br&gt;Well, so far nothing too wild.&lt;p&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;b&gt;Hey, what happened to you last night? I waited forever!&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br&gt;I was at Anthony's &amp; when I came back, I was too sleepy to stay online on the computer.&lt;/ol&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;b&gt;BONUS:&lt;/b&gt; &lt;i&gt;I know I could break you down, but what good would it do?&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br&gt;No good at all. Why? What for?&lt;p&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;a href="http://the-onion.net/mm/"&gt;Monday Memories&lt;/a&gt; - For Somebody Else&lt;/center&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;i&gt;Do you remember doing something special for somebody else? What did you do? Did you have help? Would you do it again?&lt;br&gt;Tell us...&lt;/i&gt;&lt;p&gt;I haven't done something special to anyone recently. I just try to remember people's birthdays, attend their parties or send them gifts - if I can consider it special. But I don't think it's special. It's just normal, something I do every year. I haven't been a part of a surprise party [I wish I had even once] because it's unsual here. But a few times years ago I used to buy books or stuffs for my mom, wrapped it nicely &amp; put it at the place where she could find it soon - like in her closet, drawer or under her pillow. I just wanted to show her how much I love her, that's all. That reminds me that I haven't done it for quite so long...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3624353-81057218?l=shmily.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3624353/posts/default/81057218'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3624353/posts/default/81057218'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://shmily.blogspot.com/2002_09_01_archive.html#81057218' title=''/><author><name>chrysff</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3624353.post-81014759</id><published>2002-09-01T20:18:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2002-09-01T20:24:33.776-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;center&gt;&lt;a href="http://goddezzbidches.blogspot.com/"&gt;Sunday Stumpers&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;ol&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;b&gt;What's one thing in your life that you can't live without?&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br&gt;God. He's the source of everything, even life itself.&lt;p&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;b&gt;What's missing from your life right now?&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br&gt;Completeness. I don't know where to find it or how am I going to get it - or am I really missing it. It's just that I don't feel complete right now. I don't know why.&lt;p&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;b&gt;When you are alone with your special/ideal someone, without benefit of TV, radio, games, or books, do you spend your time laughing, fighting, having deep discussions, in silence, or pulling your hair out?&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br&gt; Laughing, having discussions about everything, cuddling up on the bed... &amp; one thing leads to another &lt;i&gt;hee-hee&lt;/i&gt;. Kidding :P &lt;p&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;b&gt;Things happen in our lives and have the potential to change us profoundly. Are you still the same person you've been all your life regardless of those events?&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br&gt;I'm still the same person, though, but during my life I've learnt so much &amp; been through lots of things since it's a part of growing.&lt;p&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;b&gt;Are you content now?&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br&gt;Currently most of the time.&lt;/ol&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;font size="1"&gt;No &lt;a href="http://www.christopherpowers.com/oped/"&gt;Sunday Op-Ed&lt;/a&gt; &amp; I passed &lt;a href="http://www.creativedoubt.org/blog/weeklywanderings.php"&gt;Weekly Wanderings&lt;/a&gt; &amp; &lt;a href="http://www.mariwood.com/weeklywrapup/"&gt;The Weekly Wrap-Up&lt;/a&gt;  ^_^&lt;/font&gt; &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3624353-81014759?l=shmily.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3624353/posts/default/81014759'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3624353/posts/default/81014759'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://shmily.blogspot.com/2002_09_01_archive.html#81014759' title=''/><author><name>chrysff</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3624353.post-80983608</id><published>2002-08-31T22:55:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2002-09-01T00:58:24.853-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;img src="http://www.rightmousebutton.com/people2/knightmaidenholdinghands.gif" align="right" hspace="5" vspace="2"&gt;I had wonderful time talking with Marc all morning. We had been chatting in msn for 5 hours before he went to bed. He sent me pictures of his room [one's &lt;a href="http://www.gotpoetry.com/poets/chrysant/room1.jpg"&gt;here&lt;/a&gt;]. I love the lights, the white brick walls &amp; the simplicity of everything. The last tune he sent me was Mendelssohn - Wedding March. Huh?? &lt;i&gt;Hee-hee!&lt;/i&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3624353-80983608?l=shmily.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3624353/posts/default/80983608'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3624353/posts/default/80983608'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://shmily.blogspot.com/2002_08_25_archive.html#80983608' title=''/><author><name>chrysff</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3624353.post-80981595</id><published>2002-08-31T21:46:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2002-08-31T22:03:02.060-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;img src="http://cultura.gencat.es/llengcat/gifs/fotos/scooby.jpg" align="left" hspace="5" vspace="2"&gt;Last night I went to see &lt;a href="http://promo.warnerbros.com/scoobydoo/home.html"&gt;Scooby Doo&lt;/a&gt; with Anthony, Danny &amp; Olivia. We were 5 minutes late so we kinda missed the point why the Mystery Inc. crew splitted up in the beginning, but the movie was great - &amp; hillarious!! Scooby looks so real, I feel like I could really touch him or hug him like Shaggy did. I'm a bit disappointed though to the fact that Scrappy Doo turned out to be the bad "guy" since he was just a funny little puppy in the old Scooby t.v. series. But I love it anyway &amp; laughed a lot. After the movie, we drove Danny &amp; Olivia back to Girsa internet cafe since Olivia was supposed to meet Barry there at 11pm [he wasn't there yet when we arrived].&lt;p&gt;Anyway, there has been a terrible accident in front of Girsa. Two bikes had a horrible crash the other night, killed both drivers &amp; badly injured the passenger. Hanny was one of the people who lifted the bodies &amp; - if I'm not mistaken - took them to the hospital.&lt;p&gt;So, when I was in the bathroom at Anthony's, Irv called. I told him I just went to see Scooby Doo &amp; he sounded like he didn't like me going out with the crew on Saturday night &amp; having fun. He probably wanted me to still feel bad &amp; stay home most of the time. He said I go out too much. Well, I don't feel bad about anything. I'm happy with Anthony &amp; I think this is the best decision by not being with Irv anymore. I've saved our hearts from getting more hurt or hurting each other even more.&lt;p&gt;I came home at 1am after we watched Hard Cash then I talked to Marc again until 2:30am. He's so nice. We're also talking now, since 8:30 this morning, &amp; he sent me some tunes in the msn. One of them is Sarah Brightman - La Califfa. Her voice is so beautiful... &amp; Marc is so sweet. ^_^&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3624353-80981595?l=shmily.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3624353/posts/default/80981595'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3624353/posts/default/80981595'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://shmily.blogspot.com/2002_08_25_archive.html#80981595' title=''/><author><name>chrysff</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3624353.post-80976510</id><published>2002-08-31T19:01:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2002-08-31T19:03:53.560-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Oh no, a day late again:&lt;p&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;a href="http://saturday8.blogspot.com"&gt;Saturday-8&lt;/a&gt;: "Fly Me To The Moon ..."&lt;/center&gt;&lt;ol&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;b&gt;When was the last time you watched the sky and how was it?&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br&gt;Few days ago when I was hanging out with my friends at the boulevard. The sky was so beautiful &amp; clear. Stars were everywhere.&lt;p&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;b&gt;If man in the moon was real, how does he look like? What does he do up there?&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br&gt;Well, he is old &amp; wise just like a grandpa should be, &amp; he is watching over the Earth.&lt;p&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;b&gt;Have you ever made a wish when you saw a falling star? What was it?&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br&gt;Different wish each time. Actually I don't believe that my wish would come true, but it's like a game I play everytime I see a falling star.&lt;p&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;b&gt;Which one you like better? The moon or the sun? Why?&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br&gt;Both. When the weather's too cold, I need the sun to warmth me. But when night comes &amp; it begins to get dark, I wait for the moon to brighten everything.&lt;p&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;b&gt;Imagine now you are walking under the moonlight. Where were you now? And who you were with? If you were with someone or some people, what were you doing now besides walking?&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br&gt;Anthony &amp; I were walking by the sea together - holding hands under the moonlight - &amp; the stars were twinkling high above. Then we vowed to be together till we die.&lt;p&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;b&gt;Is the moon female or male? Why you thought so?&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br&gt;The moon should be a female because she looks so beautiful &amp; bright.&lt;p&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;b&gt;Who are the stars for the moon? Are they friends or family or strangers? Why?&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br&gt;They are the children of The Sun &amp; The Moon, but since their dad has to work in the morning so they accompany their mother at night. Sometimes very early in the morning while The Sun is coming up, we can still see The Moon. That's the time when The Moon gives The Sun a morning kiss before she goes to sleep with their children.&lt;p&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;b&gt;Have you ever wished walking in the moon? Not like what Michael Jackson did, but Neil Amstrong, of course ... If so, what would be the first thing you did once you were there?&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br&gt;"Hey, I'm walking in the moon! Would you take my picture?"&lt;/ol&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;a href="http://scruples.phoxxe.com/"&gt;Saturday Scruples&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;ol&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;b&gt;The couple in the next apartment is brawling. Later, you speak to the woman who has minor bruises. She asks you not to call the police. Do you call them?&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br&gt;As much as I want to help her, I can't just go to the police without her permission. What if she denies it &amp; says that she fell from the stairs? The only thing I can do is suggesting her to go to the police or the social service.&lt;p&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;b&gt;A member of the school board is convicted of shoplifting. She is a competent official. As a parent, do you support demands for her resignation?&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br&gt;I think I have to talk first with the other parents &amp; make the decision together.&lt;p&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;b&gt;You're shaken up in an auto accident. Your lawyer can get a large settlement if you exaggerate your aches and pains. Do you?&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br&gt;No, I wouldn't. What if they take me to the hospital &amp; finds out that I'm just fine? I could be in big trouble. I also believe in karma &amp; I don't want to &lt;i&gt;really&lt;/i&gt; get terrible aches &amp; pains next time.&lt;/ol&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;a href="http://roadsidegurl.tripod.com/sexysaturday.html"&gt;Sexy Saturday&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;i&gt;Do you think size counts? Please explain why you picked yes or no!&lt;/i&gt;&lt;p&gt;Uhm, size isn't supposed to be a matter. After all, if I love him... why would I bother about his size? The important thing is his technique &amp; skill [right, &lt;a href="http://nakedthoughts.blogspot.com"&gt;Tiara?&lt;/a&gt; &lt;i&gt;Hee-hee!&lt;/i&gt;]. But if size does matter to you, &lt;a href="http://www.sizehimup.co.uk/flash.php"&gt;this link&lt;/a&gt; could help you before you make a terrible mistake [link taken from one of Tiara's entries, somewhere. I've browsed through her old entries but can't find it. Argh...]&lt;/ol&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3624353-80976510?l=shmily.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3624353/posts/default/80976510'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3624353/posts/default/80976510'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://shmily.blogspot.com/2002_08_25_archive.html#80976510' title=''/><author><name>chrysff</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3624353.post-80953520</id><published>2002-08-31T03:12:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2002-08-31T03:17:15.716-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;center&gt;&lt;a href="http://brian.peace.us/therapy/"&gt;Friday Group Therapy 1.9&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;ol&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;b&gt;Have you ever been "under the knife"? What for and how did it go?&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br&gt;Never. I'm the only one left in the family that has never had a surgery for whatever reason.&lt;p&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;b&gt;Tell us about your earliest recollection of being in pain.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br&gt;The only pain I usually have is on the first day of my period or when I'm having a stomache.&lt;p&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;b&gt;Tell us about the greatest amount of pain that you can recall being in.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br&gt;Everytime I'm in pain, it feels like the greatest pain I've ever been. I don't like being in pain &amp; never will.&lt;p&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;b&gt;Have you ever inflicted pain upon yourself or willingly allowed someone else to hurt you?&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br&gt;The only time I willingly allow someone else to hurt me is when I open my heart to someone. It gives that someone a chance to hurt me later.&lt;p&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;b&gt;What is your greatest fear when it comes to pain?&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br&gt;That I couldn't handle the pain because it's too painful or if the pain stays too long.&lt;p&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;b&gt;Have you ever put yourself in danger of being injured on purpose?&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br&gt;Not on purpose, but I think every minute in our life we're in danger of being hurt, injured or even killed. &lt;p&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;b&gt;How much of a pain threshold do you possess?&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br&gt;Probably on the average level.&lt;/ol&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;font size="1"&gt;Should've posted yesterday if I wasn't so sleepy.&lt;/font&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3624353-80953520?l=shmily.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3624353/posts/default/80953520'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3624353/posts/default/80953520'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://shmily.blogspot.com/2002_08_25_archive.html#80953520' title=''/><author><name>chrysff</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3624353.post-80953354</id><published>2002-08-31T02:57:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2002-08-31T03:18:45.686-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;b&gt;The Tale of Sweet November&lt;/b&gt;&lt;p&gt;I talked to Marc today in msn. He's Jay's brother, the guy that I dated online in November last year. &lt;u&gt;Rewind&lt;/u&gt;: Jay was the first person I saw every morning &amp; the last person I talked to every night, on cam, the whole month. Actually we'd known each other long before that in irc but somehow at one moment we were heartbroken &amp; found each other in msn. I remember the first time we put on our cam, we both couldn't stop smiling. We talked for hours &amp; I fell in love with his smile just like that. It needed just a while for him to fall for me too, but even he never mentioned that, his offline messages &amp; his text-messages to my cellphone were so sweet &amp; beautiful. At the same time I was busy being part of a Christmas celebration here but I always had time to get online whenever he was there. The same thing with him because we even talked when he was in class or many times he would stayed awake until morning just to talk to me. Somehow the 12 hours time-difference didn't stop us from seeing each other. I was so in love. But something too good to be true doesn't last long...&lt;p&gt; I was so happy when he decided to come home in December because finally I could see him. I shouldn't had agreed to that, but I guess it wouldn't had stopped him from coming back anyway. We did meet, but everything was totally different. He wasn't they guy I thought he would be. He wasn't the guy I'd known so sweet &amp; everything. I was expecting too much, but he never called me or anything just like a guy would had done if he knew he was in love with someone. I sent him email, the stupidest thing I would forever regret, asking about us &amp; he said he still couldn't stop thinking about his ex girlfriend &amp; the thing between us wouldn't work. The hurt was too much, I couldn't even shed a tear. &lt;i&gt;So what happened to those wonderful month we had? Bastard, I know you felt it too. You did fall in love with me!&lt;/i&gt; Then I decided not to be bothered even more by that. It's just like one thing passed by in my life. But the other day he came &amp; we spent the whole day together. Gosh, he was so different. He told me to forget what he had said before, it was a mistake &amp; he realized it was wrong. I was like - &lt;i&gt;Thank, God. Just when I have the heart to let him go, he comes back.&lt;/i&gt;  But it was only for a day. The next day he disappeared. I found out later, from him, that he had gone to Jakarta with his family &amp; he didn't even bother to tell me. Second hurt? Even worse than the first one.&lt;p&gt; Anyway, it's just a part of the past now. I don't have hard feeling to him, it's just that I don't talk much with him since then. I've learnt my lesson &amp; it would be a terrible stupidity to jump into his trap again. I didn't put all the blame on him, I know he was confused because he came back to the city where he had left so many wonderful memories with his ex girlfriend &amp; he wasn't ready for that. I was someone who came to him at the wrong time. If only he had told me earlier &amp; didn't change his mind too often, causing me twice in pain, everything would've been different. We would've been friends anyway. I don't know if Marc knew about us &amp; don't plan to ask. This guy, Marc, I've never seen his picture before. I asked Jay once, he didn't have it. Marc didn't have one too, in his computer, but he promised me he would look for a cam so we could see each other. He also asked me today whether I would be here late December to early January &amp; maybe we could go out sometimes - his treat. I said ok. It would be just like two friends going out for a dinner. Of course.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3624353-80953354?l=shmily.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3624353/posts/default/80953354'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3624353/posts/default/80953354'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://shmily.blogspot.com/2002_08_25_archive.html#80953354' title=''/><author><name>chrysff</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3624353.post-80911290</id><published>2002-08-30T03:24:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2002-08-30T03:24:33.160-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I didn't go out with Anthony yesterday. I was home the entire day, downloading some pornholio games. Ok, it's not just "some", they're a lot - 27 files! Omg. "You're crazy, " Anthony burst out laughing when I told him over the phone. I just chuckled. &lt;i&gt;Well, I was bored - had nothing better to do...&lt;/i&gt;&lt;p&gt;I talked to Ed in msn just now. He's still sad. He broke up with his girlfriend 2 days ago &amp; now seems like the girl is seeing his friend - Sandy. Sandy &amp; Ed were in the same class in high school - I knew them 2 years ago - &amp; now they're both in the same college in Malaysia but different classes. Anyway, now he's kinda mad over Sandy. Sandy had told him that the girl &amp; him are just friends but apparently Ed has decided not to speak to any of them anymore. He's still new there &amp; hasn't made many friends so he's been in his room most of the time while they're still on holiday. No wonder he's so frustrated &amp; down.&lt;p&gt;He's been like a little brother to me. He's kind, cute, funny - why wouldn't girls want him? Seeing him sad &amp; hurt like that somehow makes me sad too &amp; helpless for not being able to be there for him. He's always been everybody's little brother since he often hangs out with my friends &amp; I whom are way older than him. &lt;i&gt;Plus&lt;/i&gt;, he's the youngest in the family. That surely explains why he never felt like this before. We had been protecting him against the world or anyone who might've hurt him, until he went to study in Malaysia. &lt;p&gt;Now he's having his first brokenhearted, alone, far away from us... &amp; nothing I could do except keep encouraging him over the msn that everything's going to be alright. It'll be gone soon &amp; one day he'd look back &amp; laught at this moment. But it needs more than words to comfort him. He needs me. He needs someone there to help him getting over it. Why couldn't I be there when he needs me the most? I feel like yelling to that girl: "How could you hurt my little brother??!" I feel so helpless...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3624353-80911290?l=shmily.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3624353/posts/default/80911290'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3624353/posts/default/80911290'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://shmily.blogspot.com/2002_08_25_archive.html#80911290' title=''/><author><name>chrysff</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3624353.post-80869823</id><published>2002-08-29T07:12:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2002-08-29T07:16:34.093-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;center&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.hill-kleerup.org/blog/thursday/archives/002596.html#002596"&gt;Thursday Thumb-Twiddler&lt;/a&gt; - Tholiday Thursday&lt;/center&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;ol&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;img src="http://www.rightmousebutton.com/people2/moviestar.gif" align="right" hspace="5" vspace="2"&gt;You're helping raise money for a charity, and someone pledges a very large contribution if you'll perform, on stage, at the upcoming fund-raising show. There will be about 1,100 people in the audience. Would you be willing to perform? If so, what sort of act would you prefer to do?&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br&gt;If [s]he is real serious about giving a large contribution to the charity if I perform then I will, even if I would be nervous or possibly embarrass myself. That's the risk I'm willing to take. &amp; since it would be a spontaneity thing to do, I would be singing or playing piano.&lt;p&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;b&gt;Have you ever cheated in a game (like a card game) for money?&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br&gt;I never played any game for money &amp; I don't play card games.&lt;p&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;b&gt;If you could go back in time and relive any moment in your life exactly as it happened, what event would you choose to experience again?&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br&gt;If I had the chance to experience any moment in the past, I wouldn't take it because if I experience it again, things might turn out differently &amp; change the present. The past made me what I am today &amp; I've learnt so much from it. So I'll just leave the past in the past &amp; live peacefully in the present.&lt;/ol&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3624353-80869823?l=shmily.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3624353/posts/default/80869823'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3624353/posts/default/80869823'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://shmily.blogspot.com/2002_08_25_archive.html#80869823' title=''/><author><name>chrysff</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3624353.post-80869076</id><published>2002-08-29T06:51:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2002-08-29T07:01:55.803-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;center&gt;&lt;a href="http://amethyst85.blogspot.com/"&gt;Three for Thursday&lt;/a&gt; - Time Travel&lt;/center&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;b&gt;Bonus:&lt;/b&gt; &lt;i&gt;If you could jump in a time machine, what time era and where would you choose?