<?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-6448248947798814368</id><updated>2011-10-03T22:48:12.729+08:00</updated><title type='text'>posiedaisy</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://posiedaisy.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6448248947798814368/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://posiedaisy.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>YingMei</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_8nDhqz7kB3g/SuAqBRnslNI/AAAAAAAAChg/qHcq62u162s/S220/10224_1239542158859_1538455946_30651897_5795378_n.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>10</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6448248947798814368.post-4409033055621658921</id><published>2011-05-23T11:07:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2011-05-23T11:07:56.171+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Runaway</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;I've moved.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6448248947798814368-4409033055621658921?l=posiedaisy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://posiedaisy.blogspot.com/feeds/4409033055621658921/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://posiedaisy.blogspot.com/2011/05/runaway.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6448248947798814368/posts/default/4409033055621658921'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6448248947798814368/posts/default/4409033055621658921'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://posiedaisy.blogspot.com/2011/05/runaway.html' title='Runaway'/><author><name>YingMei</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_8nDhqz7kB3g/SuAqBRnslNI/AAAAAAAAChg/qHcq62u162s/S220/10224_1239542158859_1538455946_30651897_5795378_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6448248947798814368.post-3009727868263027233</id><published>2011-05-17T21:17:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2011-05-17T21:25:45.452+08:00</updated><title type='text'>A cup of coffee at 9am</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Went to Beermarket with Melody, Lovelle, Dalton and a few of his friends yesterday night. My papi was shocked that I came home at 1.30am this morning. He thought I would be later than that but no, I was too tired. It was moderate fun; It could be better if I had enough sleep the days before. I conclude that I am a morning person. Period, seriously. Don't know if it is me or the lack of sleep, I suffered from headache this morning. Forced myself to wake up at 1pm so I could finish touching up my emc proposal. Hopefully Leela is not going to ask me to redo anything.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Can't believe I have lesson tomorrow still. How I wish I can have another six more months of holiday. Boyfriend is having so much fun in cruise right now. Hope friday comes soon so I can pinch his fat cheeks :*&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6448248947798814368-3009727868263027233?l=posiedaisy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://posiedaisy.blogspot.com/feeds/3009727868263027233/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://posiedaisy.blogspot.com/2011/05/cup-of-coffee-at-9am.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6448248947798814368/posts/default/3009727868263027233'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6448248947798814368/posts/default/3009727868263027233'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://posiedaisy.blogspot.com/2011/05/cup-of-coffee-at-9am.html' title='A cup of coffee at 9am'/><author><name>YingMei</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_8nDhqz7kB3g/SuAqBRnslNI/AAAAAAAAChg/qHcq62u162s/S220/10224_1239542158859_1538455946_30651897_5795378_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6448248947798814368.post-4159103417143298188</id><published>2011-05-08T18:49:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2011-05-08T19:10:21.250+08:00</updated><title type='text'>FLY, SET FREE</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-4SoCLKHBIH4/TcZ2U-sTQTI/AAAAAAAAC1o/cqbMr_r6pS4/s1600/tumblr_lkq45zvZSd1qzwaddo1_500.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 268px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-4SoCLKHBIH4/TcZ2U-sTQTI/AAAAAAAAC1o/cqbMr_r6pS4/s400/tumblr_lkq45zvZSd1qzwaddo1_500.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5604296889107431730" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;So basically after poly school starts, I have never stopped being busy. School life is not as easy as what I thought. I was nailed with 4 assignments and 2 presentations during my first week of school. It is not funny, it is not fun. I look more worn-out, I suppose. Dark circles are still pretty visible. (Which makes me upset whenever I look into the mirror.) I got lesser time to spend with my family and girls, I have total no time for myself. The only time I caught myself reading was a few days ago. I could not sleep at night so I took out my book (which I have not finished reading since last year) and started reading. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;I really miss it. Miss reading, of course. I have not had so much time for myself just to read or do whatever things I like. I wake up every morning to struggle with my bed to get up, have breakfast and off to school. On a side note, I love my classmates. (Minus one or two actually) They are more awesome (Nicole's favourite word) than what I imagined. Everyone seems to be genuine and caring.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;At the very same time, I miss my three girls. Although I had a mini misunderstanding with Claire the other time, I am glad that we cleared things up and we didn't hate each other. Imma manage my time better next time so as to have equal quality time with everybody I love. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Today is Mother's day but I did not get anything for my mom. We don't really celebrate this kind of thing but oh well.. I thought it could be a little different. I hate my mom's boss for making her work today ugh.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;That's all. Toodles!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6448248947798814368-4159103417143298188?l=posiedaisy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://posiedaisy.blogspot.com/feeds/4159103417143298188/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://posiedaisy.blogspot.com/2011/05/fly-set-free.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6448248947798814368/posts/default/4159103417143298188'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6448248947798814368/posts/default/4159103417143298188'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://posiedaisy.blogspot.com/2011/05/fly-set-free.html' title='FLY, SET FREE'/><author><name>YingMei</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_8nDhqz7kB3g/SuAqBRnslNI/AAAAAAAAChg/qHcq62u162s/S220/10224_1239542158859_1538455946_30651897_5795378_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-4SoCLKHBIH4/TcZ2U-sTQTI/AAAAAAAAC1o/cqbMr_r6pS4/s72-c/tumblr_lkq45zvZSd1qzwaddo1_500.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6448248947798814368.post-8737027518409534614</id><published>2011-04-07T22:32:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2011-04-07T22:58:20.627+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Save up for rainy days</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;I feel incredibly awful right now. For spending money. I helped my dad to read his letters again. This time, from HDB. They asked my parents to make a trip down for our new house payment next Sunday. I translated for him and tension showed up. He asked if my mom has extra savings and she said no. Lights of hope beamed down. He tries all means to get the money from insurance company and etc. However, I think it is not enough. Just a little bit more.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;I feel useless. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Hope everything will be fine by then.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6448248947798814368-8737027518409534614?l=posiedaisy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://posiedaisy.blogspot.com/feeds/8737027518409534614/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://posiedaisy.blogspot.com/2011/04/save-up-for-rainy-days.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6448248947798814368/posts/default/8737027518409534614'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6448248947798814368/posts/default/8737027518409534614'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://posiedaisy.blogspot.com/2011/04/save-up-for-rainy-days.html' title='Save up for rainy days'/><author><name>YingMei</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_8nDhqz7kB3g/SuAqBRnslNI/AAAAAAAAChg/qHcq62u162s/S220/10224_1239542158859_1538455946_30651897_5795378_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6448248947798814368.post-4477486448252125624</id><published>2011-02-17T19:31:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2011-02-17T23:55:08.848+08:00</updated><title type='text'>I'm back from break.</title><content type='html'>Hi everybody. I wanted to blog about Beach touch + Valentine's Day but Blogger is giving me problems having my pictures posted. I'm bummed. So I decided to blog something else first.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As Bang said, I am "outta the glue". Actually this three days meant nothing at all. Mainly because I still talked to XD and could not think straight even if I am alone. Or is it my brain just doesn't want to think of it at all. Wells, I guess it's fine. I shall drop everything wherever it is and start things anew. I know I am pretty anal about some stuffs(which I do not prefer spilling here.) but I guess it is time for me to move on. I shouldn't let myself get left behind. If everyone is moving, I should be too. &lt;strong&gt;I will try not to make judgemental remarks, pinning expectations on others, think a lot, procrastinate, let my mood/emotions get away, blame on others, share hopes or vision, make plans for the future and let my life get wasted. &lt;/strong&gt;Everything's going to be easy-come-easy-go, I am going to be more independent and try not to depend on others. In this way, I can save myself from a lot of heartbreaks or getting any empty promises. I can foresee that my path right in front of me is tough but I am going to walk alone firmly. Maybe with weapons or something ha!