<?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-27902649</id><updated>2011-04-21T17:43:08.933-07:00</updated><title type='text'>random thoughts</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://justoneofemdays.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/27902649/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://justoneofemdays.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>random thoughts</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14006064424006014061</uri><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>26</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-27902649.post-7840853820760189768</id><published>2008-03-26T23:47:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-03-26T23:53:02.440-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;I have to let go.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;Cause what I am holding onto is not giving me any answers.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;In fact, it's just making me more confused.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;I need to move on. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;I need to move out.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/27902649-7840853820760189768?l=justoneofemdays.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://justoneofemdays.blogspot.com/feeds/7840853820760189768/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=27902649&amp;postID=7840853820760189768' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/27902649/posts/default/7840853820760189768'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/27902649/posts/default/7840853820760189768'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://justoneofemdays.blogspot.com/2008/03/i-have-to-let-go.html' title=''/><author><name>random thoughts</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14006064424006014061</uri><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><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-27902649.post-7119044990649127895</id><published>2008-03-13T23:19:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-03-13T23:23:59.705-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_RL8NuKmtte8/R9oZf5ZoxWI/AAAAAAAAAAM/pJQmN2iETkc/s1600-h/My+virgin+arm.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5177478757390796130" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 202px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 150px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" height="126" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_RL8NuKmtte8/R9oZf5ZoxWI/AAAAAAAAAAM/pJQmN2iETkc/s320/My+virgin+arm.jpg" width="202" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;font-size:85%;color:#ffcc99;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;When you know that you know who you love, you can't deny it. Or go back, or give up, or pretend that you don't buy it. When it's clear this time you've found the one, you'll never let him go Cos you know and you know that you know. When you feel in your skin in your bones and the hollow Of your heart, there's no way you can wait till tomorrow. When there isn't any doubt about it once you come this close Cos you know and you know that you know. You can feel love's around you like the sky 'round blue This is how love has found you, now you know what to do. &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/27902649-7119044990649127895?l=justoneofemdays.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://justoneofemdays.blogspot.com/feeds/7119044990649127895/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=27902649&amp;postID=7119044990649127895' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/27902649/posts/default/7119044990649127895'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/27902649/posts/default/7119044990649127895'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://justoneofemdays.blogspot.com/2008/03/when-you-know-that-you-know-who-you.html' title=''/><author><name>random thoughts</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14006064424006014061</uri><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><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp3.blogger.com/_RL8NuKmtte8/R9oZf5ZoxWI/AAAAAAAAAAM/pJQmN2iETkc/s72-c/My+virgin+arm.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-27902649.post-5522423250990891315</id><published>2008-03-13T21:04:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-03-13T21:09:25.143-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Tattoed in my mind</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;font-size:85%;"&gt;Baby you'll soon forget about all,or maybe you'll miss it like I do.One thing's for sure I'm on a doubt, spend too much time thinkin' of you. And I can't get you out of my dreams. Now I know that you're the dangerous kind. And your smile is tattooed on my mind. And I can't get you out of my dreams. Don't wanna write,I don't wanna call,I would not know what to say. It should be you. That's how I want it to be. Tell me you feel the same way&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/27902649-5522423250990891315?l=justoneofemdays.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://justoneofemdays.blogspot.com/feeds/5522423250990891315/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=27902649&amp;postID=5522423250990891315' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/27902649/posts/default/5522423250990891315'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/27902649/posts/default/5522423250990891315'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://justoneofemdays.blogspot.com/2008/03/tattoed-in-my-mind.html' title='Tattoed in my mind'/><author><name>random thoughts</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14006064424006014061</uri><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><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-27902649.post-6852147729821638819</id><published>2007-11-11T23:25:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-11-11T23:32:50.041-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Over</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#9999ff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;i can't seem to write anything that isn't depressing or suicidal.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#9999ff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;i want it to be over so badly.