&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br&gt;Probably my parents' childhood. I want to know what they were like when they were kids.&lt;p&gt;&lt;ol&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;b&gt;What are three things you'd like to see when you got there?&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br&gt; My grandparents from my mom's side, life during that time &amp; the people.&lt;p&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;b&gt;What are three things you'd really miss about the present?&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br&gt;My present life, my computer &amp; Anthony.&lt;p&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;b&gt;What are three things you'd want to take with you - as a means to help the people of that time?&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br&gt;Medicines, books [including a journal] &amp; camera.&lt;p&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;b&gt;What are three things you'd want to bring back to the present?&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br&gt;Precious memories, pictures I took &amp; important things to bring back with me.&lt;/ol&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3624353-80869076?l=shmily.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3624353/posts/default/80869076'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3624353/posts/default/80869076'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://shmily.blogspot.com/2002_08_25_archive.html#80869076' title=''/><author><name>chrysff</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3624353.post-80868511</id><published>2002-08-29T06:34:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2002-08-29T06:34:10.943-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;center&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.othersideofglenroad.org/backporch/"&gt;Thursday Threesome&lt;/a&gt;: Double Bubble Bubblegum&lt;/center&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;b&gt;Onesome.&lt;/b&gt; Double - &lt;i&gt;If you could have a clone of yourself, what thing would you most want that clone to do so you don't have to?&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br&gt;I doubt that my clone would do what I wouldn't, since we're alike &amp; supposed to be completely the same. But it'd be nice if she could help my mom with the housework so I could be a lazy fuck all day.&lt;p&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;b&gt;Twosome.&lt;/b&gt; Bubble - &lt;i&gt;Anyone you know live life in a bubble? Who? And do you wish they'd snap back to reality?&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br&gt;No. Nobody wants to live in a bubble anyway because 1) it's not real, &amp; 2) it'll be gone soon just like a bubble supposed to be.&lt;p&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;b&gt;Threesome.&lt;/b&gt; Bubblegum - &lt;i&gt;Willy Wonka talks about chewing gum to be a nasty habit. What's your worst habit? Do you wish you could give it up?&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br&gt;I hate doing housework, except cooking. I don't think I would ever give it up. I hate it, period.&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3624353-80868511?l=shmily.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3624353/posts/default/80868511'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3624353/posts/default/80868511'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://shmily.blogspot.com/2002_08_25_archive.html#80868511' title=''/><author><name>chrysff</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3624353.post-80867715</id><published>2002-08-29T06:10:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2002-08-29T06:22:22.880-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I forgot most part of my bad dream this morning [I slept at 4am] but the one thing I remember that Anthony was really annoying. He couldn't stop arguing me over something &amp; I felt like crying because he hurt me. It's been third times I dreamt bad thing about him. Probably because I was a bit upset with him last night. He called me up at 5pm &amp; asked me the phone number of City Extra since his parents would have dinner there. He also asked me to go out with him for dinner. I wasn't feeling very well as I was terribly dizzy &amp; in fact I didn't feel like going anywhere. But I said fine &amp; he said he'd pick me up at 8pm.&lt;p&gt;When he finally came, I went to shower &amp; changed to a comfortable pair of t-shirt &amp; short. I thought we were just going to buy some food &amp; have dinner at home so I didn't need to dress up. Suddenly he told me that we would go to City Extra because it's his dad's birthday &amp; they had been waiting for us. I got very upset. He should'd told me earlier so I would had bought something for his dad. I really didn't feel like dressing up. My stomach was like a rollercoaster &amp; all I really wanted was just lying down. He completely ruined my mood.&lt;p&gt;I felt like crying. If I didn't go to the dinner, they would be thinking bad about me. But if I did, I wouldn't stand the smell of the food. Just great. So finally we didn't go. We just went to buy some snacks &amp; comics. We didn't talk much. When we went to his house, his family was already there so we just went straight upstairs to his room. I felt bad to his dad. I should'd said something to him, met him at least, but he was in his room. Damn dizziness. Damn my unstable mood. &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3624353-80867715?l=shmily.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3624353/posts/default/80867715'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3624353/posts/default/80867715'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://shmily.blogspot.com/2002_08_25_archive.html#80867715' title=''/><author><name>chrysff</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3624353.post-80860844</id><published>2002-08-29T00:05:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2002-08-29T00:05:09.276-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;i&gt;knock-knock!&lt;/i&gt; &lt;b&gt;Attention, everyone!&lt;/b&gt;&lt;p&gt;Below is my banner made by &lt;a href="http://nakedthoughts.blogspot.com"&gt;Tiara&lt;/a&gt;:&lt;p&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;img src="http://www.gotpoetry.com/poets/chrysant/banner.gif"&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;i&gt;Thank you, Tiara! ^_^&lt;/i&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3624353-80860844?l=shmily.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3624353/posts/default/80860844'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3624353/posts/default/80860844'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://shmily.blogspot.com/2002_08_25_archive.html#80860844' title=''/><author><name>chrysff</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3624353.post-80852334</id><published>2002-08-28T19:51:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2002-08-28T19:57:04.776-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;table border="0" width="210" bgcolor="#333333" style="border:3px dashed #000000" align="center"&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td width="100%" style="filter: DropShadow(Color=#000000, OffX=1, OffY=1)" bgcolor="#000000" height="11"&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.the-stargazer.com/fashion.html" target=_new&gt;&lt;img src="http://www.the-stargazer.com/images/dwom.jpg" alt="What kind of clothes I should be wearing"&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3624353-80852334?l=shmily.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3624353/posts/default/80852334'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3624353/posts/default/80852334'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://shmily.blogspot.com/2002_08_25_archive.html#80852334' title=''/><author><name>chrysff</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3624353.post-80835074</id><published>2002-08-28T12:01:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2002-08-28T12:01:23.930-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;center&gt;&lt;a href="http://whimsy.fortheocean.com/"&gt;Wednesday Whimsy&lt;/a&gt;: Internet&lt;/center&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;ol&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;b&gt;What are some of the domains you admire? Why?&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;a href="http://aloka.diaryland.com"&gt;Loki&lt;/a&gt;: I love her writing &amp; how she describes her life to the readers that make me feel like going through it with her. She's writing her diary like a novel. &lt;a href="http://nakedthoughts.blogspot.com"&gt;Tiara&lt;/a&gt;:  She inspires me, &amp; many others I believe, through her template design &amp; writing. She helped me out in fixing my template &amp; making beautiful banners for me. &lt;a href="http://where-i-fall.diaryland.com"&gt;Neil&lt;/a&gt;: I've been reading his diary daily since early this year. I admire how he's dealing with his life &amp; trying to see the bright side &amp; make the best of it.&lt;p&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;b&gt;How long have you been webdesigning? What is your favorite html/cgi/php/etc. script? If you dont webdesign would you ever want to learn?&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br&gt;Since two years ago when I made my homepage at &lt;a href="http://www.geocities.com"&gt;Geocities&lt;/a&gt; &amp; I'm still learning. Html script? Probably tables.&lt;p&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;b&gt;What graphic programs do you use? Do you get the effect that you want?&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br&gt;I'm currently using Psp 6.0. It's cool but I'm still looking for better program.&lt;p&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;b&gt;Describe a recent dream.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br&gt;I was fighting with aliens last night. There were lots of laser &amp; spaceship &amp; once I flew like Supergirl. It was an exhausting dream, lol.&lt;/ol&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3624353-80835074?l=shmily.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3624353/posts/default/80835074'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3624353/posts/default/80835074'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://shmily.blogspot.com/2002_08_25_archive.html#80835074' title=''/><author><name>chrysff</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3624353.post-80833669</id><published>2002-08-28T11:27:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2002-08-28T11:35:34.010-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;center&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.christyschaos.net/blog/"&gt;HumpDay Hump&lt;/a&gt; - Breakfast Chatter&lt;/center&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;i&gt;Act IV Scene II:&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt; *We are sitting in Atlanta Bread Company &lt;http://www.atlantabreadco.com&gt; having breakfast a bagel/sticky bun/muffin (you choose) talking to pass the time until I have to go and pick up my kidlets from school.* &lt;b&gt;&lt;i&gt;Quiet on the set!! Roll tape..... and....ACTION!!&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;b&gt;ME: Wow leaving my son at preschool is so hard. He bawls. He likes it but hates to leave mommy, you know? My mom and I are like best friends. We had some major fights when I was 13, 14, and 15 which were all my fault but other than that we are like best friends. Are you/were you close to your mom?&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br&gt;You: Yes, we're close. Not that I'd tell her everything, but I let her know what I feel or whom I am seeing. Sometimes I don't need to tell her. She knows.&lt;p&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;b&gt;ME: I am trying to get them to school and pick them up everyday ON TIME! You know how I am always late! Hell, I was voted Most Likely To Be Late among other things in high school! At least I am consistent I always said. But no more! I will be on time!! Are you a late person or a punctual person?&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br&gt;You: Kinda late person actually. Depends on where I am going. I try not to be late for classes or important meetings &amp; if I'm going to be late, I'd call.&lt;p&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;b&gt;ME: You know, I was talking to my best friend the other day about something I realized. It had to do with trust. I don't trust many people for various reasons mostly stemming from my own faults projected onto others. But once I trust someone, I am pretty much an open book. Do you have anyone you trust completely (besides me of course :o) ?&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br&gt;You: Hmm, I trust people easily but I don't tell stuffs about me right away. I need time until I'm ready to share &amp; trust someone completely.&lt;p&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;b&gt;ME: Who is your best friend right now? Do they know they are your best friend? What would you do if suddenly, due to unforseen circumstances, they weren't around tomorrow?&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br&gt;You: Best friends - Jane, Juliana &amp; Olivia. Jane - she knows real personal stuffs about me simply because we share the same case. Juliana - Once we had cold war, but then became closer after that. We had so many fun time together &amp; been through lots of things before she went to Jakarta last year. She's cool. Olivia - There are things I don't tell Olivia because she's not really a listener. Sometimes I just need her to listen, but she would come up with "Oh, you gotta read this. It helps you to get through it" or "You have to do this or that" &amp; that's just the last thing I need. But she's always there when I need her.&lt;p&gt;I don't trust one person completely. I spread stories between them, depends on how well they can understand it. If they weren't there tomorrow, like they have to move somewhere, I would still have Anthony. We've shared stuffs &amp; he loves me the way I am. So I think I'll be fine with him.&lt;p&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;b&gt;ME: Is there anyone you would give your life for if the situation arose? Like "Take me not *fill in the blank with said person's name*!!". &lt;/b&gt;&lt;br&gt;You: Probably my family or people I love. Or it could be anybody, depends on what the heck I'm thinking when it happens. It would be a spontaneity, not something I've planned before.&lt;p&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;b&gt;ME: OOoo! Look at the time! I only have thirty minutes left before I have to bolt! You wanna run into the Dollar Store? I love that place.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br&gt;You: I don't feel like going anywhere right now, so I'll just go home now. &lt;p&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;b&gt;ME: By the way, do you remember Penny Racers? I loved those things.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br&gt;You: Pardon me?&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;i&gt;CUT!!!&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3624353-80833669?l=shmily.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3624353/posts/default/80833669'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3624353/posts/default/80833669'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://shmily.blogspot.com/2002_08_25_archive.html#80833669' title=''/><author><name>chrysff</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3624353.post-80830578</id><published>2002-08-28T10:12:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2002-08-28T10:25:35.053-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;center&gt;&lt;a href="http://hump-day.diaryland.com"&gt;Hump Day 4 [#16]&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;ol&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;b&gt;Do you believe in any spiritually divine being (God, Buddha, etc.)? Why or why not?&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br&gt;I believe in God simply because He is my everything.&lt;p&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;b&gt;Why did you begin keeping an on-line journal/blog?&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br&gt;I began having diary since I was 11 &amp; when I had computer, I saved my diary in it. Once I made a homepage in &lt;a href="http://www.geocities.com"&gt;Geocities&lt;/a&gt; &amp; started writing my journal there. But I found it pretty hard to maintain &amp; quite depressing since I had to upload the whole page each time. So one day I was browsing through some members in &lt;a href="http://www.diaryland.com"&gt;diaryland&lt;/a&gt;, found &lt;a href="http://nakedthoughts.blogspot.com"&gt;Tiara&lt;/a&gt;, loved her layout &amp; became friends with her [long story]. Anyway, she encouraged me to make an online journal &amp; I had been moving here &amp; there &amp; everywhere until finally I'm here.&lt;p&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;b&gt;Do you let people in your real life know about your blog? Why or why not?&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br&gt;Some friends did when I still wrote in Geocities, but then I realized I couldn't write what I really felt &amp; thought. I need privacy &amp; there are personal things I can't share with them.&lt;p&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;b&gt;What subjects will never be discussed in your blog and why? If there aren't any, explain that.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br&gt;I don't think there's any. I just write whatever's on mind &amp; how I go through the day, so it can be many things. Sometimes it's boring for the readers because it's almost the same how I live my day everyday, but it's just how it is. I couldn't make up a story just to amuse people. It's about my life &amp; yes, it is kinda boring.&lt;/ol&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3624353-80830578?l=shmily.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3624353/posts/default/80830578'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3624353/posts/default/80830578'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://shmily.blogspot.com/2002_08_25_archive.html#80830578' title=''/><author><name>chrysff</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3624353.post-80818079</id><published>2002-08-28T03:40:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2002-08-28T03:43:05.230-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;img src="http://www.cinemind.com/atwater/love.gif" align="left" hspace="5" vspace="2"&gt;This rune means &lt;u&gt;love&lt;/u&gt;. I love Anthony - he loves me too &amp; I know that. But it'll be nice if he would tell me that once in a while.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3624353-80818079?l=shmily.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3624353/posts/default/80818079'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3624353/posts/default/80818079'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://shmily.blogspot.com/2002_08_25_archive.html#80818079' title=''/><author><name>chrysff</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3624353.post-80817561</id><published>2002-08-28T03:03:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2002-08-28T03:03:49.700-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;table border="0" width="80%" style="border:2px solid #9F0426" align="center" cellpadding="5"&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td width="100%" style="filter: DropShadow(Color=#000000, OffX=1, OffY=1)" bgcolor="#E2BAB2" height="594"&gt;&lt;p style="margin: 5" align="center"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;font face="Trebuchet MS, Tahoma, Verdana, Arial Narrow" size="2"&gt;Today's Squeeky CLUB JOKE&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;font face="Trebuchet MS, Tahoma, Verdana, Arial Narrow" size="1" color="#9F0426"&gt;BOY : I can't leave you..&lt;br&gt;GIRL : Do you love me so much??&lt;br&gt;BOY : It's not that. You're standing on my foot.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;BOY : May I hold your hand??&lt;br&gt;GIRL : No thanks, it isn't heavy.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;GIRL : Did you miss me while I was away??&lt;br&gt;BOY : Were you away??&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;GIRL : Who was that girl I saw you kissing last night? &lt;br&gt;BOY : What time was it??&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;GIRL : Say you love me! Say you love me! &lt;br&gt;BOY : You love me... &lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;GIRL : If we become engaged, will you give me a ring?&lt;br&gt;BOY : Sure, what's your phone number??&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;GIRL : I think the poorest people are the happiest.. &lt;br&gt;BOY : Then marry me and we'll be the happiest couple.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;GIRL : Do you remember when you proposed to me? I was so overwhelmed, I couldn't speak for an hour.. &lt;br&gt;BOY : Yes Darling, that was the happiest hour of my life..&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;GIRL : Darling, I want to dance like this forever.. &lt;br&gt;BOY : Don't you ever want to improve??&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;BOY : I love you and I could die for you! &lt;br&gt;GIRL : How soon??&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;GIRL1: Have you ever had a hot passionate, burning kiss?? &lt;br&gt;GIRL2: I did once. He'd forgotten to take the cigarette out of his mouth.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;BOY : I'm a photographer. I've been looking for a face like yours! &lt;br&gt;GIRL : I'm a plastic surgeon. I've been looking for a face like yours!!!&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;BOY : Hi! Didn't we go on a date once? Or was it twice? &lt;br&gt;GIRL : Must've been once. I never make the same mistake twice!!!&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;BOY : May I have the pleasure of this dance?&lt;br&gt;GIRL : No, I'd like to have some pleasure too!!!&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;BOY : Will you come out with me this Saturday?&lt;br&gt;GIRL : Sorry! I'm having a headache this weekend!!!&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;BOY : Go on, don't be shy. Ask me out! &lt;br&gt;GIRL : Okay, get out!!!&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;BOY : Shall we go and see a film? &lt;br&gt;GIRL : I've already seen it!!!&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;BOY : Do you think it was fate which brought us together? &lt;br&gt;GIRL : Nah, it was plain bad luck.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3624353-80817561?l=shmily.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3624353/posts/default/80817561'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3624353/posts/default/80817561'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://shmily.blogspot.com/2002_08_25_archive.html#80817561' title=''/><author><name>chrysff</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3624353.post-80807098</id><published>2002-08-27T20:23:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2002-08-27T20:23:58.230-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I have to admit that I'm extremely bored. I feel the need to write but there's nothing to say or talk about. Olivia said she's coming in two hours because she doesn't want to wait for us to pick her up much longer. I wish she wouldn't &amp; we didn't have to go the uni today. I need to have some time alone now, away from friends. Just me &amp; my dear old computer. I want to do some browsing &amp; deep thinking without anyone watching my back. Probably the one I miss the most is - myself. I've been missing "me" since I've been with Anthony. &lt;p&gt;Two days ago when Olivia was here, I was a bit disturbed. I couldn't see my blog after I posted because she was at my back, talking to me &amp; seeing what I was doing on the computer. When I was loading &lt;a href="http://nakedthoughts.blogspot.com"&gt;Tiara&lt;/a&gt;'s page, she asked me, "Whose page?" I just mumbled, "Nobody" &amp; closed the window. So I made a couple entries &amp; posted them via Bloggar without any chance to see how they turned out in my blog. I searched for some images in google &amp; once in a while she would ask, "What is it for? What's that?" &lt;i&gt;Grrrrr.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;p&gt;When Anthony finally came, &lt;i&gt;What took you so long???&lt;/i&gt;, the three of us went to see &lt;a href="http://www.the-scorpion-king.com/"&gt;The Scorpion King&lt;/a&gt;. We met some friends there at the waiting room but I didn't feel like being nice &amp; friendly to anyone, so I just said "Hi" &amp; left. Sometimes I'm rude to people, I know that &amp; they seem to like Olivia better than me. She's good at being friends, I'm not. There are times I want to talk to them &amp; there are times I don't. I just enjoy watching them talking while I'm just being &lt;i&gt;the watcher&lt;/i&gt;. But why they can't understand that sometimes I really need to be alone &amp; not always in the herd. They think I just want to have their attention or something. Well, I don't. When I say "See you next time", I &lt;b&gt;do&lt;/b&gt; mean next time &amp; not later or tomorrow. I thought they understand me, but they don't.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3624353-80807098?l=shmily.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3624353/posts/default/80807098'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3624353/posts/default/80807098'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://shmily.blogspot.com/2002_08_25_archive.html#80807098' title=''/><author><name>chrysff</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3624353.post-80802445</id><published>2002-08-27T18:32:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2002-08-27T19:36:09.550-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I'm bored. I'm waiting for Anthony to come bringing me some &lt;i&gt;lobak&lt;/i&gt;. Yup, I'm crazy about lobak right now, I could almost taste it in my tongue. &lt;i&gt;Slurp!