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When my dad and I were eating dinner just now, he gave me one of his speeches again. Yeah, again. They drive me nuts sometimes but they are whole lot of hard, cold truths. He stated clearly how he actually thinks of my part-time jobs. I'm not going to write down as they aren't nice. Obviously. Is it because I am growing to a full adult that's why he is being such a meanie now? He used to be supportive in whatever I do, giving me a hand when I did something wrong and encourage me whenever I am down. However, for this couple of months, he is not like that. He has been throwing me hard, sharp-edged rocks at me harshly. He thinks the course that I got into will turn me into a low-class worker in the future. He says I will always be the one serving customer, get wallowed by high-demanding clients and etc. He wants me to be someone giving order. Okay, which parents don't want theirs to be. But have you, Dad, asked me what I really want to be? What's funny is that I do not know what I want now. Because of you. I got drowned by these choices and dilemmas. I lost my sense of direction. You were not even supportive about the course that I really liked; Advertising. You only solemly believe that it will hinder me from earning good bucks. You always psycho me in being my cousin, who is an accountant. You are the one who wants me to be an accountant. I am fine with it but I don't see it as the best for me. Unfortunately, you don't see what I am seeing. You may be right at some point of view. But such a pity, you don't seem to be standing at my position this time. You might not be always right eh? Your expectation for me is way too high. I can barely reach it. It seems like I can't satisfy your I-want-my-daughter-to-blahblah anymore. Perhaps this is why I had expectations on others, which sucks. Woa family do make impacts on kids. I shan't talk about it any longer.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A happy note; I want to learn Yoga! Does anyone knows where I can learn it...........cheap? ._. I googled one but it's in MacPherson road. I DO NOT WANT TO TRAVEL SO FAR FOR A DAMN IT TWO HOURS OF YOGA.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Toodles.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6448248947798814368-4477486448252125624?l=posiedaisy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://posiedaisy.blogspot.com/feeds/4477486448252125624/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://posiedaisy.blogspot.com/2011/02/hi-everybody.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6448248947798814368/posts/default/4477486448252125624'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6448248947798814368/posts/default/4477486448252125624'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://posiedaisy.blogspot.com/2011/02/hi-everybody.html' title='I&apos;m back from break.'/><author><name>YingMei</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_8nDhqz7kB3g/SuAqBRnslNI/AAAAAAAAChg/qHcq62u162s/S220/10224_1239542158859_1538455946_30651897_5795378_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6448248947798814368.post-7876421473094193251</id><published>2011-02-07T23:45:00.004+08:00</published><updated>2011-02-08T00:30:28.381+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Growing up</title><content type='html'>Apart from cny, this week let me think a lot. Many things ran through my mind and made me ponder what I have been doing for this three months after O's. My girls and I started by working at M1 roadshow, where I met my boyfriend, but after that we went job-hunt and found different job each. Next, I joined and quitted L'zzie after a month. Reason is I got sick of travelling to town everyday(I was working as full-time then) and I miss my friends. I was sick of working almost 11 hours per day and got only one day off per week. I didn't know how to spend it. Whether with my friends, boyfriend or family. I had not had a chance to talk to my parents because of the timing. I always got home when they were about to sleep or already sleeping. On the other hand, when they are up, I was still sleeping. I remember how angry and upset my dad was when I kept going out during my off days rather than staying at home with him. Sometimes I think I should have clenched my teeth and stick with it. The people there are fine, my supervisor treated me good and I miss spinning around in the shop with my milk-cow dress. Sigh. Sometimes I do make bad decisions. Everyone does that, right? I feel awfully guilty towards a person, Jingyi. Baba always asks if I am free, whether I want to have lunch or dinner. But due to her impromptu ask-out, I always reject her. Believe me baba, I really want to meet you up. And so, we kept pushing the date further away than the present date and now she started school, dealing with A's. I miss many different groups of friends. Xuemin, Baba, Wenxin. Angmou, Weiting, Tricia, Peilin, Dakota, Quek, Yongren and Esther, Ben, Zhiwei, Cangjun, Charles and etc. I miss fooling around in class with those boys. Even though they can be a pain in the neck most of the times, but they are quite-awesome. They always say or do stupid stuffs that never make me stop laughing. Of course, not