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#9999ff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;and when it's over...&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#9999ff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;i will not start anything again.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#9999ff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;too painful.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#9999ff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;what for? &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#9999ff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;it's just going to be over when the other person says it's over.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/27902649-6852147729821638819?l=justoneofemdays.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://justoneofemdays.blogspot.com/feeds/6852147729821638819/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=27902649&amp;postID=6852147729821638819' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/27902649/posts/default/6852147729821638819'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/27902649/posts/default/6852147729821638819'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://justoneofemdays.blogspot.com/2007/11/over.html' title='Over'/><author><name>random thoughts</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14006064424006014061</uri><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><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-27902649.post-3756972531029930761</id><published>2007-05-14T03:02:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-05-14T03:31:15.832-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Lost for words</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#33ccff;"&gt;I don't seem to have much inspiration these days.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/27902649-3756972531029930761?l=justoneofemdays.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://justoneofemdays.blogspot.com/feeds/3756972531029930761/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=27902649&amp;postID=3756972531029930761' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/27902649/posts/default/3756972531029930761'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/27902649/posts/default/3756972531029930761'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://justoneofemdays.blogspot.com/2007/05/lost-for-words.html' title='Lost for words'/><author><name>random thoughts</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14006064424006014061</uri><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><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-27902649.post-5548593341895145493</id><published>2007-03-09T00:50:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-03-09T00:53:19.242-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Giving up?</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;color:#ff99ff;"&gt;I think I am slowly giving up hope on the fact that there is such a thing as the perfect partner.. the perfect man.&lt;br /&gt;Perhaps near perfect.. or perfect enough for me is what I may need to settle for. But that's like saying I'm settling for second best.&lt;br /&gt;I recall writing something along the lines of this..one of my very first enteries... and a year or so later.. I find myself still asking myself the same thing.&lt;br /&gt;Is there one perfect person for every perfect being?&lt;br /&gt;I met a random stranger today. We ate lunch together with a group of friends. And I respect her for her honestly and her strong attitude towards the sort of relationship issues she has faced. She was adamant about her belief that a certain type of men are cheaters, and always will be cheaters. I didn't want to believe, but when I thought back at the one and only sprint relationship I had with one of those men... they weren't exactly the best in providing a sense of security.&lt;br /&gt;But now it makes me question...&lt;br /&gt;Don't get me wrong. It's been something I have been thinking about for a while. It's something that.. has been bugging me for a while. The random lunch today just made me remember what has been a constant confusion in my head..&lt;br /&gt;I also had an interesting conversation lastnight with a dear friend of mine.&lt;br /&gt;I will try and recall. If I can't, I blame it on my tired body and half a bottle of white.&lt;br /&gt;It's rather boring stuff.&lt;br /&gt;It was about me.&lt;br /&gt;That I should have plans for myself.&lt;br /&gt;Plans that I want and want to pursue in. And plans I should definetly make happen if ever the opportunity arises. Doing something for myself. And not wait on others.&lt;br /&gt;My friend is probably right. I have in some ways, become afraid to because unconsiously I am dependent. Dependent on a certain someone that spoke these promising words to me. But as the days, weeks, months.. years.. go by... those words are more distant than ever.&lt;br /&gt;So, Is there one perfect person for every perfect being?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/27902649-5548593341895145493?l=justoneofemdays.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://justoneofemdays.blogspot.com/feeds/5548593341895145493/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=27902649&amp;postID=5548593341895145493' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/27902649/posts/default/5548593341895145493'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/27902649/posts/default/5548593341895145493'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://justoneofemdays.blogspot.com/2007/03/giving-up.html' title='Giving up?'/><author><name>random thoughts</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14006064424006014061</uri><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><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-27902649.post-5004101989979674237</id><published>2007-03-08T18:22:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-03-08T18:26:36.679-08:00</updated><title type='text'>This was my reading..</title><content type='html'>So, I tried this color test quiz online and it's pretty accurate.. atleast for my current situation...for something as simple as picking colors that fits youir mood in order of... preference...&lt;br /&gt;This was my reading....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You are trying to prove to others that nothing can really affect you. You are pretending to be stoical - indifferent to pain or pleasure and indeed even superior to any form of weakness. As a result, more often than not, you unfortunately act with undue harshness or severity by adopting an autocratic and self-willed attitude.