&lt;/i&gt; I wasted some time &lt;a href="http://www.riddler.com"&gt;here&lt;/a&gt;, trying to play online games but apparently each one failed me since I couldn't open even one single game. My browser doesn't support java! Wtf?! So I'm talking with &lt;a href="http://mochi_icecream.blogspot.com"&gt;Pucca&lt;/a&gt; in msn. She just came back &amp; now starts blogging again.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3624353-80802445?l=shmily.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3624353/posts/default/80802445'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3624353/posts/default/80802445'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://shmily.blogspot.com/2002_08_25_archive.html#80802445' title=''/><author><name>chrysff</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3624353.post-80800014</id><published>2002-08-27T17:31:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2002-08-27T18:03:15.896-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Hmm, seems like I blog every two days, the other day I only post collabs. I've been a bit busy with school stuffs here. The new semester has just started &amp; there are things that need to be done during certain time. Argh, my dad keeps reminding me - future, future, future. "Life without struggle is useless." I know all he wants is for me to succeed in life &amp; have a proper future. But I don't want to turn out like him, a man consummed by his job 15/6. I want to be me. I want to be what I've always wanted to be, even if it won't please him. He has high expectations to us, his children, sometimes I feel like he wants me to be a tycoon or something. :|&lt;p&gt;The other day I spent the afternoon with Anthony. He was half-sleeping on the couch while I was destroying my blog's layout on his computer. &lt;a href="http://nakedthoughts.blogspot.com"&gt;Tiara&lt;/a&gt; told me that it would be better if I changed the table width to 100% so it would look good in 1024x768 &amp; also add "margin: 5" to my navigation table. She also made me three banners &amp; we both agreed that the one I put right now is the best one.  I never thought I would be good in doing this &amp; never will. It would be a lot easier if she's here, but I have nobody but Anthony &amp; he's the last person I would ask for help to fix my layout. Well, I hope now everything's better. I haven't talked to her since two days ago. I couldn't get online at night since I usually come home after 11 &amp; Dad has been using it these last two nights to make some report. The only chance I have is in the morning, like now, &amp; Tiara's probably still sleeping since she slept almost 3.30am.&lt;p&gt;I haven't seen my other blogger friends, too. I only talked to Lilian &amp; his brother - Ed. They're fun but right now they look busy, so I would just wait until one of them sends me message. I would be leaving in an hour or so if Anthony comes to pick me up. We're going to the univ. again since Olivia &amp; I still have to complete the registration at the main office of our faculty. Well, I would be here then - if anyone needs me.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3624353-80800014?l=shmily.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3624353/posts/default/80800014'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3624353/posts/default/80800014'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://shmily.blogspot.com/2002_08_25_archive.html#80800014' title=''/><author><name>chrysff</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3624353.post-80770995</id><published>2002-08-27T04:04:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2002-08-27T04:04:29.550-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;center&gt;&lt;a href="http://redalert.barrysworld.net/testzone/blogger.html"&gt;Tuesday Too #27&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;ol&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;b&gt;Are you dreaming now? How do you know you are, or how do you know you're not?&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br&gt;No, I'm completely conscious. I know I'm not dreaming because what I see &amp; touch right now are real.&lt;p&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;b&gt;What's going on that really makes your life a source of wonderment?&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br&gt;Life is a source of wonderment, not just "my life". I see many wonderful things everyday, try to appreciate everything even the smallest &amp; the most simple one, &amp; witness how God works through many hands to help people in need.&lt;p&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;b&gt;Why do you think you're here, and where is "here" anyway?&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br&gt;I'm here because I &lt;i&gt;am&lt;/i&gt; here. I am on Earth, I know there is Heaven &amp; I believe there's life after death. &lt;/ol&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3624353-80770995?l=shmily.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3624353/posts/default/80770995'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3624353/posts/default/80770995'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://shmily.blogspot.com/2002_08_25_archive.html#80770995' title=''/><author><name>chrysff</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3624353.post-80770643</id><published>2002-08-27T03:46:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2002-08-27T03:48:34.220-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;center&gt;&lt;a href=""&gt;Two For Tuesday&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;ol&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;b&gt;Tell us a little about the first car you owned/leased/drove -- i.e. what it was like, what you loved/hated about it, etc.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br&gt;We have three cars &amp; no one drives them except my dad [my brother is married &amp; has moved out].&lt;p&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;b&gt;This is a two part question: first, do you consider yourself a good and/or courteous driver and second, what's one of your biggest pet peeves with other drivers?&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br&gt;I don't drive but I do have pet peeves with people who drive cars on the street. I hate it when they don't care about the road signs &amp; don't use turn signals. &amp; Those public car drivers always make a sudden stop whenever they want. Not only they endanger themselves &amp; their passengers but also other drivers.&lt;/ol&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3624353-80770643?l=shmily.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3624353/posts/default/80770643'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3624353/posts/default/80770643'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://shmily.blogspot.com/2002_08_25_archive.html#80770643' title=''/><author><name>chrysff</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3624353.post-80769840</id><published>2002-08-27T03:00:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2002-08-27T03:03:15.060-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;center&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.ailurophile.com/"&gt;Tuesday This-or-That:&lt;/a&gt; TV Shows edition&lt;/center&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;ol&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;b&gt;Sesame Street or Captain Kangaroo?&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br&gt;Sesame Street, but I prefer The Muppet Show.&lt;p&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;b&gt;Muppet Show or Fraggle Rock?&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br&gt;The Muppet Show.&lt;p&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;b&gt;He-Man or Jem?&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br&gt;Never seen Jem &amp; I don't really like He-Man.&lt;p&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;b&gt;The Smurfs or Muppet Babies?&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br&gt;Muppet Babies. I wouldn't understand, definitely, if I watched The Smurfs since they use too much "smurf" in their conversation.&lt;p&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;b&gt;Archie or Josie &amp; the Pussycats?&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br&gt;Skip.&lt;p&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;b&gt;H.R. Pufnstuf or The Banana Splits?&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br&gt;Skip.&lt;p&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;b&gt;The Partridge Family or The Brady Bunch?&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br&gt;Never seen The Partridge Family. The Brady Bunch was okay.&lt;p&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;b&gt;Happy Days or Welcome Back Kotter?&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br&gt;Skip.&lt;p&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;b&gt;Punky Brewster or Small Wonder?&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br&gt;Small Wonder. I loved watching Vicky &amp; how she kept helping Jamie out of troubles.&lt;p&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;b&gt;The Facts of Life or Silver Spoons?&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br&gt;Skip.&lt;/ol&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;b&gt;Note:&lt;/b&gt; &lt;i&gt;Skip&lt;/i&gt; means I've never seen both movies since I live in Indonesia &amp; in my childhood, there weren't much children movies on t.v. We only had one t.v. station owned by the government &amp; most t.v. shows they played were local programs. Not interesting for kids so we spent more time playing outside than watching t.v.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3624353-80769840?l=shmily.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3624353/posts/default/80769840'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3624353/posts/default/80769840'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://shmily.blogspot.com/2002_08_25_archive.html#80769840' title=''/><author><name>chrysff</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3624353.post-80769466</id><published>2002-08-27T02:36:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2002-08-27T04:18:46.690-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;center&gt;&lt;a href="http://the-onion.net/mm/"&gt;Monday Memories&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;img src="http://www.losttreasures.co.uk/acatalog/freddy.jpg" align="left" hspace="5" vspace="2"&gt;When you were a child, did you have someone, a relative, an old family friend, an older sibling maybe.. who told you scary stories? They might have been ghost stories... they might have been axe murderer hiding in the garden stories...? Who was it, and what were the stories?&lt;p&gt;&lt;/i&gt;Nobody ever told me ghost stories because probably they didn't want me to grow up a coward. But I used to watch horror movies with my brother &amp; the one that I got so terrified had Freddie Kruger in it. Gosh, I could hardly sleep for a few nights after I watched him. I always thought that he could kill me in my sleep so I would stay awake until my eyes became so heavy &amp; I fell asleep.&lt;p&gt;But my grandma of Mom's side used to see things when she was still alive. She could see people who had died &amp; even talked to them. Mom couldn't see, but she could feel if there's something strange. I think that ability runs in the family, but luckily I don't have one &amp; neither does my brother. &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3624353-80769466?l=shmily.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3624353/posts/default/80769466'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3624353/posts/default/80769466'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://shmily.blogspot.com/2002_08_25_archive.html#80769466' title=''/><author><name>chrysff</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3624353.post-80759825</id><published>2002-08-26T20:42:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2002-08-27T02:13:15.203-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I was too sleepy &amp; exhausted to make an entry last night. &amp; I had to get up early today since Anthony's gonna pick me up to the univ. Anyway I try to post my Monday Mission before I go.&lt;p&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.promoguy.net/"&gt;Monday Mission 2.34&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;ol&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;b&gt;What do you do to make things better when you feel sad and/or lonely?&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br&gt;I'm usually with my computer where I can hear some tunes while browsing or talking with some good friends in irc/msn. I never feel completely sad or lonely since the crew is always around the block.&lt;p&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;b&gt;Are you a "touchy-feely" person? That is, do you like to touch people you don't know that well? And on the flipside of that, do you like being touched by someone you aren't close with? &lt;/b&gt;&lt;br&gt;No &amp; I don't like being touched by people I don't know well, especially if I don't like that person.&lt;p&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;b&gt;Do you like to have "me" time, time to yourself to be alone and relax? Or do you prefer to just do your own thing with someone else in the room? When was the last "me" time you got and what did you do?&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br&gt;Sometimes I do want to be alone &amp; relax, to feel my own existence &amp; not always being in a crowd. The last time was a few weeks ago when I was upset with Anthony. I spent all day at home with my computer but it wasn't quite perfect since I hadn't had the sound fixed so I couldn't listen some tunes &amp; it was *argh*.&lt;p&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;b&gt;Generally speaking, how do you feel about the concept of marriage? Are you the marrying type? Do you think the act of getting married means something today or is it simply just "a piece of paper?"&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br&gt;The concept of marriage nowadays has turned into nothing to some people. In the other hand, I am a marrying type. I used to think that I'm a no-marriage kinda attitude person, but I don't want to grow old alone. But realizing that so many marriages have failed recently, it doesn't make me less wanting it. I want to make mine succeed. I want to have a good family, be  good wife &amp; good mother.&lt;p&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;b&gt;That said, as many as 25 states have passed legislation regulating who they believe should be the "marrying type." What are your thoughts on the banning of same-sex marriages?&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br&gt;I'm actually quite an open minded person &amp; I'm not against homosexuality, but in this case I have no comment. Sorry.&lt;p&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;b&gt;If there was one law you had the ability to create or change, what would it be?&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br&gt;Justice for all. Same opportunity in job &amp; government for all races &amp; religions. The quality &amp; personality of a person are the most important.&lt;p&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;b&gt;What would you like someone visiting your Blog for the first time to know about you? Now is your chance!&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br&gt;Don't judge me before you really know me. :P&lt;/ol&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;b&gt;BONUS: &lt;/b&gt;Can you hear them?&lt;br&gt;Yes, I hear Anthony coming. I gotta take my shower now. Oh, he is so going to hang me!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3624353-80759825?l=shmily.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3624353/posts/default/80759825'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3624353/posts/default/80759825'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://shmily.blogspot.com/2002_08_25_archive.html#80759825' title=''/><author><name>chrysff</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3624353.post-80718752</id><published>2002-08-25T23:38:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2002-08-26T16:54:10.893-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Sunday morning, I went to the second service at 8.30am with Mom &amp; Anthony since Dad is still in Jakarta. I kept nodding like a duck during the sermon since it was so boring &amp; I hadn't had enough sleep. Finally it was over after 15 minutes [I had no idea what's the point of it] &amp; suddenly I really wanted to have &lt;i&gt;lobak&lt;/i&gt; for breakfast. I was so wanting it a lot, I felt like drooling. We drove Mom home after the service so she could cook the rice, then we went to buy some lobak at Makmur. Anthony had never tried &lt;i&gt;that&lt;/i&gt; lobak before. He only ate it once at Heng Mien &amp; he said it was tasteless. I told him he had it at the wrong place. So after get in the line with the crowds in front of the little restaurant for 45 minutes, he finally came back, sweating all over, with a plastic bag in his hand [I was waiting in the air-conditioned car *fiuhh* &amp; the heat outside was *ugh*]. Yay, lobak! We had lunch with lobak &amp; it was de-li-cious!!! &lt;i&gt;I'm about to drool again...&lt;/i&gt;&lt;p&gt;So anyway, we went to his house after having lunch at mine, fell asleep for a couple of hours, then went to pick up the crew for Pedz's party.  Olivia couldn't make it, too bad. She wasn't home when we came to her apartment, &lt;i&gt;Now she's sleeping on the couch. She doesn't feel very well, poor girl&lt;/i&gt;, so we picked up the rest: Hanny, Julie, Novel, her sister - Grace, &amp; Lydia &amp; off we went. The party was a typical village one. Loads of food &amp; people &amp; local drinks &amp; loud music. Some children were dancing to the beat in front of the house &amp; some boys, a bit drunk, were gathering at a corner, talking with empty bottles around their feet.&lt;p&gt;I ate a lot &amp; so did everybody. I always love Manadonese food; tasty &amp; very spicy. But I sensed something else. Novel &amp; Pedz weren't like usual. I caught them talking seriously at the front porch &amp; somehow I got the feeling that they were breaking up or something. I told Anthony about it.&lt;p&gt;When we finally said goodbye &amp; thank-you to his parents &amp; family for their hospitality &amp; the great food, Novel hugged him like saying goodbye for good. The others didn't notice that, but I did. I kept thinking about it all night, even after Anthony &amp; I drove all of them home. I had a feeling that she's with someone else now.&lt;p&gt;I was right. Lydia told me that they had broken up even before she came. &lt;i&gt;Why Novel kept saying she wanted to see Pedz? Did they have unfinished business?&lt;/i&gt; The whole story became complete after I talked to Olivia. After Novel broke up with Pedz, she became close with Danny whom Olivia &amp; I have known for ages &amp; now they're together. They met online &amp; started calling each other long before that but when she wasn't with Pedz anymore, they became boyfriend-girlfriend. He even paid for her ticket Jakarta-Manado-Jakarta. Oh well, Pedz could never keep up to her lifestyle in Jakarta anyway. He's just an ordinary country guy &amp; she's so stylish &amp; everything. There isn't enough love to against all odds. One side apparently isn't willing to try... &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3624353-80718752?l=shmily.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3624353/posts/default/80718752'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3624353/posts/default/80718752'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://shmily.blogspot.com/2002_08_25_archive.html#80718752' title=''/><author><name>chrysff</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3624353.post-80712361</id><published>2002-08-25T20:18:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2002-08-25T23:30:31.063-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;center&gt;&lt;a href="http://kelly.moranweb.com/quiz" target="new"&gt;&lt;img src="http://kelly.moranweb.com/quiz/soul/images/downto.gif" border=0 alt="I'm completely down-to-earth!"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;font face="Tahoma" size="1" color="#CC3366"&gt;You are the most in touch with knowledge. It's the tree of life from which you tap the sap. You know what you want and you know how to reasonably get it.&lt;p&gt;&lt;b&gt;VIRTUES:&lt;/b&gt; You respect people with plans. When someone has their head on their shoulders, you know that they can see straightforward and keep their eyes on the mark. When it comes to looking at the future, you take a logical approach: what's within your ability? A fortunate attribute that you have is the ability to set a goal for yourself, higher than maybe you feel possible, but still keep yourself within reasonable bounds. You take the time to appreciate those surrounding you and they do appreciate you in return. Decision-making comes naturally to you when you take the time to consider each option. People only come to talk to you when they are looking for a logical, reasonable solution.&lt;p&gt;&lt;b&gt;ASPIRATIONS:&lt;/b&gt; You have an idea of what you &lt;i&gt;can&lt;/i&gt; do with your life, but you push it up a notch. You need a profession that you can enjoy, so work towards it. You want to live near your friends and family while being as far away as possible. You also want to settle down while working in excitement and variation.&lt;p&gt;&lt;b&gt;QUIRKS:&lt;/b&gt; You don't appreciate drama queens and they don't appreciate you. When they need help, they won't seek you out because of your ability to see through their overly dramatic predicaments. You have leeway for humor, and sometimes love to participate in it, but when it becomes irrational behavior, others can count you out. Loud noises are bothersome, except when they come from you or your friends.&lt;p&gt;&lt;b&gt;FACTORS:&lt;/b&gt; Reach for the sky! Don't decide to do something because you're merely good at it, but choose something you might like to do, despite whether you're sure you can master it or not. Don't only save room for a few empathetic friends, but open up to everyone.&lt;p&gt;&lt;b&gt;FUTURE:&lt;/b&gt; When looking for a job, if you work in all of your talents (logic, decision-making, planning, and definitely humor), you'll find yourself happy. Come to a compromise for location; live nearby your friends and take periodic vacations or live farther away and take frequent return trips.&lt;/font&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3624353-80712361?l=shmily.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3624353/posts/default/80712361'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3624353/posts/default/80712361'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://shmily.blogspot.com/2002_08_25_archive.html#80712361' title=''/><author><name>chrysff</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3624353.post-80709485</id><published>2002-08-25T19:06:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2002-08-25T19:11:29.036-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I missed a few collabs last week but I just gotta do &lt;a href="http://www.christopherpowers.com"&gt;Chris&lt;/a&gt;'s collab. So here it goes:&lt;p&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.christopherpowers.com/oped/"&gt;The Sunday Op-Ed&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;ol&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;b&gt;Blood&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br&gt;The only thing that relates me with my annoying Aunt Sonya [one of Dad's sister]; What do the mosquitoes seek for in me?&lt;p&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;b&gt;Sweat&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br&gt;One of two things that I'm allergic to [besides alcohol].&lt;p&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;b&gt;Tears&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br&gt;"You don't remember me, but I remember you. It was not so long ago you broke my heart in two. ___ on my pillow, pain in my heart - caused by you." - Sha Na Na&lt;/ol&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3624353-80709485?l=shmily.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3624353/posts/default/80709485'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3624353/posts/default/80709485'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://shmily.blogspot.com/2002_08_25_archive.html#80709485' title=''/><author><name>chrysff</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3624353.post-80674967</id><published>2002-08-24T20:08:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2002-08-25T21:59:41.526-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;center&gt;&lt;a href="http://roadsidegurl.tripod.com/sexysaturday.html"&gt;Sexy Saturday&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;i&gt;What is more sexier on a man? Thong's or Boxer's?&lt;/i&gt;&lt;p&gt;I've never seen man in thong, but Anthony has a few boxers. I wouldn't mind seeing him wearing a Thong someday... probably in our honeymoon - bet he's gonna look so sexy - woohoo! lol&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3624353-80674967?l=shmily.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3624353/posts/default/80674967'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3624353/posts/default/80674967'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://shmily.blogspot.com/2002_08_18_archive.html#80674967' title=''/><author><name>chrysff</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3624353.post-80645388</id><published>2002-08-23T22:27:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2002-08-23T22:35:24.070-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;center&gt;&lt;a href="http://saturday8.blogspot.com"&gt;Saturday-8&lt;/a&gt;: "You Come To My Senses"&lt;/center&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;ol&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;b&gt;Your eyes, nose, ears, tongue, skin. Which is &lt;i&gt;the most sensitive part&lt;/i&gt;? Which one is you like &lt;i&gt;the least&lt;/i&gt;? Why? Which one has &lt;i&gt;the best&lt;/i&gt; feature? Describe it or post the picture of that particular part!&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br&gt;The most sensitive parts are my nose &amp; face skin. The least I like probably my cheeks as they look like melons. The best feature, uhm, I don't know. My eyes &amp; lips perhaps since some people say that.