forgetting my beloved Bang, Mich and gold-haired Claire. I can't pull myself out of this three person. My heart actually aches whenever I think of us getting seperated. I am not exaggearting, seriously. We have not gone out together as a whole group for long and I am longing for it. Hope everyone has the time to hang out after beach touch. I miss playing touch rugby. I miss hanging out with every single person I listed. Or even, texting. Whenever I receive a text from someone I used-to-talk-to-but-stopped-for-very-long, I will find myself grinning while replying. That is how happy I am. Unfortunately, as we grow, truth starts hitting us right at the face. We need money, we got fucked up at times, we are running short of time, we grow into different circle of friends who have the same frequency, we act differently, we change, we got non-stop problems charging towards us, our schedules always clash, we face mean people and many more. I am just listing negative stuffs though. This is because I have negative aura all wrapping around me now. At times, I sulk at home and question myself. Why do we have to change. I ask many questions that start with "why" and I can't answer them. Although I always say "suck it up/fuck it/move on/don't care" and many more, I am actually incapable of doing that. I get upset whenever I think of everything in the past, where things were much more simpler and fun. Everyone carries a smile in their faces. Everyone sees each other almost everyday. Everyone laughs without faking it. I fucking miss that. Mehhh I feel a great nostalgia for my secondary school times. I really do. Now, Imma write letter to every single soul I miss. I may take some time, but I will still do. I miss being happy-go-lucky. Currently, I reach a stage whereby I have to witness change everyday, I will stop sulking and whine to myself everytime. I honestly feel much better after typing all out. I sort of sorted out my feeling right by my own. I need to grow up. Even if it sucks to the core. Still, I am excited to meet Tricia for Ajisen on idk when and school. It WILL be a great start for everyone. :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6448248947798814368-7876421473094193251?l=posiedaisy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://posiedaisy.blogspot.com/feeds/7876421473094193251/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://posiedaisy.blogspot.com/2011/02/growing-up.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6448248947798814368/posts/default/7876421473094193251'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6448248947798814368/posts/default/7876421473094193251'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://posiedaisy.blogspot.com/2011/02/growing-up.html' title='Growing up'/><author><name>YingMei</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_8nDhqz7kB3g/SuAqBRnslNI/AAAAAAAAChg/qHcq62u162s/S220/10224_1239542158859_1538455946_30651897_5795378_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6448248947798814368.post-1479199256555118939</id><published>2011-01-17T23:45:00.008+08:00</published><updated>2011-01-18T00:34:04.873+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Advanced first.</title><content type='html'>&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5563183600146071106" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_8nDhqz7kB3g/TTRmAmL8PkI/AAAAAAAACz0/nTpr21TGg5A/s400/IMG_1045.JPG" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;I rolled out of my bed at eight in the morning and I only slept for five hours. I got a quick bath, had milk with cereal, grab the A4 sized parcel/present/potato salad and zoomed out of my house as soon as possible. In the same time, a more-like-a-pig guy is still sleeping on his bed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;985 is a total bitch in the morning. The bus is awfully crowded and I hate crowds. But I reached Boon Keng before 10a.m. Perfect. Then I wended my way to xdg's. When I got there, his mom opened the door for me with her usual big smile, very amusing. Then she started ranting at him which goes, "Ah mee ah ah mee! Still don't want to wake up ah? You want to let YingMei watch you sleep is it!!!?" I could not help but burst into laughter, seriously.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;When he went to bath, his mom had a small chat with me. It was pretty nice. She was amazed by the fact that my parents are from Malaysia. So there was this mini introduction about my parents and all. And it goes on...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;After his mom left to meet her friends or something, the boy gets his letter/present. He is mad fortunate please. His life is way better than others. I think he should let me have teddie. Okay, that's random. He got it, opened it and blah blah. I thank god that his family likes my potato salad and he is fucking touched by my masterpiece okay! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_8nDhqz7kB3g/TTRmiTLNtAI/AAAAAAAAC0E/n8C38IEtuAA/s1600/IMG_1055.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5563184179158299650" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_8nDhqz7kB3g/TTRmiTLNtAI/AAAAAAAAC0E/n8C38IEtuAA/s400/IMG_1055.