&lt;br /&gt;Being a somewhat gentle, emotional and sensitive person, you are at this time experiencing a considerable amount of tension. What you really need is someone who can be close to you and to listen to what you have to say.&lt;br /&gt;You honestly believe that your hopes and ideas are realistic, but there seems to be no one around to give you the necessary reassurance and encouragement. You are egocentric. You believe that you are always 'right' - well maybe you are but you have a short fuse and are likely to take offence for the slightest reason.&lt;br /&gt;There is considerable amount of stress present in your life at this time and this is perhaps due to some considerable mental and physical frustration. There are various physical needs that are necessary for your well-being but whatever the reasons - mostly of your own making - your needs are not being fulfilled. We wonder why? You are under the impression that nobody seems to care for you. This predicament is most uncomfortable and it is because of this that you are experiencing far more stress than you feel you can cope with. You need to find a soul mate - someone who truly understands you and whose standards are as high as your own. As matters stand you would like to break away from the vicious cycle that you find yourself entrapped but this is easier said than done. You refuse to compromise with your opinions and essentially you are unable to resolve the situation because you are continually postponing the making of the necessary decision. You are stubborn but this should be no deterrent experiencing a happy life.&lt;br /&gt;Overwork - be it mental stress or physical strain, you are completely worn out and this depleted vitality has created an intolerance for any further stimulation. You feel disappointed with your obvious lack of energy and powerless to do anything about it. You are angry with yourself and this frustration shows. You are contradictory and argumentative and feel helpless to change the situation at this time. Take a break - even if it is only for a few days - allow yourself to breath, to unwind - you'll feel much better for it. Then trust and let go.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/27902649-5004101989979674237?l=justoneofemdays.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://justoneofemdays.blogspot.com/feeds/5004101989979674237/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=27902649&amp;postID=5004101989979674237' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/27902649/posts/default/5004101989979674237'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/27902649/posts/default/5004101989979674237'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://justoneofemdays.blogspot.com/2007/03/this-was-my-reading.html' title='This was my reading..'/><author><name>random thoughts</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14006064424006014061</uri><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><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-27902649.post-117126898009877851</id><published>2007-02-12T00:08:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-02-12T00:29:40.123-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Be strong little one.</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/5435/2946/1600/379225/7.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/5435/2946/320/752617/7.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#00cccc;"&gt;A sad day.&lt;br /&gt;Can't decide which is more tragic, if you never got the chance to meet your parents or the fact that you got to, but than it was taken away.&lt;br /&gt;Nothing can be more painful than losing a loved one. I won't say I know but I do feel. Because I have loved and loss in so many different ways.&lt;br /&gt;Someone I know,  who's mother passed away. This someone is someone very special, because this person gives more than takes. Helps, more than is helped. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#00cccc;"&gt;Albeit I didn't know this person for very long, a special sort of friendship developed, just before we had to be apart. I would miss this person in a different way, other people would miss this person.&lt;br /&gt;Because, everyone gives in their own little ways, sometimes their mysterious ways... and this one, very unconditionally.&lt;br /&gt;So, what do you say to someone who has lost a parent...I believe a lot of people are loss for words...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#00cccc;"&gt;When we went to pay our respect that night, you could feel this person's pain, the little strength of what's left that he tried to gather, to cover up for the pain and lost he'd just gone through, and will be a while. Time. Only time will heel. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#00cccc;"&gt;So, we got up and to leave. I did what I felt was right, and it felt right. A hug to take away alittle bit of that pain. To show that, they are still loved, and that it is not their fault, that it is not anyone to blame... but life.. is such...&lt;br /&gt;I don't know what else to say... &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#00cccc;"&gt;As this person says goodbye to his mother, he turn's a year older...&lt;br /&gt;Just give me a sign that you are going to be ok.. today.. tomorrow and whenever...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/27902649-117126898009877851?l=justoneofemdays.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://justoneofemdays.blogspot.com/feeds/117126898009877851/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=27902649&amp;postID=117126898009877851' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/27902649/posts/default/117126898009877851'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/27902649/posts/default/117126898009877851'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://justoneofemdays.blogspot.com/2007/02/be-strong-little-one.html' title='Be strong little one.'/><author><name>random thoughts</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14006064424006014061</uri><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><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-27902649.post-117093760185110661</id><published>2007-02-08T04:21:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-02-08T04:26:41.863-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Random and Lazy...