&lt;p&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;b&gt;How good is your eye-sight? Do you wear any glasses or contact-lenses? If you do, since when?&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br&gt;My eye-sight is fine. I can read &amp; see well &amp; it's been normal so far. I don't see strange things or even ghosts, thank God.&lt;p&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;b&gt;If you could afford and you have the time to do a plastic surgery, which part of your body you want to "repair"? You have to name one and just don't say that you don't need any. Nobody's perfect - even though we are mostly happy the way we are.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br&gt;I want to have high cheek bones &amp; really flat stomach. Not that I'm fat, but perhaps I have to work out more which I'm lazy to do that.&lt;p&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;b&gt;Do you ALWAYS get what people tell you? Or do you need them to repeat what they are saying often?&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br&gt;Depends on if I was listening to them or if I was busy doing something. Sometimes when someone talked to me, I was thinking about something else that I didn't completely hear what [s]he were saying.&lt;p&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;b&gt;Sensitivity. How sensitive are you? Are your skin is sensitive? How about your feeling? Tell me.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br&gt;I get 1-2 pimples when I have my period, I guess like other girls do, but they're usually small &amp; just gone after my period's over.&lt;p&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;b&gt;How is your skin? And your lips? If you need some lotion for your skin, what the brand you use? And for your lips?&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br&gt;My face skin is a bit oily at the T-zone but my legs &amp; arms are dry. I'm currently using Nivea Body Lotion for my skin. I don't depend on one certain brand since I'm always willing to try any brand that is recommended by my dad [he's a dermatologist professor]. For my dry lips, I put some Nutrimoist Cream on before I go to sleep.&lt;p&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;b&gt;How ticklish are you? Where is the most ticklish part of your body?&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br&gt;I'm not sure if I'm ticklish &amp; I don't have the most ticklish part at my body. It can be anywhere when I feel a bit sensitive over it. Sometimes it's at my back, my neck, my waist, my arm, my head or anywhere else.&lt;p&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;b&gt;List the function of each senses of yours. The out-of-ordinary ones! &lt;i&gt;(We all know that toungue is not always used for tasting flavor, don't we? *wink*)&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;My eyes show exactly what I feel especially when I feel happy or sad &amp; have seen a lot since the day I was born.&lt;br&gt;&lt;li&gt;My feet have travelled so many miles &amp; brought me to places, even where I wasn't supposed to go.&lt;br&gt;&lt;li&gt;My hands are used to touch people that dear to me or push them away when I'm not in a good mood.&lt;br&gt;&lt;li&gt;One part of my brain is used to imagine a lot.&lt;ul&gt;&lt;/ol&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3624353-80645388?l=shmily.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3624353/posts/default/80645388'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3624353/posts/default/80645388'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://shmily.blogspot.com/2002_08_18_archive.html#80645388' title=''/><author><name>chrysff</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3624353.post-80640637</id><published>2002-08-23T20:10:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2002-08-23T20:10:34.950-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I didn't feel like doing my yesterday's collab last night. I was supposed to do &lt;a href="http://brian.peace.us/therapy"&gt;Friday Group Therapy&lt;/a&gt; but the questions were about family &amp; I wasn't in the mood to talk about fa-mi-ly. I'd rather talk about my friends &amp; what a wonderful time I had with them last night.&lt;p&gt;I went out with the crew: Anthony, Danny, Olivia, Lydia, Joanne &amp; Novel - my friend from Jakarta. The last time I saw her was last year &amp; we weren't this close. She worked in a model agency before &amp; used to be a model herself a couple of years ago. She has a different job now, I forgot to ask her what it is. The reason why she's here is that she wants to see Pedz. They've been dating online for more than two months now &amp; this is going to be their first real meeting. The problem now is that we all haven't seen Pedz for a week since the day when his sister got married. He hasn't come from Tomohon &amp; since he doesn't have a phone at home, we have no idea how to reach him &amp; tell him that Novel's here.&lt;p&gt;Poor girl. She looks devastated. She might get a call from her office anytime since she told them that her visit here won't take long, just 2-3 days. We were trying to cheer her up all night. We picked her up at her house at 10pm, drove around the city, went to Girsa internet cafe to pick up Danny then spent some time at the boulevard watching the sea view under the night sky, full with stars, after buying some local snacks. I knew she was trying to look as if she was enjoying her time only with us, but things would be better if Pedz was there with us.&lt;p&gt;Pedz, where are you...?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3624353-80640637?l=shmily.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3624353/posts/default/80640637'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3624353/posts/default/80640637'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://shmily.blogspot.com/2002_08_18_archive.html#80640637' title=''/><author><name>chrysff</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3624353.post-80600187</id><published>2002-08-22T21:25:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2002-08-22T22:24:47.883-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I talked to &lt;a href="http://www.christianpowers.com"&gt;Chris&lt;/a&gt; on msn this morning. Do you know that he writes music? I listened to some of his &lt;a href="http://www.christopherpowers.com/cpmusic.html"&gt;music&lt;/a&gt; &amp; I thought he could make great tunes for commercials. He said he'd probably do that someday.&lt;p&gt;I also talked to &lt;a href="http://danisblog.blogspot.com"&gt;Danielle&lt;/a&gt; for the first time. Yay, one more online friend! She's really nice &amp; she has 5 dogs, 3 cats &amp; 2 turtles at home! Pet lovers unite! Hee-hee.&lt;p&gt; We talked about animals. I told her that a lot of local people here in my hometown eat snakes, bats, monkeys, even dogs &amp; cats! &lt;i&gt;Shame on you, manadonese people...&lt;/i&gt; Okay, I'm half Manadonese, but I don't eat those kind of food. I'm normal. I eat chicken, cow, fish &amp; pork. Anyway, I told her that I have 4 dogs, a monkey &amp; a rabbit. She asked me what kind of monkey I have. I told her it's a Macaca Nigra, a local type that is actually protected (but some crazy people hunt them for their meat &amp; brain). She asked me if my monkey looked like &lt;a href="http://animaldiversity.ummz.umich.edu/media/corel/celebes_ape.jpg"&gt;this&lt;/a&gt;. &lt;i&gt;Yes, Danielle, it's definitely my monkey &amp; it was great talking to you. You're cool. :)&lt;/i&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3624353-80600187?l=shmily.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3624353/posts/default/80600187'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3624353/posts/default/80600187'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://shmily.blogspot.com/2002_08_18_archive.html#80600187' title=''/><author><name>chrysff</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3624353.post-80599025</id><published>2002-08-22T20:54:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2002-08-23T20:02:39.206-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I'm going to do my Thursday collabs right now since I was very busy the other day. A friend of mine came from Jakarta &amp; last night we went out until late. Ok, here they go:&lt;p&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.hill-kleerup.org/blog/thursday/"&gt;The Thursday Thumb-Twiddler:&lt;/a&gt; Thoroughly Thursday&lt;/center&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;ol&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;b&gt;If you were to discover that your closest friend is a heroin dealer, what would you do?&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br&gt;That's a tough decision to make. Either I would talk to that friend to stop doing what [s]he's doing or let him/her do what [s]he thinks is best. I couldn't just stop being friends with him/her, right? But it would be painful to see my friend get into trouble later, end up in the prison or at the rehab.&lt;p&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;b&gt;Having learned to a moral certainty that the world is going to end in six months, what one thing would you do for the first time?&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br&gt;Probably trying to appreciate life even more while I'm still on Earth &amp; being close with God again. I haven't really talked to him lately like I used to back in high school. Well, mostly I did the talking &amp; He did the listening, but I had more time with Him. We used to talk every night or every time I needed someone to talk to. I only had a few friends &amp; I rarely talked to them. So He was like one of my closest friends. I didn't know what had happened since then - we're just not close anymore.&lt;p&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;b&gt;If you could create a memorial to yourself in a city park, what would it be?&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br&gt;It would be a little angel watching over people as an ornament of a fountain. Water will come out of my hands which means that I will give comfort to people who suffers, in grief or pain. What a fantasy :)&lt;/ol&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.othersideofglenroad.org/backporch/"&gt;Thursday Threesome:&lt;/a&gt; Small Spiral Notebook edition&lt;/center&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;b&gt;Onesome.&lt;/b&gt; Small - &lt;i&gt;Is it a small world? In how many miles of space do you live your life?&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br&gt;Generally in my hometown, 15 miles in a circle perhaps. We don't count distance with a mile, we use "km".&lt;p&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;b&gt;Twosome.&lt;/b&gt; Spiral - &lt;i&gt;Ever felt as if you were on a downward spiral? How did you pull out of it?&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br&gt;Yes, don't we all? But I keep reminding myself to always think first before making a big decision over something &amp; ask some closest friends for advices. They're such a big help.&lt;p&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;b&gt;Threesome.&lt;/b&gt; Notebook - &lt;i&gt;Notebooks and pens and crayons and glue...when you think about school supplies, what do you most remember?&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br&gt;Pretty stationery set, fresh notebooks, pencil, drawing book since I used to love drawing &amp; painting.&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3624353-80599025?l=shmily.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3624353/posts/default/80599025'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3624353/posts/default/80599025'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://shmily.blogspot.com/2002_08_18_archive.html#80599025' title=''/><author><name>chrysff</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3624353.post-80552180</id><published>2002-08-21T20:38:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2002-08-22T00:08:34.590-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;center&gt;&lt;a href="http://hump-day.diaryland.com"&gt;Hump Day 4 [#15]&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;ol&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;b&gt;If you could stop aging at any one time and remain that age until death, what age would you pick and why?&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br&gt;Right now. I'm not too old or too young for anything &amp; people have taken more seriously since a year back I still looked a bit "high-school" style.&lt;p&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;b&gt;If there were no adversity could there be any success?&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br&gt;Success comes from our own efforts &amp; a bit of luck. But I guess if we're speaking about the success of a nation, we do need adversity to achieve our goals.&lt;p&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;b&gt;How well could your answer apply to your own life?&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;i&gt;Life is nothing without struggle.&lt;/i&gt; That's what my dad said, &amp; I think the man got a point. Without problems I have to solve or a few things to think about, then life will be boring &amp; flat. I won't feel really good about myself over something if I get everything so easily without struggle.&lt;p&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;b&gt;Why is persistence such a powerful weapon?&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br&gt;Persistence is a powerful weapon if you know when &amp; how to use it without causing bad things to you &amp; everyone else. As long as it's not way over the limit because then it won't be a good thing.&lt;/ol&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3624353-80552180?l=shmily.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3624353/posts/default/80552180'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3624353/posts/default/80552180'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://shmily.blogspot.com/2002_08_18_archive.html#80552180' title=''/><author><name>chrysff</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3624353.post-80534056</id><published>2002-08-21T12:24:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2002-08-21T12:41:42.593-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;center&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.creativedoubt.org/blog/archives/cat_weekly_memes.php"&gt;Weekly Wanderings&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;i&gt;What was the worst job you ever had and what made it so hideous?&lt;/i&gt;&lt;p&gt;I've only had two jobs so far, the first one was that I helped my ex boyfriend at his internet cafe. The job was fun. Besides the unlimited internet facility, I had so many friends there. The worst part of the job was his sister. Since my ex boyfriend studied in another city &amp; just came a couple of times a year, almost a month each time, his mom came to check on us every day - along with his sister. &lt;i&gt;Blah.&lt;/i&gt; I couldn't describe her character but she's not a friendly person. I mean there were times she were, but many times she kept distance with everybody when she felt like she's getting closer to that person. I didn't know what she was afraid of, but she loved bossing around which was really iritating. I guess I couldn't take it anymore when I decided to leave. Not a pleasant first experience.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3624353-80534056?l=shmily.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3624353/posts/default/80534056'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3624353/posts/default/80534056'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://shmily.blogspot.com/2002_08_18_archive.html#80534056' title=''/><author><name>chrysff</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3624353.post-80533046</id><published>2002-08-21T11:58:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2002-08-21T12:08:06.696-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;center&gt;&lt;a href="http://whimsy.fortheocean.com/"&gt;Wednesday Whimsy:&lt;/a&gt; Future&lt;/center&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;ol&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;b&gt;What do you see yourself doing 10 years from now?&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;img src="http://www.thaidev.com/images/mom.gif" align="right" hspace="3" vspace="3"&gt;Obviously a mother with a couple of kids, hopefully working on a small cafe which is always full with people because they love the food &amp; the place - something I've planned since I know after I'm getting married there's no way I can get out of here. But 10 years is still far away, so I just want to have a happy family &amp; doing something that I love.&lt;p&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;b&gt;If you could do anything that you wanted, what would it be?&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br&gt;Travel around the world with my family or the crew without any worries about the finance.&lt;p&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;b&gt;Where in your life do you wish to be a year from now?&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br&gt;I'll be married to Anthony &amp; building up our new family.&lt;p&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;b&gt;Describe a recent dream.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br&gt;I couldn't recall what I was dreaming last night since I slept at 4.30am, dreamless, &amp; was awaken to find that it was already noon. Some other time, perhaps.&lt;/ol&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3624353-80533046?l=shmily.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3624353/posts/default/80533046'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3624353/posts/default/80533046'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://shmily.blogspot.com/2002_08_18_archive.html#80533046' title=''/><author><name>chrysff</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3624353.post-80528818</id><published>2002-08-21T10:11:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2002-08-21T12:44:45.673-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I haven't made entries as much as I usually do over the past few days because frankly I haven't had anything to say. Anyway - I had my sound back two days ago, thanks to Anthony for fixing it up. Now I'm able to listen to the latest tunes I've been downloading from WinMX ever since months ago. Currently I'm listening to Alejandro Sanz featuring The Corrs - The Hardest Day. I love that song a lot.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3624353-80528818?l=shmily.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3624353/posts/default/80528818'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3624353/posts/default/80528818'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://shmily.blogspot.com/2002_08_18_archive.html#80528818' title=''/><author><name>chrysff</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3624353.post-80486315</id><published>2002-08-20T11:56:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2002-08-20T11:59:56.873-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;center&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.ailurophile.com/"&gt;Tuesday This-or-That:&lt;/a&gt; Classic Toys &amp; Games edition&lt;/center&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;ol&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;b&gt;CandyLand or Chutes and Ladders?&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br&gt;Chutes &amp; Ladders, depends on the dice when you have to slide down &amp; when you get the ladder.&lt;p&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;b&gt;Barbie or GI Joe?&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br&gt;Barbie. I have the house, the sport car &amp; some furnitures. Too bad I don't have the doll :(&lt;p&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;b&gt;Play-Doh or Silly Putty?&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br&gt;Play-doh!&lt;p&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;b&gt;Lincoln Logs or Tinkertoys?&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br&gt;Lincoln Logs looks more fun. Too bad I live in a city where the stores don't have it.&lt;p&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;b&gt;The Game of Life or Monopoly?&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br&gt;I don't play them, but people play Monopoly more often.&lt;p&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;b&gt;Etch-a-Sketch or Lite-Brite?&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br&gt;Etch-A-Sketch.&lt;p&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;b&gt;The Slinky: metal or plastic?&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br&gt;The local stores only have plastic slinky so I have no idea what the metal slinky is like since I haven't seen one yet.&lt;p&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;b&gt;Easy-Bake Oven or Sno-Cone Machine?&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br&gt;I never had one of those.&lt;p&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;b&gt;Hot Wheels or Matchbox cars?&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br&gt;I like both as long as it's a Volkswagen.&lt;p&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;b&gt;Spirograph or Paint-by-Numbers?&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br&gt;Never played them.&lt;/ol&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3624353-80486315?l=shmily.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3624353/posts/default/80486315'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3624353/posts/default/80486315'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://shmily.blogspot.com/2002_08_18_archive.html#80486315' title=''/><author><name>chrysff</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3624353.post-80467512</id><published>2002-08-20T01:28:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2002-08-20T01:37:21.990-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;center&gt;&lt;a href=""&gt;Two For Tuesday:&lt;/a&gt; Unforgettable Version&lt;/center&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;ol&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;b&gt;Other than a family member, is there someone (you don't have to name names, of course) that you've never been able to forget? Why him or her?&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br&gt;My nanny, Monica. She was with me since I was a baby until I was 9 years old. I'm not saying that in the age of 9 I still needed a nanny, but she was like my second mother so she often came to my house &amp; stayed for a few days. She got married with a man named Pieter when I was 7. My mom didn't tell me because she was afraid I would cry &amp; ruin the wedding party. Monica really wanted me to be her flower girl, but my mom said it's best that they didn't tell me until I was old enough to understand. She cried, but she couldn't do anything about it. Later Pieter would come over frequently, bringing me chocolate, cookies or just playing with me all day. I soon became very fond of him since he's a very-very nice man, so one day they told me that they're married. I was suprised but I wasn't upset. I thought once she's married, I would never see her again - but I was wrong.&lt;p&gt;As I grew up, their visit became less. I knew they were busy with the children, their work &amp; everything, but we called each other sometimes &amp; they always came on my birthday &amp; christmas. I haven't seen them again since they moved to another city some years ago, but I always remember them as my second family.&lt;p&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;b&gt;What incident -- either one that happened to you personally or something that you witnessed but weren't directly a part of -- have you not been able to truly put behind you? Why not?&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br&gt;No one would ever believe how much I had been through since childhood. When I was 2 years old, a crazy woman broke into our house when my dad wasn't home &amp; there were only me, my mom, my 7 years old brother &amp; our 16 years old maid. We were all terrified &amp; locked ourselves in a room (if only they had invented cell phone). Luckily the crazy woman didn't do anything. She was just sitting in the living room quietly, waiting for my dad. Poor woman. Her husband was one of the local government executives &amp; she used to be normal until one day when she was having another baby in the hospital, her youngest child got killed by a car accident. Since then she became insane. There were times when she acted normal, but when she was "different" she kept saying that she's my dad's girlfriend &amp; he's her dearest doctor. Her husband couldn't do anything about it &amp; he loved her too much to put her away in the mental hospital. So then, my mom called the police &amp; told them to come &amp; take her away nicely.&lt;p&gt;Another incident happened when I was 7-8 years old. Another insane person, a man - &lt;i&gt;my life seemed like surrounding by insanity lol&lt;/i&gt;, stabbed my dad on the chest when he was working in the hospital. That man was one of the doctors' husband &amp; he thought that my dad was having affair with his wife. He used to be very rich in real estate business but then he went bankrupt &amp; became insane. One day his wife transferred a patient to my dad &amp; gave him a letter of recomendation. Her husband thought that it was a love letter, &lt;i&gt;Dork&lt;/i&gt;, so he went to the hospital &amp; stabbed my dad. I thought he was going to die when we went to the hospital &amp; saw him sitting on a wheelchair. Thank God he was okay.&lt;p&gt;Those incidents were traumatic so I always find it terrifying to be near insane people whenever I meet them in the street, which is quite often since my house is near the mental hospital. I wish I could leave this house &amp; find a new place far from the "insanity circle" but I guess we all live in insanity anyways since crimes happen every hour around the world, mostly done by normal people.&lt;/ol&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3624353-80467512?l=shmily.