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5563182550926222962" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_8nDhqz7kB3g/TTRlDhib5nI/AAAAAAAACzk/58NVrUQ40XA/s400/IMG_1060.JPG" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;We went down to have lunch after. I finally had my YTF! It was yummily good, feels like Malaysia and I don't know why. Trained over to Farrer Park for Gongcha and we roamed around. Played the hunter game which reflected how loser I am because I ignored him after losing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5563182540142069506" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_8nDhqz7kB3g/TTRlC5XSxwI/AAAAAAAACzc/yaLow2TAo5E/s400/IMG_1065.JPG" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;At three plus or so, we got bit by tired-bug, blew blubble gum, ate kuehs and train back to Boon keng before taking 985 back to Batok. I went home to meet Cindy(she's staying over at my place currently) while he went to school.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;C and I suppose to be watching movie now but we end up looking as if we were in a LAN shop. We listened to sad chinese songs and got emo without any reason. We are dumb. Now let's talk about what we used to do when we were younger!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;Okay bye everyone. Imma start work at G2000 later in the afternoon and I should be sleeping now! Cross fingers that everything's going to be good.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;PS: I realise some people I don't know who will read my blog are reading it. This scares me omg.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6448248947798814368-1479199256555118939?l=posiedaisy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://posiedaisy.blogspot.com/feeds/1479199256555118939/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://posiedaisy.blogspot.com/2011/01/advanced-first.html#comment-form' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6448248947798814368/posts/default/1479199256555118939'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6448248947798814368/posts/default/1479199256555118939'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://posiedaisy.blogspot.com/2011/01/advanced-first.html' title='Advanced first.'/><author><name>YingMei</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_8nDhqz7kB3g/SuAqBRnslNI/AAAAAAAAChg/qHcq62u162s/S220/10224_1239542158859_1538455946_30651897_5795378_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_8nDhqz7kB3g/TTRmAmL8PkI/AAAAAAAACz0/nTpr21TGg5A/s72-c/IMG_1045.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6448248947798814368.post-5251676579804550480</id><published>2011-01-05T21:05:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2011-01-05T22:55:47.540+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Suck it up, babe.</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_8nDhqz7kB3g/TSRs2yVyKgI/AAAAAAAACzE/LNuqSJVjg78/s1600/tumblr_lei9d6jc7d1qaoe1oo1_500.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 291px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5558687528563911170" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_8nDhqz7kB3g/TSRs2yVyKgI/AAAAAAAACzE/LNuqSJVjg78/s400/tumblr_lei9d6jc7d1qaoe1oo1_500.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;I GOT MY PAY FROM L'ZZIE! Yay, not!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;I transferred more than half of the amount to my dad. Or rather, indirectly me. He says that I can not save money by myself for school this coming April so he's helping me. Okay whatever, he wins. I still have to pay Weiting his money back and some things of mine. Sigh life really sucks when you have no money. I can simply declare bankrupt now. Thank god I am still getting allowance from dad. Yay him!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;Claire got hired. Lucky her. Now I am the only one who is jobless now and being so picky, I only want my workplace to be places like Jurong Point, IMM or Westmall HAHAHA. I am so lazy to work alright! Or I should try G2000?&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;Everything sucks now. All I planned was working, save a little and get my ass to BKK. BUT I AM STILL IN SINGAPORE OH WHY OH WHY. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;Fuck it. Stop whining. Thing will be better. Period.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;Oh. I had Sakae with Xiao dai today. In conclusion, we are damn loser. We eat much lesser than we look. The bloating feeling is extremely gross and my stomach hurts from laughing at his dumb soya sauce act! We ate, we laughed, we walked around and chit-chatted with Hui and poof! We looked tired and bam! Homed. Was fun though. Spending more time together before either of us gets busy with work/school. :)&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6448248947798814368-5251676579804550480?l=posiedaisy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://posiedaisy.blogspot.com/feeds/5251676579804550480/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://posiedaisy.blogspot.com/2011/01/i-got-my-pay-from-lzzie-yay-not-i.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6448248947798814368/posts/default/5251676579804550480'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6448248947798814368/posts/default/5251676579804550480'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://posiedaisy.blogspot.com/2011/01/i-got-my-pay-from-lzzie-yay-not-i.html' title='Suck it up, babe.'/><author><name>YingMei</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_8nDhqz7kB3g/SuAqBRnslNI/AAAAAAAAChg/qHcq62u162s/S220/10224_1239542158859_1538455946_30651897_5795378_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_8nDhqz7kB3g/TSRs2yVyKgI/AAAAAAAACzE/LNuqSJVjg78/s72-c/tumblr_lei9d6jc7d1qaoe1oo1_500.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6448248947798814368.post-4747927352849758478</id><published>2011-01-03T23:06:00.005+08:00</published><updated>2011-01-04T00:32:13.916+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Family still matters most.</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_8nDhqz7kB3g/TSHmSqDcD0I/AAAAAAAACy8/OQa9Zeqj1vs/s1600/tumblr_leexrysss41qzsw67o1_500.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 318px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5557976623352647490" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_8nDhqz7kB3g/TSHmSqDcD0I/AAAAAAAACy8/OQa9Zeqj1vs/s400/tumblr_leexrysss41qzsw67o1_500.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Aww&lt;/span&gt;....aren't they cute?&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;It's nice of have a complete home. It does not matter if your parents are homosexuals or not, what you need is just love, care and a stable roof over your head.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;My dad finally starts talking to me again. Of course he did some scolding first. Then he said something that almost made himself cry. I panicked and hugged him right away. He said, "How many days can I really stay by your side? You and I clearly know that I'm old. What I want is to have a nice dinner with my family after a long day, everyday. Teach you whatever I know. Prepare you before starting a family by your own. Your parents are not young &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;y'know&lt;/span&gt;. I can't stay by your side till whenever you like. You are still young. Why can't you spare some time for us first? And you don't know how to save at all. See the amount left in your account now...." And then he went speechless.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;Then I feel a tinge of guilt. For blaming him for being not understanding; Wanting him to admit the fact that I have grown up. But I am all wrong. By right, in his eyes, I am forever that little girl. I was masked by all the fun. I forgot how to prioritize. I forgot that family comes first. I forgot how to cook a proper dinner for them. I forgot how to save money. I forgot we were suppose to save up for our new home in 5 years' time.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;I do miss home when I am out. Just that fun covered it up. Here I am; Sitting on my chair now... I feel that I miss home when I'm at home. Dad's right. He always is. He always think out of the box and he actually thinks in many different views. He may be harsh this time but he got his point. I made him pretty upset. Not to minus the fact that he loves/dotes me the most. Fortunately, I always get what I want. Wells, most of it. On the other hand, I give him nothing. &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Mmm&lt;/span&gt;...maybe I did him proud. My schoolwork is fairly good. He gets contented easily. Just like my mom. They are really sweet people who God planted in my life. I couldn't ask for more...&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;Like seriously..my dad fucking knows how to repair almost everything. &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_3" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;Furniture&lt;/span&gt;, housewares, electronic stuffs, computer and etc. He cooks and it's more than just thumbs up. He cracks jokes. He buys me things. Still give me allowance when I am working. He saves money for the family. I can't list out all here.....he's amazing. A close-to-perfect husband and father.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;Can't imagine a day when I really lose him..... God. I sound like he's dying. He is not. Will not. Ever. Period. I simply love him no matter what.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6448248947798814368-4747927352849758478?l=posiedaisy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://posiedaisy.blogspot.com/feeds/4747927352849758478/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://posiedaisy.blogspot.com/2011/01/family-still-matters-most.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6448248947798814368/posts/default/4747927352849758478'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6448248947798814368/posts/default/4747927352849758478'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://posiedaisy.blogspot.com/2011/01/family-still-matters-most.html' title='Family still matters most.'/><author><name>YingMei</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_8nDhqz7kB3g/SuAqBRnslNI/AAAAAAAAChg/qHcq62u162s/S220/10224_1239542158859_1538455946_30651897_5795378_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_8nDhqz7kB3g/TSHmSqDcD0I/AAAAAAAACy8/OQa9Zeqj1vs/s72-c/tumblr_leexrysss41qzsw67o1_500.