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3624353/posts/default/80467512'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3624353/posts/default/80467512'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://shmily.blogspot.com/2002_08_18_archive.html#80467512' title=''/><author><name>chrysff</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3624353.post-80464924</id><published>2002-08-19T23:29:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2002-08-19T23:43:50.170-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I just talked to &lt;a href="http://nakedthoughts.blogspot.com"&gt;Tiara&lt;/a&gt; &amp; &lt;a href="http://www.christopherpowers.com"&gt;Chris&lt;/a&gt; from &lt;a href="http://www.christopherpowers.com/oped/"&gt;Sunday Op-Ed&lt;/a&gt; in msn. Tiara had taught him some Indonesian earlier since he really suprised me when I joined the conversation. He told me he had something to tell me, then he said "Kamu cantik" which means &lt;i&gt;you're beautiful&lt;/i&gt;. Hee-hee! Nice greetings, Chris! Funny guy... ^_^&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3624353-80464924?l=shmily.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3624353/posts/default/80464924'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3624353/posts/default/80464924'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://shmily.blogspot.com/2002_08_18_archive.html#80464924' title=''/><author><name>chrysff</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3624353.post-80456297</id><published>2002-08-19T19:28:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2002-08-19T19:45:44.570-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;center&gt;&lt;a href="http://the-onion.net/mm/"&gt; Monday Memories:&lt;/a&gt; Camping&lt;/center&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;i&gt;Do you remember the first time you ever went camping? Have you been camping? Caravan then? What's your idea of roughing it? Share with us a memory along these lines, please.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;p&gt;The first time I went camping was in elementary school 6th grade &amp; it was a boyscout &amp; girlscout camping. I had been wanting to go camping with my school mates since I was in 4th grade so when my mom finally let me go, it was like - woohoo!&lt;p&gt;The girlscouts were divided into groups, four members in each with one teacher to watch us. First night there my friends &amp; I tried to cook some instant noodles for dinner, but everything went wrong since we didn't know how to do it. Suddenly my driver came, bringing me some food from my mom. She didn't come along but she just wanted to make sure I was fine &amp; that I had a good dinner for the first night. None of my friends teased me about it since we were all very hungry, so we ate the food together. &lt;i&gt;Thanks, Mom!&lt;/i&gt;&lt;p&gt;The last camping I did was on Mount Mahawu with three friends. It only took us half hour walking until we reached the top. We made a tent there &amp; stayed for a night, &amp; made some great pictures very early in the morning. I would love to go camping again one day, maybe somewhere deep in the forest with the crew. No t.v., no cell phone, no internet; just us, the radio &amp; the nature. &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3624353-80456297?l=shmily.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3624353/posts/default/80456297'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3624353/posts/default/80456297'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://shmily.blogspot.com/2002_08_18_archive.html#80456297' title=''/><author><name>chrysff</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3624353.post-80455724</id><published>2002-08-19T19:12:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2002-08-19T19:14:30.423-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;center&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.promoguy.net/"&gt;Monday Mission 2.33&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;ol&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;b&gt;Many children have blankets, or a favorite nubby stuffed animal that they like to keep near them for security. Do you recall what you had for your "security blanket" as a child? When did you finally give it up? What brought that about?&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br&gt;I don't have the kind of things to make feel secured, but I do have a pillow that I've been using since I was in elementary school. Through years it has become very soft &amp; thin, but still I haven't thought about giving it up someday. Once when I was in high school, my mom changed that pillow with a new one. I was so upset that I didn't talk with her all day. That night after watching some t.v., I went to my room &amp; my dear old pillow was there again.&lt;p&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;b&gt;Now that you are a big kid, what do you have to give you that same sense of security?&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br&gt;It doesn't depend on something, but it depends on someone I'm with to make me feel secured &amp; comfortable.&lt;p&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;b&gt;With a little over four months left in 2002, have you accomplished everything you wanted to for the year? Is there anything that you would like to accomplish before the year is over?&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br&gt;I wish I could finish college this year, but unfortunately I have to wait until the end of next semester due to some circumstances.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;b&gt;What modern convenience, if any, do you think it would be good for children today to do without? What would they gain?&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br&gt;Uhm, video games perhaps? Children in my neighborhood spend too much time playing video games that I hardly see them playing around like I did when I was a kid. &lt;p&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;b&gt;Many of us have one thing in which we believe we excel. What do you do better than most?&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;b&gt;What High School "clique" did you find yourself in? Was it by choice or did it just happen? Did you look down on other groups?&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br&gt;When I was in High School, I was rather quiet so I didn't belong in any "clique". I had a few friends but rarely hanged out with them. Maybe the only place I belonged to was my room "clique". &lt;i&gt;Hee-hee!&lt;/i&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;b&gt;(it begins) I have great news! I won the contest and we now have plane tickets to anywhere in the world. The bad news is we have to pick a place now and leave in the morning. I can't decide where to go, so you get to pick. Where should we go, and what is the first thing we should do when we get there?&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br&gt;Le'ts go to Europe! From there, we can go where ever we want by car or train with only one passport. Aren't we lucky?&lt;/ol&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;b&gt;BONUS:&lt;/b&gt; Must I beg you?&lt;br&gt;Depends on what you want from me. ^_^&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3624353-80455724?l=shmily.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3624353/posts/default/80455724'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3624353/posts/default/80455724'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://shmily.blogspot.com/2002_08_18_archive.html#80455724' title=''/><author><name>chrysff</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3624353.post-80379825</id><published>2002-08-17T21:39:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2002-08-17T21:39:33.153-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Oh bother, Pooh is in &lt;a href="http://www.lamag.com/cover2.htm"&gt;trouble&lt;/a&gt;! Thanks, &lt;a href="http://lifter.blogspot.com"&gt;Thya&lt;/a&gt;, for giving me the information... &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3624353-80379825?l=shmily.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3624353/posts/default/80379825'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3624353/posts/default/80379825'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://shmily.blogspot.com/2002_08_11_archive.html#80379825' title=''/><author><name>chrysff</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3624353.post-80353882</id><published>2002-08-17T02:41:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2002-08-17T02:44:10.186-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;img src="http://www.gotpoetry.com/poets/chrysant/16aug.jpg" align="left" hspace="5" vspace="3"&gt;I slept at 4am this morning. I had a conversation on msn with &lt;a href="http://nakedthoughts.blogspot.com"&gt;Tiara&lt;/a&gt; &amp; &lt;a href="http://upsaid.com/blushed"&gt;Trishkin&lt;/a&gt; &amp; it was the first time I talked to Trish. We were crazy lol! I mean what we were talking about the whole hour, but it was great though. &lt;a href="http://angstrom.diaryland.com"&gt;Thya&lt;/a&gt; was there, too, for a few minutes, but she was so quiet. I guess she didn't feel very well since Tiara told us that she got dizzy earlier.&lt;P&gt;One more thing, I've been thinking the whole day that today is Sunday! Maybe because my dad didn't go to work this morning &amp; I've always thought the only day he didn't go anywhere is on Sundays. But it's not always Sunday, though. In fact he even has work on Sunday. He's used to go to the hospital to check on the patients, nurses &amp; the substitute doctors. I've never known anyone who's so in love with his job like my dad. Sometimes I heard him saying to my mom that he's tired &amp; one night I even heard him coughing inside his practice room. He's 61 now &amp; I have to remind myself everytime that my parents are getting older. He's not the man who used to carry me back to my bed from their bedroom at nights, go with me to school by public car every morning because I wanted so, the man who I used to jump on his back every morning when I was in junior high school so he would carry me until we reached the kitchen because I was still too sleepy to walk.&lt;p&gt;I rarely talk to him the way we did when I was a kid. I think he started losing me when I didn't need him anymore to take me to the book store, school, or anywhere since I had friends or boyfriend to go with. He never told me that he missed me, but many times I can feel that he does. He may not be the best father in the whole world, but to me, he is.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3624353-80353882?l=shmily.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3624353/posts/default/80353882'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3624353/posts/default/80353882'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://shmily.blogspot.com/2002_08_11_archive.html#80353882' title=''/><author><name>chrysff</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3624353.post-80350352</id><published>2002-08-16T23:21:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2002-08-19T08:02:44.863-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;center&gt;&lt;a href="http://christopherpowers.com/oped/"&gt;Sunday Op-Ed&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;ol&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;b&gt;Elementary School.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;i&gt;When was the first time I got a love letter &amp; I thought it was lyric of a song?&lt;/i&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;b&gt;High School.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;i&gt;Where was I in when girls started using makeup &amp; boys finally made sense?&lt;/i&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;b&gt;College.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;i&gt;What is something I should've gotten through a couple years ago so my parents would stop bugging me all day about it?&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/ol&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3624353-80350352?l=shmily.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3624353/posts/default/80350352'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3624353/posts/default/80350352'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://shmily.blogspot.com/2002_08_11_archive.html#80350352' title=''/><author><name>chrysff</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3624353.post-80349009</id><published>2002-08-16T22:32:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2002-08-16T22:32:58.776-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;center&gt;&lt;a href="http://roadsidegurl.tripod.com/sexysaturday.html"&gt;Sexy Saturday&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;i&gt;Are hickies ok or a no-no for you? If you answer a no-no, why?&lt;/i&gt;&lt;p&gt;Hickies? I haven't had hickies for ages, lol. It's ok as long as they're not too much. The problem is when it's on my neck, I would have problem hiding it from people &amp; especially my parents. So I guess, kissing &amp; cuddling would be enough.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3624353-80349009?l=shmily.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3624353/posts/default/80349009'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3624353/posts/default/80349009'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://shmily.blogspot.com/2002_08_11_archive.html#80349009' title=''/><author><name>chrysff</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3624353.post-80348798</id><published>2002-08-16T22:25:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2002-08-16T22:36:23.423-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;center&gt;&lt;a href="http://scruples.phoxxe.com/"&gt;Saturday Scruples&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;ol&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;b&gt;Your boss demands to know what a co-worker is saying behind her back. It's not flattering. Do you say?&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br&gt;I don't think it's wise if I tell the boss. I will just say boss that we're not really close &amp; I'm "too busy" with my work that I don't have time bitching around.&lt;p&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;b&gt;You pick up a lottery ticket for yourself and a friend. Your friend's number is drawn before you can deliver her ticket. Do you switch tickets? &lt;/b&gt;&lt;br&gt;No. I wouldn't want my friend to do that, too, if it happens the other way around. Today is her lucky day, hopefully one day it will be my day.&lt;p&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;b&gt;You've been pounding the pavement looking for work. A company where workers are on strike offers you a job. Do you take it?&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br&gt;Depends on the job they offer. I'm still living with my parents so I don't think I desperately need it. Probably I will wait until they solve the strike problem. I mean there must be a reason why the workers are on strike. I wouldn't work in the company where there are too much problems inside.&lt;/ol&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3624353-80348798?l=shmily.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3624353/posts/default/80348798'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3624353/posts/default/80348798'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://shmily.blogspot.com/2002_08_11_archive.html#80348798' title=''/><author><name>chrysff</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3624353.post-80332057</id><published>2002-08-16T13:13:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2002-08-16T22:00:25.833-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;center&gt;&lt;font size="3"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Happy 57th Birthday, Indonesia!&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;img src="http://www.asiaobserver.com/images/Indonesia-flag-kopi2.gif"&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3624353-80332057?l=shmily.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3624353/posts/default/80332057'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3624353/posts/default/80332057'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://shmily.blogspot.com/2002_08_11_archive.html#80332057' title=''/><author><name>chrysff</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3624353.post-80331218</id><published>2002-08-16T12:50:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2002-08-16T23:27:06.106-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;center&gt;&lt;a href="http://saturday8.blogspot.com"&gt;Saturday-8&lt;/a&gt;:  "Annoyances"&lt;/center&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;ol&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;b&gt;The easiest place to look and find annoyances within one's life is within himself or herself. What, if anything, annoys you most about yourself?&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br&gt;Internet. I'm so addicted to internet &amp; it really annoys my dad because on 20th every month he has to pay the phone bill which always costs more than a million rupiahs. That's a lot for him.&lt;p&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;b&gt;Most people know at least one person who seems to make your skin crawl and hair stand on end at the sound of their voice.  Who is that person for you and why is it that you find them so annoying?&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br&gt;There is one guy I seem to keep meeting him everywhere, even one time when I was at Surabaya with my family - I met him at a mall! Anyway - he's a bit weird. I mean what he talks about doesn't make any sense to me. Or perhaps that's just because I already consider him as one of my pet peeves. Like when we met at an internet cafe here, I was using a computer with some friends. Suddenly he came to me, out of no where, &amp; said, "Hi! What are you doing here? What don't you use a computer for yourself instead?" Duh!&lt;P&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;b&gt;Television can be annoying to. Is there a television show or a movie that seems to be on TV all of the time that you find absolutely intolerable and what bothers you so much about it?&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br&gt;Commercials. They are too many! Especially when I'm watching a show or movie that happens to be everybody's favourite.&lt;P&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;b&gt;I am not a big fan of Top 40/Pop radio and many of the songs are annoying? Name a song that you hate to hear and what do you think about, if anything when you hear it? &lt;/b&gt;&lt;br&gt;So much. "Tell Laura I love her..." That guy sounds like he's dying or something! John Lennon's "Imagine": &lt;i&gt;Imagine there's no heaven... bla bla bla... &amp; no religion too...&lt;/i&gt; Excuse me, I still need God!&lt;br&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;b&gt;Time to pick on the ones we love.  Name three people who are close to you and the things that they do that you cannot stand.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;b&gt;Dad&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br&gt;He's too busy with his work &amp; practice, I only see him 5 hours a day.&lt;li&gt;&lt;b&gt;Mom&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br&gt;She just loves talking. Sometimes it's nice, but it's also pretty annoying when I have many things to do.&lt;li&gt;&lt;b&gt;Anthony&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br&gt;He still smokes &amp; I can't stand it because the smell of it is making me dizzy.&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;b&gt;People have differences of opinion.  Names something that you appreciate and at least one person finds annoying or vice versa? Why do you feel this way?&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br&gt;I don't like cigarette. I already told you why.&lt;P&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;b&gt;Is there anything that at some point that you just did not like and now do enjoy?  If so what is it and what changed you mind?&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br&gt;Soccer. I started to enjoy watching soccer game on t.v. since the World Champion in Korea. I used to think that it's better watching soccer when my friends play, at least I know the players. But not anymore now. It's fun, too, especially when you're watching the game with your friends &amp; you pick your favorite team against them.&lt;P&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;b&gt;For your last question, of all the people and things that annoy you person, if you had to a choice to eliminate one from the world entirely, which one would it be and why do you feel you and every other human being are better off without it?&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br&gt;No more fighting or war because of different race &amp; religion.&lt;/ol&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3624353-80331218?l=shmily.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3624353/posts/default/80331218'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3624353/posts/default/80331218'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://shmily.blogspot.com/2002_08_11_archive.html#80331218' title=''/><author><name>chrysff</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3624353.post-80328478</id><published>2002-08-16T11:37:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2002-08-16T11:41:28.463-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;center&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.livejournal.com/users/fridayfive"&gt;Weekly Wrap Up #3:&lt;/a&gt; Traveling&lt;/center&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;ol&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;b&gt;Do you enjoy traveling? What is it about going on a journey that you enjoy or dislike?&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br&gt;I'm always excited everytime my family &amp; I go traveling. That means new interesting places &amp; meeting new people. Perhaps the one thing I hate about it is just unpacking my bag when we gets home. That's why I don't bring much stuffs because I will have more spaces for things I buy there &amp; it gives me a lot of time to relax while my mom &amp; dad are still busy with their bags.&lt;p&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;b&gt;Are you a frequent traveler? How often do you go on a trip somewhere? Do you usually travel for business, pleasure, or both?&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br&gt;I can't say that I'm a frequent traveler. I only go when my dad has to attend a meeting &amp; my mom can come, too. So I depend on them very much. Sometimes in a year we can travel 2-3 times, or not at all. For my dad, it's always about work, but for my mom &amp; I - pleasure.&lt;p&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;b&gt;Tell us about a trip you have taken within the past few years. Did you have a good time? Why or why not?&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br&gt;The last country I visited is England, 2 years ago. My dad had a conference for 4 days in Liverpool. The first day we arrived in London with other guests from Jakarta, Singapore &amp; other countries, the host took us to Hampton Court. The next day we went to Buckingham Palace &amp; Windsor by bus, saw Big Ben &amp; Kensington, then headed to Birmingham to stay for a night there. When we arrived at Liverpool, it was a lovely &amp; rather quiet city. It's not as busy as London &amp; I learnt that it was where Titanic was made. We also went to the Beatles museum. Did I have a good time there? Hell yeah. I wish I could back there again someday.&lt;p&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;b&gt;What would your dream trip be like? Where would you go, and how would you get there? What would you like to do there?&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br&gt;There are still many lovely countries to go. Maybe one day I would go to &lt;a href="http://www.mykonosgreece.com/"&gt;Mykonos island in Greece&lt;/a&gt; with Anthony, by plane of course - how do you think I would ever get there? What are we going to do there? A lot of sightseeing &amp; some romance, lol.&lt;p&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;b&gt;Tell us about your passport, if you have one. What nationality are you, and how many countries have you been to? If you don't have a passport (and even if you do), what foreign country would you like to visit someday?&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br&gt;I have a new passport now since the old one has expired. I'm Indonesian &amp; I've been to:&lt;br&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;Singapore&lt;br&gt;&lt;li&gt;Malaysia&lt;br&gt;&lt;li&gt;Australia&lt;br&gt;&lt;li&gt;Nederland&lt;br&gt;&lt;li&gt;England&lt;br&gt;&lt;li&gt;Belgia&lt;br&gt;&lt;li&gt;France&lt;br&gt;&lt;li&gt;Germany&lt;br&gt;&lt;li&gt;Spain.&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;/ol&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3624353-80328478?l=shmily.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3624353/posts/default/80328478'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3624353/posts/default/80328478'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://shmily.blogspot.com/2002_08_11_archive.html#80328478' title=''/><author><name>chrysff</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3624353.post-80305424</id><published>2002-08-15T21:26:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2002-08-15T21:39:12.190-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;center&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;font size="3" color="FF0000"&gt;HAPPY BIRTHDAY, DAD!&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;img src="http://www.happydaycards.com/family/bdaycakeanim.gif"&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;font face="Georgia, Trebuchet MS, Book Antiqua, verdana" size="2" color="#0066FF"&gt;Dad, I've grown up with...&lt;br&gt;the Wisdom of your Words,&lt;br&gt;the Cheerfulness of your Laughter,&lt;br&gt;the Strength of your Mind,&lt;br&gt;&amp; the Warmth of your Love...&lt;br&gt;Thank you for all that you've been,&lt;br&gt;you've inspired the Best in me...&lt;p&gt;&lt;font color="#FF6600"&gt;God will always be with you.&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3624353-80305424?l=shmily.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3624353/posts/default/80305424'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3624353/posts/default/80305424'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://shmily.blogspot.com/2002_08_11_archive.html#80305424' title=''/><author><name>chrysff</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3624353.post-80299684</id><published>2002-08-15T18:47:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2002-08-16T00:31:01.170-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>No &lt;a href="http://fridayfive.org/"&gt;Friday Five&lt;/a&gt; this week!