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6448248947798814368.post-7174492433213815516</id><published>2011-01-02T23:08:00.007+08:00</published><updated>2011-01-02T23:50:09.146+08:00</updated><title type='text'>A comeback.</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_8nDhqz7kB3g/TSCVw9fQiVI/AAAAAAAACy0/jGkYFe9pqLI/s1600/tumblr_lduu5uKxfC1qfeln4o1_500.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 266px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5557606608547121490" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_8nDhqz7kB3g/TSCVw9fQiVI/AAAAAAAACy0/jGkYFe9pqLI/s400/tumblr_lduu5uKxfC1qfeln4o1_500.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Hello to whoever is reading.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;I am finally back, blogging. I wanted to blog quite some time ago but I did not have a chance to as I was too busy working. Or rather, I was too lazy to log into blogger.com. Bummer. Now I am back, I would like to jot down every details in my life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;This morning was pretty kind on me. Claire &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;texted&lt;/span&gt; and asked if I was at home and she bought breakfast up to my place. We updated each other while eating, which was good. I miss talking to her even though most of the time I was secretly cursing her for not replying my text. I passed her her Christmas gift and I am glad that she liked it a lot. Or I should say, loved? It is funny how I instructed her to undress first before handing the present to her. This was exactly what I did to &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Lovelle&lt;/span&gt;. It's amusing. I couldn't stop giggling. Oh holy shit.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;After C left, I did housework and all. I love being in clean rooms/houses. The feeling can't be described. Okay, I just love being clean. I can't stand dirty tables or dusty beds. Still, my dad ignores me. It has been two days and I still don't get it. He has to admit that I've grown up. I won't always be with him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_8nDhqz7kB3g/TSCVwlSW7RI/AAAAAAAACys/b3Yt30cmsl8/s1600/IMG_0898.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5557606602050563346" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_8nDhqz7kB3g/TSCVwlSW7RI/AAAAAAAACys/b3Yt30cmsl8/s400/IMG_0898.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; And. I have a............................boyfriend. He is nice overall. Sweet. May not be the best looking man on Earth but I like him still. Always make effort to pick me up from work and send me back to &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Batok&lt;/span&gt; before running for last bus back to Boon &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_3" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Keng&lt;/span&gt;. Buy me food(&lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_4" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Ok&lt;/span&gt; enough, I don't want to go back to my old weight) and all. Made a card for me and drew my favourite stitch on the envelope. I like it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I miss all my girls. A lot a lot a lot. Work is so irritating. It keeps us distant. I just &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_5" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;quit&lt;/span&gt; a full-time job at &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_6" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;L'zzie&lt;/span&gt; and waiting for their schedule for their part-time. Whatever it is, I am going for job-hunt with Claire this Tuesday. Hope something good will happen. I need nicer &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_7" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;environment&lt;/span&gt; and fun people.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sometimes I wish this year is 2010. At least I can study with my friends again. Be it Zach and clique, Tricia or my girls. I fucking miss them. When can we go out again! I want to run around in school, chasing everyone and clip my fringe back.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I. AM. NOSTALGIC. AGAIN. FUCK. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6448248947798814368-7174492433213815516?l=posiedaisy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://posiedaisy.blogspot.com/feeds/7174492433213815516/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://posiedaisy.blogspot.com/2011/01/comeback.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6448248947798814368/posts/default/7174492433213815516'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6448248947798814368/posts/default/7174492433213815516'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://posiedaisy.blogspot.com/2011/01/comeback.html' title='A comeback.'/><author><name>YingMei</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_8nDhqz7kB3g/SuAqBRnslNI/AAAAAAAAChg/qHcq62u162s/S220/10224_1239542158859_1538455946_30651897_5795378_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_8nDhqz7kB3g/TSCVw9fQiVI/AAAAAAAACy0/jGkYFe9pqLI/s72-c/tumblr_lduu5uKxfC1qfeln4o1_500.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