&lt;p&gt;That means I have to wait for tomorrow's collabs. Boring - I won't have something to answer today. Take it back: I still have &lt;a href="http://www.creativedoubt.org/blog/archives/cat_weekly_memes.php"&gt;Weekly Wanderings&lt;/a&gt; &amp; &lt;a href="http://ifproject.com/topic.html"&gt;The "If..." Project"&lt;/a&gt; which I'm suppose to finish this August. I've noticed that most of my entries are collabs &amp; seems like I don't write much about my daily life.&lt;p&gt;This week's &lt;a href="http://whimsy.fortheocean.com/"&gt;Wednesday Whimsy&lt;/a&gt; is about sickness &amp; question number 2 is: &lt;b&gt;What was the worst disease you have ever had?&lt;/b&gt; I said never but some fever &amp; flu. &lt;a href="http://mochi_icecream.blogspot.com"&gt;Ellen&lt;/a&gt; said that's one thing I should thank God for.  I do  :=)&lt;p&gt;I forgot to mention that one time when my dad &amp; I went to have our routine blood test at the lab, they found out that there's something wrong with my body. It isn't actually called a disease or sickness. I carried that since the day I was born. You see ... I can't take any medicine that contains vitamin C because it will destroy one of my blood cell (I forgot which one). If I consume vitamin C everyday for a whole week, it will kill me *sigh*. &lt;p&gt;Well, who says vitamins are good for everybody? I wish I were one of that &lt;i&gt;everybody&lt;/i&gt;. There's no cure for that &amp; I have to live with this condition for the rest of my life. Maybe that's why God never gave me any sickness worse than fever &amp; flu. He knows I can't take medicine since most of them contain vitamin C which is [suppose to be] good for our bodies. I don't complain for that; never did. He's been taking care of me since I was baby, what to complain? I don't call it a disease or sickness. I call it "one of His way to show me that He loves me THAT much." ^_^&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3624353-80299684?l=shmily.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3624353/posts/default/80299684'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3624353/posts/default/80299684'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://shmily.blogspot.com/2002_08_11_archive.html#80299684' title=''/><author><name>chrysff</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3624353.post-80285791</id><published>2002-08-15T11:37:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2002-08-15T11:40:43.236-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I know I should've mentioned this earlier. Do you notice my banner? &lt;a href="http://nakedthoughts.blogspot.com"&gt;Tiara&lt;/a&gt; made it for me yesterday. There are three actually, but I chose to put that one. Anyway, she made me links a few days ago which I put two of them at the left side, then she made me three banners. She's so cool. Thank you, T! &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3624353-80285791?l=shmily.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3624353/posts/default/80285791'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3624353/posts/default/80285791'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://shmily.blogspot.com/2002_08_11_archive.html#80285791' title=''/><author><name>chrysff</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3624353.post-80284273</id><published>2002-08-15T10:57:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2002-08-15T10:57:23.700-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;center&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.hill-kleerup.org/blog/thursday/"&gt;Thursday Thumb-Twiddler:&lt;/a&gt; Thick Thursday&lt;/center&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;ol&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;b&gt;How do you react when people sing "Happy Birthday" to you in a restaurant?&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br&gt;If it's a surprise birthday party from my friends &amp; family, that would be great. But if I don't know those people &amp; that's not even my birthday, probably I would ask, "am I on t.v. or something?"&lt;p&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;b&gt;The cashier gives you change for a twenty, even though you paid with a five. Do you keep the extra money, or return it?&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br&gt;I think I will spontaneously say that the change is too much.&lt;p&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;b&gt;What do you think is the best conversation piece in your house?&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br&gt;Any nice &amp; warm family conversation with mom &amp; dad in the bedroom [I've been sleeping with them for 3 years now since the workers haven't finished my room upstairs], mostly about times before they got married or when my brother &amp; I were kids. I love having my mom touch my hair or rub my back while she's talking or telling stories until I fall asleep. Like she says, "You'll always be my baby girl." :)&lt;/ol&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3624353-80284273?l=shmily.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3624353/posts/default/80284273'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3624353/posts/default/80284273'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://shmily.blogspot.com/2002_08_11_archive.html#80284273' title=''/><author><name>chrysff</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3624353.post-80270265</id><published>2002-08-15T03:38:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2002-08-15T03:42:56.283-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;center&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.othersideofglenroad.org/backporch/"&gt;Thursday Threesome:&lt;/a&gt; Relaxing Here, There &amp; Everywhere&lt;/center&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;b&gt;Onesome:&lt;/b&gt; Here - &lt;i&gt;When you are in, where do you hang out? Not your favorite room necessarily, but where you always seem to end up.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br&gt;I spend half of the day in the living room with my computer &amp; the t.v. &lt;p&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;b&gt;Twosome:&lt;/b&gt; There - &lt;i&gt;When you go out somewhere to relax, where do you head off to?&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br&gt;Depends on if I'm alone or with friends. There aren't much place to relax here, so if I'm alone - I would probably go to the book store, the mall or have lunch/dinner alone. If I'm with the crew - no matter where we go, it's always fun&lt;p&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;b&gt;Threesome:&lt;/b&gt; Everywhere - &lt;i&gt;If you could chose, where would you like to be able to go for a week to relax?&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br&gt;Bali, with the crew. I want to play kite or swim at beach with them, hit the cafes &amp; pubs at nights or go sightseeing around the city.&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3624353-80270265?l=shmily.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3624353/posts/default/80270265'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3624353/posts/default/80270265'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://shmily.blogspot.com/2002_08_11_archive.html#80270265' title=''/><author><name>chrysff</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3624353.post-80269962</id><published>2002-08-15T03:18:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2002-08-15T03:20:53.446-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;center&gt;&lt;a href="http://hump-day.diaryland.com"&gt;Hump Day 4 [#14]&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;ol&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;b&gt;What do you think about homosexuality?&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br&gt;I don't have anything against homosexuality. Everyone has the right to live the way they want. But I hope it won't happen in my family, because then I don't know what to say. :]&lt;p&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;b&gt;What is the first thing you think when you see two gay guys or lesbians holding hands?&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br&gt;I live in a city where it's still uncommon to see gay or lesbians holding hands in public. But I guess when I see one, I wouldn't mind. Probably I would just look at them as a regular couple.&lt;p&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;b&gt;Do you think people are "born gay"?&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br&gt;I think it happens at some point in their lives, like what happens in their families, had a sexual abuse in the past or sexual preference since [s]he was a kid. &lt;p&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;b&gt;Would you feel comfortable having a close friend who was gay or lesbian?&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br&gt;I don't have any close gay or lesbian friend. I used to know some gay people, though, when I was still in modelling a couple years ago. They're great &amp; fun to be with, so I wouldn't mind being close friends with some gay or even lesbians someday.&lt;/ol&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3624353-80269962?l=shmily.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3624353/posts/default/80269962'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3624353/posts/default/80269962'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://shmily.blogspot.com/2002_08_11_archive.html#80269962' title=''/><author><name>chrysff</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3624353.post-80256983</id><published>2002-08-14T19:27:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2002-08-14T21:25:02.830-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;center&gt;&lt;a href="http://whimsy.fortheocean.com"&gt;Wednesday Whimsy:&lt;/a&gt; Sickness&lt;/center&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;ol&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;b&gt;If you could cure any disease what would it be and why?&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br&gt;Since everybody would be choosing any kind of cancer, AIDS, diabetes &amp; whatsoever, I would just cure the disease that my dogs had. In 1996 10 of my dogs died due to a contagious disease that made their skin kinda yellow &amp; their stomach filled with fluid. The doctor couldn't do anything &amp; I had to watch my dogs die, one by one, in only a month.&lt;p&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;b&gt;What was the worst disease you have ever had?&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br&gt;None, so far. It's only some fever &amp; bad flu. &lt;i&gt;Thank you, God.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;b&gt;What disease would you never want to get? &lt;/b&gt;&lt;br&gt;Anything that could kill me or people I love, or make us suffer, I think. In any kind &amp; any way.&lt;p&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;b&gt;Describe a recent dream.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br&gt;Last night I dreamt that my friend (she's married &amp; has a 2 mo old baby girl) &amp; I had our wedding together in my house. She was the first one to come out &amp; sit in the living room in front of the guests.&lt;i&gt;I didn't remember seeing her husband.&lt;/i&gt; Anyway, I was at the back of the house with my wedding gown &amp; make up on my face. Suddenly I cried to my mom because I didn't like my hair style &amp; I hated my gown. My mom was about to change my hair when people started leaving the party. &lt;i&gt;How about me?&lt;/i&gt; Then I was awake. Although &lt;a href="http://www.swoon.com/run/DreamDiary/Dream?dreamID=6568"&gt;the meaning&lt;/a&gt; says that it is a symbol of a happy but brief interlude, I wasn't happy in that dream. :(&lt;/ol&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3624353-80256983?l=shmily.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3624353/posts/default/80256983'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3624353/posts/default/80256983'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://shmily.blogspot.com/2002_08_11_archive.html#80256983' title=''/><author><name>chrysff</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3624353.post-80224370</id><published>2002-08-14T01:59:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2002-08-14T01:59:49.813-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;center&gt;&lt;img src="http://www.dispatch.co.za/cards/bored.gif"&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3624353-80224370?l=shmily.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3624353/posts/default/80224370'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3624353/posts/default/80224370'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://shmily.blogspot.com/2002_08_11_archive.html#80224370' title=''/><author><name>chrysff</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3624353.post-80220492</id><published>2002-08-13T23:10:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2002-08-14T08:25:32.580-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;img src="http://www.beacon.org/sp97cat/nyala.gif" align="left" hspace="5" vspace="3"&gt;Tuesday Drama: &lt;b&gt;Point Last Seen&lt;/b&gt;.&lt;p&gt;It is a fantastic story of one woman's personal survival, growth and finding strength within herself. After escaping a young and very violent, sadistic marriage, compounded by the loss of her children who were kidnapped by their father, she goes into the desert to find some peace and refuge. She becomes a tracker at a National Park, searching for lost hikers, children at peril, and in the process finds strength and comfort for herself. Hannah's calm, non self-pitying rendition of her story is powerfuly affecting, for this reader at least and likely many others. Her quiet but powerful use of words, and her comparisons of the methods used in tracking as a metaphor for finding one's own path are uniquely expressed and inspiring.&lt;p&gt;This movie reminds me of the first serious relationship I had when I was in college. I fell in love with this guy who's 3 years older than I &amp; we dated for about 3-4 years. I still wonder until today why it took me that long to finally realize that it wasn't a healthy relationship as I learnt that in time he became a very possessive &amp; quite abussive person. But the only thing I knew was that he loved me too much.&lt;p&gt;Every time we had an argue, he would either punch the walls or his face. Few times while I was trying to hold his hand from punching or kicking something around us, he accidentally hit me. He apologised right away, said that he was sorry &amp; didn't mean to hit me, so I forgave him. But later on he decided to change his target. One day he kicked me on the neck in front of some friends. I was so shocked. They wanted to give him a lesson but I said no, so they just told him to leave the place &amp; stay away from me. One of them came to me &amp; asked, "How long has he been doing this to you?" &lt;i&gt;Never in public&lt;/i&gt;.&lt;p&gt;I thought I would never be free from him. Soon after that incident, we broke up &amp; during the first year he kept calling me everyday, saying that he wanted us to go back together again. He became so nice &amp; sweet that I almost forgot things he had done to me in the past. So we tried a few times, but it didn't work out fine. The feelings weren't there anymore. We finally broke up for good &amp; we started seeing other people. We're good friends &amp; it feels great. He's always there when I need his advice &amp; even though I know he still loves me, we agreed that we're brother &amp; sister now. Some guys are ONLY great as a friend &amp; he's one of them.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3624353-80220492?l=shmily.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3624353/posts/default/80220492'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3624353/posts/default/80220492'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://shmily.blogspot.com/2002_08_11_archive.html#80220492' title=''/><author><name>chrysff</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3624353.post-80180630</id><published>2002-08-13T04:38:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2002-08-13T04:41:51.990-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I stayed home today, doing some browsing in the internet. Anthony hasn't called yet &amp; probably won't for the rest of the day. I'm not trying to call him, though, just don't feel like doing it. Sometimes it's nice being alone like this, the only thing I haven't done for months since there's always someone or a friend with me. Now I can use some free hours to reflect on my life. The major problem is still about "getting married". Am I boring? Sorry, I know I am.&lt;p&gt;&lt;i&gt;Single life, single life, I'm about to lose you.&lt;/i&gt; After the wonderful wedding party &amp; the romantic honeymoon (duh!), here comes the marriage life which is full of responsibilities of cooking, washing, cleaning, doing laundry, emptying the trash can &amp; taking care of the children. There will be no more phone call saying, "Hi sweetheart, how are you?" Instead it will be, "Hi darling, how's the kids?" I'm about to leave the life I've known for more than 20 years &amp; live with a man I've known for only 3 months. That's scarry. I think I know him, but now I wish I never met him in April. Why am I doing this? My friend Olivia is even more ready to get married than I am &amp; she doesn't even have a boyfriend! I said "yes" to Anthony, but now I wish I had never said that. &lt;p&gt;It's amazing how one word can completely change a person's life. I was excited with how the wedding party would be, I forgot that I'm the one who's getting married. I forgot that we were talking about my wedding. Mine. Waiting for my wedding feels like waiting for the time to hang myself. I think it's only about time until I get a heart attack.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3624353-80180630?l=shmily.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3624353/posts/default/80180630'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3624353/posts/default/80180630'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://shmily.blogspot.com/2002_08_11_archive.html#80180630' title=''/><author><name>chrysff</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3624353.post-80179683</id><published>2002-08-13T03:52:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2002-08-13T21:27:51.843-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;center&gt;&lt;a href="http://redalert.barrysworld.net/testzone/blogger.html"&gt;Tuesday Too&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;ol&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;b&gt;What is your favorite freeware program?&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.winmx.com"&gt;WinMX&lt;/a&gt;, since I'm using it to donwload songs.&lt;p&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;b&gt;Do you think the way the internet has changed the world is essentially a good thing? Why or why not?&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br&gt;It's a good thing that we can use internet as customers looking for information, entertainment &amp; opportunities to socialize. But someone says: the world has changed the Internet much more than the Internet has changed the world. People &amp; companies have moved into the business of setting up their own web sites. No one can be quite sure if it is a revolution. So it depends on how we look at it. As long as we use it for a good thing, then it will be good.&lt;p&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;b&gt;Is there something that's really bothering you these days? It might be personal, political, scientific or just downright kinky. What is it?&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br&gt;It's personal stuff. Actually I'm having a getting-married kinda stress, but I've talked about it here hundred times already.  ;)&lt;/ol&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3624353-80179683?l=shmily.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3624353/posts/default/80179683'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3624353/posts/default/80179683'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://shmily.blogspot.com/2002_08_11_archive.html#80179683' title=''/><author><name>chrysff</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3624353.post-80174876</id><published>2002-08-12T23:43:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2002-08-12T23:43:08.123-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;center&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.christine-murphy.net/oldstuph/000973.shtml"&gt;Tuesday This-or-That&lt;/a&gt;: The Children's Book edition&lt;/center&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;ol&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;b&gt;Dr. Seuss characters: the Cat in the Hat or the Grinch?&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.grinched.com"&gt;The Grinch.&lt;/a&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;b&gt;"Anne of Green Gables" or "Little Women"?&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.anne3.com/"&gt;Anne of Green Gables&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;p&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;b&gt;Nancy Drew or the Hardy Boys?&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br&gt;Nancy Drew. But if you read &lt;a href="http://www.amazon.com/exec/obidos/ISBN%3D0684846896/bookloversdenA"&gt;this&lt;/a&gt;, you can have both. ^_^&lt;p&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;b&gt;Winnie the Pooh characters: Tigger or Eeyore?&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;a href="http://disney.go.com/disneyvideos/animatedfilms/tiggermovie/"&gt;Tig-ger&lt;/a&gt;. I know his song!&lt;p&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;b&gt;Which author: Judy Blume or Beverly Cleary?&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.beverlycleary.com/"&gt;Beverly Cleary&lt;/a&gt;. I love her story about Ramona.&lt;p&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;b&gt;Ronald Dahl books: "Charlie &amp; the Chocolate Factory" (Willy Wonka) or "James &amp; the Giant Peach"?&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;a href="http://disney.go.com/disneyvideos/animatedfilms/james"&gt;James &amp; the Giant Peach&lt;/a&gt;. I love the movie.&lt;p&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;b&gt;Harry Potter" or "The Wizard of Oz"?&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.harrypotter.com"&gt;Harry Potter&lt;/a&gt;. You can never guess who the bad guy is until you finish the book.&lt;p&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;b&gt;Curious George or Madeline?&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.houghtonmifflinbooks.com/features/cgsite/"&gt;Curious George&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;p&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;b&gt;"A Wrinkle in Time" or "Little House on the Prairie"?&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.littlehouseonprairie.com/"&gt;Little House on the Prairie&lt;/a&gt;. My favorite movie every Sunday when I was a kid.&lt;p&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;b&gt;Dr. Seuss again: "Horton Hears a Who" or "The Lorax"?&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;a href="http://chemeng.nmsu.edu/lorax.htm"&gt;The Lorax&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;/ol&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3624353-80174876?l=shmily.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3624353/posts/default/80174876'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3624353/posts/default/80174876'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://shmily.blogspot.com/2002_08_11_archive.html#80174876' title=''/><author><name>chrysff</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3624353.post-80172239</id><published>2002-08-12T22:14:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2002-08-12T22:17:08.320-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;center&gt;&lt;a href="http://kellycaldwell.com/archives/cat_two_for_tuesday.html"&gt;Two for Tuesday&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;ol&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;b&gt;Which is your favourite season, and why?&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br&gt;I wish we could have a short winter here so I could make snowman &amp; play skiing. There are only 2 seasons: hot &amp; rain. Both are fine, either doesn't stay too long.&lt;p&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;b&gt;Describe your idea of "perfect" weather conditions.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br&gt;One perfect day: warm morning but not too hot so Anthony &amp; I could walk the dogs at the park then go swimming at the pool or at the beach, then a bit raining in the afternoon so we could have some hot drinks at the front porch, talking about stuffs while enjoying the fresh world around, &amp; a clear night sky full with stars so we could cuddle in the bed while looking out through the window. &lt;i&gt;Let's laugh at me together, HA-HA-HA.&lt;/i&gt; ^_^&lt;/ol&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3624353-80172239?l=shmily.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3624353/posts/default/80172239'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3624353/posts/default/80172239'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://shmily.blogspot.com/2002_08_11_archive.html#80172239' title=''/><author><name>chrysff</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3624353.post-80171756</id><published>2002-08-12T22:00:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2002-08-12T22:00:22.410-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;b&gt;Goede middag!&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br&gt;I found &lt;a href="http://www.hariankomentar.com/histoka001.html"&gt;this article&lt;/a&gt; in one of the local newspapers. It says that &lt;b&gt;Noah's Ark has been found at Mount Ararat&lt;/b&gt;, with the CIA satellite capture of the ark. I've been looking for that picture in the internet since morning, &lt;i&gt;they must've found it somewhere, right?&lt;/i&gt; but still can't find it. The ark's like a very big coffin, half covered with meltdown ice; it doesn't even look like a boat. Well, I'd better start looking again now.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3624353-80171756?l=shmily.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3624353/posts/default/80171756'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3624353/posts/default/80171756'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://shmily.blogspot.com/2002_08_11_archive.html#80171756' title=''/><author><name>chrysff</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3624353.post-80144465</id><published>2002-08-12T10:07:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2002-08-12T10:20:10.390-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;center&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.promoguy.net/"&gt;Monday Mission 2.32&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;ol&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;b&gt;If I could guarantee that the Fashion Police would not lay the smackdown on you, which favorite out-of-style article of clothing do you wish you could wear right now?&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br&gt;I think currently we're having the 60's style. Fashion always comes back anyway.&lt;p&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;b&gt;In your opinion, who is famous but shouldn't be?&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br&gt;Britney Spears. Who else?&lt;p&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;b&gt;Are there any new movies or TV shows that you are forward to this fall?&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br&gt;No fall season here.&lt;p&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;b&gt;If you had a time machine that you could use only one time (there and back), where would you go and what would you do?&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br&gt;I want to go back to the 60's when my mom was about my age. I want to know how life was, what she was like, &amp; see my grandmother.&lt;p&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;b&gt;What cologne of perfume do you like to wear? Which brand do you prefer that your partner wear?&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br&gt;Right now I'm wearing &lt;a href="http://www.colognee.com/m_iceberg_twice.asp"&gt;Iceberg Twice&lt;/a&gt;. I don't suggest any brand of perfume to my boyfriend since I like his natural smell.&lt;p&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;b&gt;Do you recall your first "French kiss?" Tell me about how that felt, and how it came about. Do you like them?&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br&gt;I was in junior high school &amp; seeing this high school guy. One night he came to my house when my parents weren't home &amp; kissed me. Yuck! But I didn't push him away, nor did I respond to his kiss. The next day I broke up with him &amp; he cried in front of my house.&lt;p&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;b&gt;Excluding your partner...If you had the opportunity, who would you most like to French kiss?&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br&gt;Sean Connery. Okay, take it back. How could I ever French kiss someone if I don't have feelings on him? &lt;a href="http://www.ariwibowo.com"&gt;Ari Wibowo!&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/ol&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;b&gt;BONUS:&lt;/b&gt; Can't you see that it's late at night?&lt;br&gt;I know. But I just got home &amp; didn't want to miss Monday Mission.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3624353-80144465?l=shmily.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3624353/posts/default/80144465'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3624353/posts/default/80144465'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://shmily.blogspot.com/2002_08_11_archive.html#80144465' title=''/><author><name>chrysff</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3624353.post-80118772</id><published>2002-08-11T19:07:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2002-08-12T10:49:18.316-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>So in different world, my sex sign is &lt;a href="http://www.quizdiva.com/cancer.html"&gt;Cancer&lt;/a&gt; &amp; I am a &lt;a href="http://www.quizdiva.com/beautyqueen.html"&gt;Beauty Queen&lt;/a&gt;. ^_^&lt;p&gt;Last night after the evening church, we went to have dinner with Aunt Nani at City Extra restaurant which serves the best sea food amongst the other sea food restaurants around. My mom &amp; dad went to pick up Aunt Nani &amp; her friend, Aunt Tutuk (weird name :]), at Ritzy Hotel while Anthony &amp; I went to Fresh Mart supermarket to get some cakes since I was so hungry. Anyway, later while we were driving to City Extra I found (again) a live show on the radio which is hosted by an American guy named J.C. &amp; her woman partner. They're so funny! The question was: "Is it okay to show your affection to your sweetheart in the public?"&lt;p&gt;Some guys called them up &amp; since it was suppose to be in English, they're a bit quiet which was boring during the first half hour until one guy came up almost at the end of the show. His name is Rama. His English is so-so but he's such a talker. He said showing affection in public is only with a hug &amp; a light kiss on the cheek or on the lips. He mentioned one street in Jakarta where people would park there &amp; make out inside the car. I was like HA-HA-HA, so was Anthony. Then J.C. said, he noticed that some guys put rayban on the car windows so nobody can see in. &amp; so he felt like sneaking to one of the cars &amp; going, "Hey, you're doing it wrong! Open up &amp; lemme show you how to do it! Why you put plastic on the window? I can't be snoopy if you do that!"&lt;p&gt;The show was hillarious &amp; everybody couldn't stop laughing, even his partner. I can't wait to hear their show again next Sunday. &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3624353-80118772?l=shmily.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3624353/posts/default/80118772'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3624353/posts/default/80118772'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://shmily.blogspot.com/2002_08_11_archive.html#80118772' title=''/><author><name>chrysff</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3624353.post-80118731</id><published>2002-08-11T19:06:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2002-08-11T19:06:24.273-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;center&gt;&lt;a href="http://lovepucca.net/puccaquiz/"&gt;&lt;img src="http://lovepucca.net/puccaquiz/imgs/garu.gif" border="0" alt="I'm Garu! Who's Your Pucca Character?"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3624353-80118731?l=shmily.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3624353/posts/default/80118731'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3624353/posts/default/80118731'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://shmily.blogspot.com/2002_08_11_archive.html#80118731' title=''/><author><name>chrysff</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3624353.post-80117467</id><published>2002-08-11T18:33:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2002-08-11T18:38:46.730-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;center&gt;&lt;a href="http://goddezzbidches.blogspot.com"&gt;Sunday Stumpers&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;ol&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;b&gt;Which blogger's home do you most want to visit?&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;a href="http://nakedthoughts.blogspot.com"&gt;Nakedthoughts&lt;/a&gt;, &lt;a href="http://lifter.blogspots.com"&gt;Ked&lt;/a&gt; &amp; &lt;a href="http://aloka.diaryland.com"&gt;Loki&lt;/a&gt;'s, since I check on them a few times daily.&lt;p&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;b&gt;What's the weirdest job interview you've ever had?&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br&gt;None. A couple times I worked at an internet cafe &amp; I never had an interview because it belongs to my friend.&lt;p&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;b&gt;What's the one thing that gets you into trouble (the most) in a relationship (of any kind)?&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;Love relationship: Loyalty (used to).&lt;li&gt;Friendship: Having close male friends since some of them I find out later secretly love me.&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;b&gt;What scares you most?&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br&gt;Right now? Getting married.&lt;p&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;b&gt;What are the top 5 traits your mate must possess?&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;Faith in God&lt;li&gt;Honesty&lt;li&gt;Smart&lt;li&gt;TLC&lt;li&gt;Respect/Honor.&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;/ol&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3624353-80117467?l=shmily.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3624353/posts/default/80117467'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3624353/posts/default/80117467'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://shmily.blogspot.com/2002_08_11_archive.html#80117467' title=''/><author><name>chrysff</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3624353.post-80093245</id><published>2002-08-11T00:48:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2002-08-11T09:32:07.436-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>It's another hot boring Sunday. I spent the whole morning answering online questions then talking with Lilian &amp; his brother Ed in msn. It was loud &amp; fun until Ed left the conversation then Lilian &amp; I lost words. So I joined some rings, as you see at the left side of this page, hoping it would give me more online friends. &lt;i&gt;Talk to me! Talk to me!&lt;/i&gt; I know it won't work until I decide to visit some blogs &amp; leave friendly messages there, telling them to give mine a visit, too.&lt;p&gt;Life is so boring. Maybe it's nice that it is so I have much time being lazy all day. I used to love reading novels &amp; psychology books. Now I haven't even finished &lt;a href="http://www.lordoftherings.net"&gt;The Lord of The Rings: The Fellowship of The Ring&lt;/a&gt; novel. The book's got too many history of hobbits &amp; lots of useless conversations. I prefer reading the series of &lt;a href="http://www.harrypotter.com"&gt;Harry Potter&lt;/a&gt; - less talk, full of actions. I'm not pretty much satisfied with the movie, though, since it's so lack of some important characters who are suppose to be there (and sure it would be longer). I wish it was Steven Spielberg who made it. He's so brilliant &amp; his movie is always great (Schindler's List, Jurassic Park, E.T., you name it all).&lt;P&gt;Anyway, Lilian told me about this one t.v. show in Australia called &lt;b&gt;Big Brother&lt;/b&gt;. It's not just in Australia, it's all over Europe, too. They put 12 persons who don't know each other in the same house with cameras everywhere, spying in their daily activities &amp; whatsoever, even in the bathroom! Okay, this is new to me. So I started looking for some captures of the show &amp; found some nude images of - LOL.&lt;p&gt;I have to go the evening church now &amp; I only have 30 minutes left to get ready. Anthony's going to be here any minute now. &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3624353-80093245?l=shmily.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3624353/posts/default/80093245'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3624353/posts/default/80093245'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://shmily.blogspot.com/2002_08_11_archive.html#80093245' title=''/><author><name>chrysff</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3624353.post-80088027</id><published>2002-08-10T21:27:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2002-08-11T00:44:57.586-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;center&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.jodiverse.com/"&gt;Irregular Inanity&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;ol&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;b&gt;You're at a restaurant with a friend, and he is in the restroom when the food arrives. There are french fries on his plate (or something else that you like). Do you take some before he comes back? If so, do you tell him?&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br&gt;I'll take some (fries only) &amp; will tell him when he comes back. I will be caught eating them anyway.&lt;p&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;b&gt;That "I'll have what she's having" line from When Harry Met Sally: Inspired or tired? Sublime or asinine?&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br&gt;Inspiring, but grows to asinine every time since then.&lt;p&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;b&gt;You break it, you buy it? - or - You break it, you run away?&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br&gt;Don't touch anything if you know you might break it.&lt;p&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;b&gt;Which sucks the most: emptying the dishwasher; putting away the groceries; folding the laundry?&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br&gt;Folding laundry, since I hate doing laundry.&lt;p&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;b&gt;Anna Nicole Smith: "I still say the overinflated harlot has a pretty face" or "Face?" &lt;/b&gt;&lt;br&gt;Pretty face, less brain?&lt;p&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;b&gt;You wake up before your "significant other" and see that the dog/cat/baby did his "business" in the middle of the living room floor. Do you sneak back into bed and pretend you didn't see it, knowing that your S.O. will be up in five minutes and thus take care of it?&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br&gt;Sneak back to my room. Hehehe, I am bad :)&lt;p&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;b&gt;Jan or Marcia?&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br&gt;Oh Marcia, Marcia, Marcia.&lt;p&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;b&gt;Cake: Eat with your hands or with a fork? &lt;/b&gt;&lt;br&gt;With a plate and a spoon.&lt;p&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;b&gt;Name one article of clothing that you cannot live without and one you wouldn't be caught dead wearing.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br&gt;I cannot live without my jeans &amp; I wish I would never be caught dead wearing a bikini or in my underwear.&lt;p&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;b&gt;Caffeine: friend or foe?&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br&gt;I don't drink coffee.&lt;p&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;b&gt;Raisin Bran as a snack: Eat whatever comes out of the box, or root around for more raisins?&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br&gt;Root around.&lt;p&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;b&gt;What's the best thing you've ever stolen from work? &lt;/b&gt;&lt;br&gt;Pen or pencil.&lt;/ol&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3624353-80088027?l=shmily.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3624353/posts/default/80088027'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3624353/posts/default/80088027'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://shmily.blogspot.com/2002_08_04_archive.html#80088027' title=''/><author><name>chrysff</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3624353.post-80085273</id><published>2002-08-10T19:59:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2002-08-10T20:19:34.106-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;center&gt;&lt;a href="http://scruples.phoxxe.com/"&gt;Saturday Scruples&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;ol&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;b&gt;In a "must win football game, your coach tells you to target the rival quarterback's recent knee injury. Do you obey?&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br&gt;I can't! How if it happens the other way around? I wouldn't want anyone to attack my injured knee.&lt;p&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;b&gt;Your cool new look gets you nowhere because your best friend looks like trailer trash. Do you avoid being seen with him/her?&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br&gt;No, because she's my best friend. I'll ask her to go with me to a beauty salon where she can find lots of hairstyles &amp; they can give her a new look.&lt;p&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;b&gt;When a young waitress leans forward to wipe tables, you have a magnificent view not meant for you. Do you keep looking?&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br&gt; Why would I stare on her chest? I have those, too.&lt;/ol&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3624353-80085273?l=shmily.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3624353/posts/default/80085273'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3624353/posts/default/80085273'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://shmily.blogspot.com/2002_08_04_archive.html#80085273' title=''/><author><name>chrysff</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3624353.post-80084854</id><published>2002-08-10T19:45:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2002-08-10T19:55:17.390-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;center&gt;&lt;a href="http://roadsidegurl.tripod.com/sexysaturday.html"&gt;Sexy Saturday&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;b&gt;What do you find sexier: a man with tattoo's or without?&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br&gt;Without, please. Once I dated a guy who had lots of tattoo's: one on his chest, two on his back &amp; all over his both arms. One day he added one more with my name on it. I gave up. I hate it!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3624353-80084854?l=shmily.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3624353/posts/default/80084854'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3624353/posts/default/80084854'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://shmily.blogspot.com/2002_08_04_archive.html#80084854' title=''/><author><name>chrysff</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3624353.post-80063198</id><published>2002-08-10T03:58:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2002-08-10T06:23:40.593-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;img src="http://www.livejournal.com/img/mood/charitycam/flowers/stressed.gif" align="right" hspace="3" vspace="3"&gt;I've been cranky today. I was talking with Anthony in ym earlier, we were fine, but suddenly he told me his friend was there. Somehow I got a bit upset as he didn't reply me for a few seconds &amp; I was like talking to a wall. If thoughts could kill, I must've murdered many people by now.So I went to the kitchen to get some cold water, it's good for my boiling brain, talked a while with my mom who happened to be there, then back to my computer when suddenly he called. He said he's going to come, I asked why. I wasn't expecting him to come that soon, not when I wasn't in the mood. I hanged up the phone &amp; went back to my computer. He was there, asking me what went wrong. I said nothing, it's just that I was a bit pissed off &amp; why I fucking cared. Excuse my language, but that's what I said to him. I was being a bit rude, no - too rude, but I was so pissed I felt like throwing something. Luckily I didn't have anything in my hand, just typing nonsense away on the monitor. &lt;p&gt;So he told me they were talking lots since they hadn't seen each other for years. Old flame again... never ending story. She's married &amp; was bringing her kid. I happen to know her, by the way. She is a friend's ex boyfriend's sister. Long story. Anyway, Anthony told her that he's getting married with me next year, on February. Then I became even more pissed. I mean, why did he have to tell her? He could've just said that it would be next year, that's all. &lt;p&gt;It's supposed to be our little secret project. You know, the excitement of waiting the day to come with no one else knows about it except us. Now it's nothing. It's like "I'm going to graduate on February next year &amp; now I'm just living my life until the day comes." He told me she had known already that we're getting married next year. &lt;p&gt;"She knew?" I exploded. "What is it? Some kind of contagious disease spreading all over the country?" &lt;p&gt;Why am I being a rude person to him sometimes? He's just excited about it &amp; wants to tell everybody about the good news. There's nothing wrong with that. Why did I have to complain? Is it because being a Geminian means I have double personalities which either one still sucks? I hate being me today. This wedding stress kinda attitude is turning me into an evil person. &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3624353-80063198?l=shmily.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3624353/posts/default/80063198'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3624353/posts/default/80063198'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://shmily.blogspot.com/2002_08_04_archive.html#80063198' title=''/><author><name>chrysff</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3624353.post-80059968</id><published>2002-08-10T00:09:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2002-08-10T00:26:04.736-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;center&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.livejournal.com/users/fridayfive"&gt;Weekly Wrap Up # 2&lt;/a&gt;: The Wild Outdoors&lt;/center&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;ol&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;b&gt;Do you consider yourself an outdoors person? Why or why not? What do you enjoy/dislike the most about being outside?&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br&gt;Yes, I am. I love doing outdoor stuffs &amp; I happen to hang out with some people who share the same interest with me. Being in the nature is one of the things you can do to enjoy one of God's creations.&lt;p&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;b&gt;What size community do you live in? Do you think that the degree of urbanization influences your enjoyment of the outdoors? Is that influence negative or positive?&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br&gt;I live in Manado, Indonesia, a small city at the northen part of Sulawesi island. During riots at some parts of Indonesia a couple years back, there were lots of people moving here from Ambon &amp; Ternate &amp; even from Jakarta. For some time it bothered me a lot since there were more people in the street, the city was a bit crowded &amp; dirtier.&lt;p&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;b&gt;What is your favorite warm-weather outdoor activity? Why? What is your favorite cold-weather outdoor activity? Why?&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br&gt;Swimming at the pool or going to the beach because it's gonna be fun being in a cool water during a hot day or playing kite at the beach with the crew. If the weather is a bit cold, maybe I would rather stay home &amp; have some hot chocolate &amp; cookies at the front porch.&lt;p&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;b&gt;Have you ever been camping? If so, share a memory. What is your idea of "roughing it"?&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;img src="http://www.boomspeed.com/chrysant/tent.gif" align="right" hspace="3" vspace="3"&gt;I've always loved camping ever since I was a kid. I remember one day when I was 9, my mom &amp; dad made a tent for my brother &amp; I in our backyard &amp; we spent the entire day there reading books &amp; playing. It was really fun. Roughing it? Go camping deep in the wild forest with no electronic stuff at all. We call it "Back to the Nature".&lt;p&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;b&gt;Where is your favorite wilderness and/or natural scenic location? What makes it special for you? How far do you have to travel to reach your favorite spot?&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br&gt;As long as there's a river near by. I don't have any favorite spot to go camping since I'm willing to try any new place suggested. I've been to Mount Mahawu, one of our local mountains, a couple of times &amp; it only took half an hour to reach the top. The view was beautiful. But I love being at the beach as well, as much as at the mountain.&lt;/ol&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3624353-80059968?l=shmily.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3624353/posts/default/80059968'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3624353/posts/default/80059968'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://shmily.blogspot.com/2002_08_04_archive.html#80059968' title=''/><author><name>chrysff</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3624353.post-80056345</id><published>2002-08-09T21:54:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2002-08-10T03:31:35.000-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;center&gt;&lt;a href="http://saturday8.blogspot.com"&gt;Saturday-8&lt;/a&gt;:  "At the Movies"&lt;/center&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;ol&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;b&gt;My life is a stage...and my family is full of drama. Name the movie that best describes your life and your family.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br&gt;None. I've never seen any movie that's even close to my life. Perhaps if one day I decide to make a movie of my life, it's gonna be a whole different kind of movie than you've ever seen in your life.&lt;P&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;b&gt;My life scares me sometimes too! Name the movie that best describes the horror that you face day in and day out.  [this can be AHH scary or SCARY MOVIE funny scary...have fun]&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br&gt;Currently... &lt;a href="http://www.runawaybride.com"&gt;The Runaway Bride&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;P&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;b&gt;What movie have you seen over and over and over and over? Why?&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.yashrajfilms.com/archive/kuch/index.htm"&gt;Kuch Kuch Hota Hai&lt;/a&gt;. It's an Indian movie with a few dancing &amp; singing which kinda boring sometimes, but I like it though. &lt;P&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;b&gt;What movie reminds you of your childhood. How so?&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br&gt;None. Many things have happened in my life since my childhood &amp; if there's any movie that represents my childhood, it would be a combination of everything.&lt;P&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;b&gt;What movie do you recollect as being amongst your first to see?&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.greasemovie.com"&gt;Grease&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;P&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;b&gt;What movie scared the holy smoosh out of you? Does it still scare you?&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;a href="http://archives.obs-us.com/obs/english/films/mx/dusk/top.htm"&gt;From Dusk Till Dawn!&lt;/a&gt; I haven't seen it again, but it did scare the hell outta me.&lt;P&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;b&gt;What are your 3 favorite movies?&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.casalinx.com/"&gt;Casablanca&lt;/a&gt;, &lt;a href="http://www.bacfilms.com/vita/"&gt;Life Is Beautiful&lt;/a&gt;, movie that has little Shirley Temple in it.&lt;P&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;b&gt;What movie could you see yourself as the star/main character? Why?&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.runawaybride.com"&gt;The Runaway Bride&lt;/a&gt; since I'm not the marriage kinda attitude person.&lt;/ol&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;font color="CC0000"&gt;Note before started:&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/font&gt; This is hard, Thya! I thought I was going to kill myself before I even finished :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3624353-80056345?l=shmily.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3624353/posts/default/80056345'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3624353/posts/default/80056345'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://shmily.blogspot.com/2002_08_04_archive.html#80056345' title=''/><author><name>chrysff</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3624353.post-80020002</id><published>2002-08-09T02:00:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2002-08-09T02:42:32.986-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;img src="http://www.gotpoetry.com/poets/chrysant/blob32.gif" align="left" hspace="2"&gt; I'm alive! I'm alive! Thank you, &lt;a href="http://nakedthoughts.blogspot.com"&gt;Tiara&lt;/a&gt;, for the &lt;a href="http://www.zonkboard.com"&gt;Zonkboard!&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3624353-80020002?l=shmily.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3624353/posts/default/80020002'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3624353/posts/default/80020002'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://shmily.blogspot.com/2002_08_04_archive.html#80020002' title=''/><author><name>chrysff</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3624353.post-80015384</id><published>2002-08-08T22:44:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2002-08-09T01:33:08.670-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;center&gt;&lt;a href=http://smattering.org/"&gt;Friday Five&lt;/a&gt;: Driving&lt;/center&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;ol&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;b&gt;Do you have a car? If so, what kind of car is it?&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br&gt;Yes, we have 2 Jeeps &amp; 4 VWs: 2 Beetles, a Combi &amp; a Safari. &lt;p&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;b&gt;Do you drive very often?&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br&gt;Too bad I don't drive.&lt;p&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;b&gt;What's your dream car?&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br&gt;Combination of Batman's &amp; James Bond's car with extra abilities of a plane &amp; a submarine.&lt;p&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;b&gt;Have you ever received a ticket?&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br&gt;Obviously never.&lt;p&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;b&gt;Have you ever been in accident?&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br&gt;I've had 5 car accidents &amp; once with a motorcycle; I don't even know how to ride a bicycle.&lt;/ol&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3624353-80015384?l=shmily.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3624353/posts/default/80015384'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3624353/posts/default/80015384'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://shmily.blogspot.com/2002_08_04_archive.html#80015384' title=''/><author><name>chrysff</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3624353.post-80013602</id><published>2002-08-08T21:50:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2002-08-10T03:12:09.000-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Last night I went to Stanley's wedding party with some friends I'm used to chat with in IRC. We had a good time there since it's the party of one of our best buddies. He's 30 years old this year &amp; I think it's about time for him to settle down &amp; have a family. We were so happy for him. He's married to a woman named Eveline &amp; she seems a very nice person. I met her once at a restaurant when I was having dinner with the crew, but she looked a bit different now with all those make-up, accesories &amp; the wedding gown she was wearing. I watched them as they were walking along the red carpet to the front of the room. Before them there were boys &amp; girls in couples throwing flowers on the floor. It was like letting him go to a brand new life where I'm no longer a part of it. He's always been a big brother to me &amp; now I'm losing him.&lt;P&gt;Olivia came with Enrico &amp; two other friends, Iman &amp; Jab. She was wearing all black &amp; surprisingly Enrico was, too. I knew she would really love talking with him or being with him even for a while, but seemed like he was avoiding her. &lt;i&gt;Plus&lt;/i&gt;, I met my ex's mom &amp; little sister there. I don't remember whether Stanley's mom is my ex's godmother or his mom is Stanley's godmother. But they were there &amp; I could hardly breathe. His sister was still a bit arrogant as usual. Well, I've never really liked her anyway &amp; now that I already broke up with his brother, there's nothing for me to worry about. No more pressure of having to get along with her. What a relief.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3624353-80013602?l=shmily.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3624353/posts/default/80013602'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3624353/posts/default/80013602'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://shmily.blogspot.com/2002_08_04_archive.html#80013602' title=''/><author><name>chrysff</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3624353.post-80010940</id><published>2002-08-08T20:39:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2002-08-08T21:11:56.276-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;center&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.hill-kleerup.org/blog/thursday/"&gt;Thursday Thumb-Twiddler&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;ol&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;b&gt;You are a state legislator. An industry group offers you a sizable, but legal, political donation, "no strings attached," while you have a bill they favor up before you. Do you accept the donation, or reject it?&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br&gt;Reject it right away! politely, of course.&lt;p&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;b&gt;While reading a new book by a famous scholar, whose previous work you've very much admired, you come across multiple passages that seem familiar. You do some digging around and find where the scholar has lifted, almost verbatim and without credit, all those passages from an obscure work by another author. What, if anything, do you do?&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br&gt;I think I'll send an email or letter to the publisher &amp; inform them about it. But honestly, I would be like, "Hey, he's taking someone's words?!"... &amp; that's all. ^_^ &lt;p&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;b&gt;If you were to be forced to have the same thing for dinner every night for a month, what would you choose?&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br&gt;I haven't had my dinner these past few weeks due to my "night dizziness" so I won't mind the same thing for dinner every night for another month, at all! :)&lt;/ol&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3624353-80010940?l=shmily.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3624353/posts/default/80010940'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3624353/posts/default/80010940'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://shmily.blogspot.com/2002_08_04_archive.html#80010940' title=''/><author><name>chrysff</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3624353.post-80009983</id><published>2002-08-08T20:16:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2002-08-08T21:03:45.250-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;img src="http://www.gotpoetry.com/poets/chrysant/toilet.gif" align="left" hspace="3" vspace="3"&gt;and the nature call&lt;br&gt;is the love that we give&lt;br&gt;to the toilet zone.&lt;p&gt;lovingly written, with "love", by &lt;a href="http://nakedthoughts.blogspot.com"&gt;Tiara&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3624353-80009983?l=shmily.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3624353/posts/default/80009983'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3624353/posts/default/80009983'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://shmily.blogspot.com/2002_08_04_archive.html#80009983' title=''/><author><name>chrysff</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3624353.post-79976776</id><published>2002-08-08T03:53:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2002-08-08T21:37:56.120-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;img src="http://www.gotpoetry.com/poets/chrysant/snake.jpg" align="left" hspace="5" vspace="3"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Chinese Year of the Snake.&lt;/b&gt; &lt;font color="FF6600"&gt;Snake people are usually deep thinkers. They have good instincts and are capable of giving wise advice. Snakes have high standards in personal and business relationships. They will not forgive any kind of betrayal, and will hold a grudge for a long time. Their emotions may be quiet, but are usually quite intense. Snake people often seem mysterious, as they are careful about what they say and do not always reveal their thoughts and feelings. Whether or not they are physically beautiful, most Snakes have a special aura that is very attractive to others. They can be possessive and demanding in relationships, but are also willing to indulge their loved ones with special luxuries. Even so, they often tend to be stingy with money. The Snake will do well in a career that requires complex thinking and planning.&lt;/font&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;hr width="50%" align="center" noshade&gt;&lt;p&gt;I AM a deep thinker. I think a lot. I even think what I'm not suppose to think or sometimes it's so useless I come up with no idea why I even bother. Good instinct? Yes, sometimes. Especially when I feel like my boyfriend cheating on me, he usually is. &amp; I do give wise advices to people, just that I don't always do wise advice they give me. &lt;p&gt;I have high standards in life, in fact in EVERYTHING even for myself *sigh*. &amp; yes, I don't forgive betrayal easily. I end up leaving him &amp; later on he wants to get back with me which I find really pathetic. My emotions are rather quiet, especially when I feel hurt and brokenhearted. I'd rather not talk about it with anyone.&lt;p&gt;Sometimes people see me as mysterious, arrogant, not easily getting along with new people. But I will feel comfortable when I have spent enough time with the person to find that [s]he is actually fun to talk with.&lt;p&gt;I'm attractive &amp; beautiful for some people, but so-so for myself. Sometimes I would stand in front of a mirror &amp; look at myself closely. I wish I had the beauty of Dian Sastro, the youth of Wynona Ryder, the ability to dance of Julia Stiles, the charisma of Madonna &amp; the voice of Alicia Keys. But I think I have the aura.&lt;p&gt; I am possessive. I get jealous easily &amp; am pretty demanding for equal love &amp; attention from my boyfriend, as much as I give him, which I think is quite annoying.&lt;p&gt;It's not easy being with me, or even being ME...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3624353-79976776?l=shmily.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3624353/posts/default/79976776'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3624353/posts/default/79976776'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://shmily.blogspot.com/2002_08_04_archive.html#79976776' title=''/><author><name>chrysff</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3624353.post-79975212</id><published>2002-08-08T02:13:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2002-08-08T02:17:50.160-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;center&gt;&lt;a href="http://aloka.notifylist.com/humpday4-archive"&gt;Hump Day 4&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;ol&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;b&gt;What is your passion in life?&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br&gt;Living life to the fullest.&lt;p&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;b&gt;What would you do for your passion?&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br&gt;Share love &amp; happiness with others. Try to see everything from its bright side so I wouldn't feel too devastated when something doesn't meet my expectations.&lt;p&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;b&gt;Has anyone ever challenged your pursuit of this passion?&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br&gt;I don't think anyone would ever want to do that to me, because they're too busy living their own lives.&lt;p&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;b&gt;Does your passion tie in to the grand scheme of your life?&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br&gt;Not really. My life flows like the river of Nile.&lt;/ol&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3624353-79975212?l=shmily.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3624353/posts/default/79975212'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3624353/posts/default/79975212'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://shmily.blogspot.com/2002_08_04_archive.html#79975212' title=''/><author><name>chrysff</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3624353.post-79967576</id><published>2002-08-07T21:22:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2002-08-07T22:39:28.706-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;b&gt;I am 10% Geek&lt;/b&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;img src="http://www.fuali.com/pix/103/1.gif" border="0" alt="I wanna be a geek. But I'm not. Why would I even want to be one. Do I think it's fun? I should try writting an online test application at 1 am in my underwear"&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.fuali.com/test.aspx?id=103" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;b&gt;take the Geek Test&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3624353-79967576?l=shmily.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3624353/posts/default/79967576'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3624353/posts/default/79967576'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://shmily.blogspot.com/2002_08_04_archive.html#79967576' title=''/><author><name>chrysff</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3624353.post-79963735</id><published>2002-08-07T19:45:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2002-08-07T20:23:20.346-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;img src="http://www.gotpoetry.com/poets/chrysant/Nature.gif" align="left" hspace="5" vspace=3"&gt;The love of nature&lt;br&gt;is the love that we can give&lt;br&gt;to the animals.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3624353-79963735?l=shmily.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3624353/posts/default/79963735'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3624353/posts/default/79963735'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://shmily.blogspot.com/2002_08_04_archive.html#79963735' title=''/><author><name>chrysff</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3624353.post-79946173</id><published>2002-08-07T11:26:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2002-08-07T21:01:08.513-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I was being a lazy fuck during the day. I checked Tiara's blog &amp; some other diaries I read frequently too many times like I would miss something that had happened in their lives. So I was checking on Loki's when Olivia came by. She told me she spent the night with some friends last night at Enrico's place &amp; they had a really good time there. I thought she was trying to get over him, but apparently she doesnt' want to stay away from that guy even for just a while until her heart heals. She loves being around him even though she knows there's no chance they will be together. &lt;p&gt;An hour later Anthony picked us up then we went to Sunset Cafe. It was a bit windy so we sat inside the cafe &amp; ordered some drinks. We could hardly see the sunset as the clouds were on full volume, but I had a view of a bunch of young girls, busy as bees, talking aloud about school stuffs. That reminds me of my own school days. I enjoyed hanging out with my friends &amp; we were loud, too. How long has it been? 5 - 6 years?&lt;p&gt;So anyway, our first conversation was about backpackers in Australia who travels around the world on budget with no luxury things. There are loads of backpackers accomodation there and they stay in some kind of hostel with 1-3 other people in one room.&lt;p&gt;Then he told us about celebrities &amp; politicians who were used to have affairs in one of the 5 stars hotels in Jakarta. The name of the hotel sounded familiar to me, like I had read about it somewhere. I was wondering the whole time why he knew so much about it, until then I realised his ex girlfriend works there. Of course. I began to get upset &amp; just wanted him to stop talking about it.&lt;p&gt;Ugh, I sound like my ex now. No, I've become him! I shouldn't be jealous about it, it's a part of his past anyway. Maybe I just can't stand not being a part of Anthony's past &amp; that I've missed so much, but I'm his present &amp; future. I shall not complain...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3624353-79946173?l=shmily.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3624353/posts/default/79946173'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3624353/posts/default/79946173'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://shmily.blogspot.com/2002_08_04_archive.html#79946173' title=''/><author><name>chrysff</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3624353.post-79945627</id><published>2002-08-07T11:13:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2002-08-07T11:24:35.060-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;center&gt;&lt;a href="http://whimsy.fortheocean.com/"&gt;Wednesday Whimsy&lt;/a&gt;: Animals&lt;/center&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;ol&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;b&gt;If you could be any animal on earth what would you be? Why?&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br&gt;I would be an eagle so I could fly as high as the mountain, eyes that could see even the smallest object on the ground, strong wings to fight against the wind, but I would only eat fruits because I don't have the heart to hunt for rabbits or other small animals.&lt;p&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;b&gt;If you could design the perfect animal what would it look like? How would it eat? How would it breath? What would you call it?&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br&gt;Hmm, lemme see. The animal should have wings to fly, legs to run around, would be able to swim, but still cute to look at since I think it would be a bit weird having all those things. It would sing like a bird in the morning, play with me like a dog &amp; would be nice to hold like a stuffed animal.&lt;p&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;b&gt;What, if any, animal would you like to demesticate and keep in your home?&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br&gt;I've always wanted to keep a lion or grizzly. I don't really like cat, so lion is just a bigger version of cat &amp; grizzly seems such a lazy and adorable yet tough creature.&lt;p&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;b&gt;Describe a recent dream.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br&gt;I can't seem to remember my dream last night, but there were Anthony, his ex girlfriend &amp; some people. I think I wasn't happy in that dream because when I woke up this morning, I was still upset with him. :=)&lt;/ol&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3624353-79945627?l=shmily.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3624353/posts/default/79945627'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3624353/posts/default/79945627'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://shmily.blogspot.com/2002_08_04_archive.html#79945627' title=''/><author><name>chrysff</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3624353.post-79925162</id><published>2002-08-06T22:50:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2002-08-07T00:49:32.166-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;b&gt;Globalization!&lt;/b&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;b&gt;What is the height of globalization?&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br&gt;Princess Diana's death.&lt;p&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;b&gt;How come?&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br&gt;An English princess with an Egyptian boyfriend crashes in a French tunnel, driving a German car with a Dutch engine, driven by a Belgian who was high on Scottish whiskey, followed closely by Italian Paparazzi on Japanese motorcycles, treated by an American doctor using Brazilian medicines! &lt;br&gt;And this e-mail is sent to you by a Malaysian, using Bill Gates's technology which he stole from the Japanese. And you are probably reading this on one of the IBM clones that use Taiwanese-made chips and Korean made monitors, assembled by Bangladeshi workers in a Singapore plant, transported by lorries driven by Indians, hijacked by Indonesians and finally sold to you by Chinamen!&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;font color="0000CC"&gt;Globalization!!!&lt;/font&gt;&lt;p&gt;forwarded by my friend Lilian (Sydney, AUS).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3624353-79925162?l=shmily.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3624353/posts/default/79925162'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3624353/posts/default/79925162'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://shmily.blogspot.com/2002_08_04_archive.html#79925162' title=''/><author><name>chrysff</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3624353.post-79919154</id><published>2002-08-06T20:02:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2002-08-06T20:11:47.926-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;center&gt;&lt;a href="http://redalert.barrysworld.net/testzone/blogger.html"&gt;Tuesday Too&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;ol&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;b&gt;Is honesty always the best policy? Relate a plausible scenario where this might not be the case.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br&gt;Believe me, honesty is important. When you start one lie, a white lie for instance, to please someone, there will be more lies &amp; that won't make you feel any better because that means you lie to two persons: you &amp; the person you're telling it, then later you will feel guilty to yourself because you know you're lying &amp; you know that's not good.&lt;p&gt;Once I had a relationship with a guy &amp; he just couldn't take honesty very well. I mean, he wanted me to be honest with him &amp; when I told him the truth, he just couldn't take it. So I started lying to him &amp; it didn't make me feel good about myself &amp; to our relationship. I was like hiding too many things from him &amp; always scared that he would find it out someday. We finally broke up because I didn't feel comfortable about it &amp; couldn't stand the guilty feeling anymore.&lt;p&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;b&gt;Are you someone of who can't say no? If you're not, tell those of us who are, how to overcome the yes syndrome.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br&gt;Sometimes it's very hard for me to say "no", but I learn to choose when to say "yes" &amp; when to say "no" if anyone comes &amp; asks me for a favor. When I say "yes", I always try to do the best I can &amp; only when I'm capable to do it. I can't force myself to do everything people ask me just to please them because then it won't be a good thing to do. To overcome the yes syndrome, simply say "no, i'm sorry." That means you're being true to yourself &amp; others.&lt;p&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;b&gt;What's your remedy for sleepless nights?&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br&gt;I spend 60% of my day in the internet so obviously that's what I do when I'm not able to sleep at all. The remedy? I don't know what's my remedy. When I lay on my bed, I get sleepy easily, or when I'm on the internet, I can stay up until 6am. Try &lt;a href="http://nakedthoughts.blogspot.com"&gt;Tiara&lt;/a&gt;, maybe she can give you some advice. ^_^ &lt;/ol&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3624353-79919154?l=shmily.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3624353/posts/default/79919154'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3624353/posts/default/79919154'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://shmily.blogspot.com/2002_08_04_archive.html#79919154' title=''/><author><name>chrysff</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry></feed>