</title><content type='html'>Random, but fun...thought I'd be lazy and blog this...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt; lindsey chin 2/8/2007 6:05 PM &gt;&gt;&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Play this game when you are bored. hehehehe&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;YES / NO GAME:&lt;br /&gt;Here are the rules:&lt;br /&gt;1. You can only say - Yes or No&lt;br /&gt;2. Only answer Yes or No...&lt;br /&gt;3. Repost this as the Yes/ No Game&lt;br /&gt;-------------------------------------------------------------&lt;br /&gt;Kissed someone on your top friends? Yes&lt;br /&gt;Danced in front of your mirror naked? No,Hell No.. hehehe&lt;br /&gt;Ever told a lie? Yes&lt;br /&gt;Tripped on mushrooms? No&lt;br /&gt;Done estasy? Yes&lt;br /&gt;Had feelings for someone who didn't have them back? Yes, Hell Yes..&lt;br /&gt;Been arrested? Yes, Kinda sorta..hm if being pulled off the road by a cop for drinking n driving..&lt;br /&gt;Kissed a picture? YES&lt;br /&gt;Slept in until 5 PM? Yes, probably.&lt;br /&gt;Had sex at work? My work? Hehehe&lt;br /&gt;Fallen asleep at work/school? YES, Hell yes&lt;br /&gt;Held an actual snake? Yes, I was very young and didn't know better.&lt;br /&gt;Ran a red light? Yessss&lt;br /&gt;Been suspended from school? Yes&lt;br /&gt;Totaled your car/motorbike in an accident? No&lt;br /&gt;Been fired from a job? No,.. not yet.. hahaha&lt;br /&gt;Sang karaoke? Yes&lt;br /&gt;Done something you told yourself you wouldn't? Yesss&lt;br /&gt;Laughed until something you were drinking came out your nose? Yes, sadly.&lt;br /&gt;Caught a snowflake on your tongue? Yes, I think I may have.&lt;br /&gt;Kissed in the rain? Yessss&lt;br /&gt;Sang in the shower? Yesss&lt;br /&gt;Sat on a roof top? No&lt;br /&gt;Been pushed into a pool with all your clothes on? Yesss&lt;br /&gt;Broken a bone? Kinda sorta, Yes ( is fractured considerd breaking?)&lt;br /&gt;Shaved your head? No&lt;br /&gt;Slept naked? Yes&lt;br /&gt;Blacked out from drinking? Yes&lt;br /&gt;Played a prank on someone? Yes&lt;br /&gt;Had a gym membership? Yes&lt;br /&gt;Felt like killing someone? Yesss ( right now)&lt;br /&gt;Made your girlfriend/boyfriend cry? Yes&lt;br /&gt;Had sex more than 9 times in one day? No.. hehe&lt;br /&gt;Had Mexican jumping beans for pets? No&lt;br /&gt;Been in a band? No&lt;br /&gt;Shot a gun? No ( someday)&lt;br /&gt;Played strip poker? Yes ( wif an ex)&lt;br /&gt;Donated Blood? No. (But will)&lt;br /&gt;Still love someone you shouldn't? Yes.&lt;br /&gt;Have a tattoo? Yes ( and no more lola=)&lt;br /&gt;Any piercings besides ears? Yessssss (thanks to Newton and Lindsey Lohhhh)&lt;br /&gt;Have a crush on anyone at the moment? Yes.&lt;br /&gt;Did something you regret? Yes. (but learnt never to regret too much)&lt;br /&gt;Ate a bug? Prob. Yes.&lt;br /&gt;Told someone you loved them (other than family)? Yes.&lt;br /&gt;Told someone you loved them without meaning it? Prob. Yes.&lt;br /&gt;Forgotten to wear undies to school/work? No.. (forgetful, but not that forgetful)&lt;br /&gt;Ever stuck your tounge to the inside of a freezer? Hahahaha., NO&lt;br /&gt;Pee'd your pants? Hmm.. prob when I was younger. Yes.&lt;br /&gt;Kissed someone of the same sex? Yes =)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/27902649-117093760185110661?l=justoneofemdays.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://justoneofemdays.blogspot.com/feeds/117093760185110661/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=27902649&amp;postID=117093760185110661' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/27902649/posts/default/117093760185110661'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/27902649/posts/default/117093760185110661'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://justoneofemdays.blogspot.com/2007/02/random-and-lazy.html' title='Random and Lazy...'/><author><name>random thoughts</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14006064424006014061</uri><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><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-27902649.post-117085159812380693</id><published>2007-02-07T04:16:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-02-07T04:33:18.136-08:00</updated><title type='text'>I Just Like It...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/5435/2946/1600/802711/beercigsnconversation.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/5435/2946/400/873511/beercigsnconversation.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I just really like this picture. It's so simple.&lt;br /&gt;Bad for for health but yet sweeter than sugar.&lt;br /&gt;It's three friends, with their individual preferred beverage and smokes. As much as I like being taken photographed...I like that sometimes, you don't need to be physically in the picture.&lt;br /&gt;You were there. You should know who you are, and who you were with.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It could be a couple of teenage kids  having beers and smoking their cigarettes after class, or  some really bored folks out there, but fun bored folks.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I just like it.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/27902649-117085159812380693?l=justoneofemdays.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://justoneofemdays.blogspot.com/feeds/117085159812380693/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=27902649&amp;postID=117085159812380693' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/27902649/posts/default/117085159812380693'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/27902649/posts/default/117085159812380693'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://justoneofemdays.blogspot.com/2007/02/i-just-like-it.html' title='I Just Like It...'/><author><name>random thoughts</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14006064424006014061</uri><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><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-27902649.post-117085012273682632</id><published>2007-02-07T03:50:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-02-07T04:08:42.746-08:00</updated><title type='text'>This Place...</title><content type='html'>I am in this place right now called confusion.&lt;br /&gt;I try and ask myself questions I can't answer.&lt;br /&gt;I ask people the questions I need answers for, but they too can't give me an answer.&lt;br /&gt;Or atleast, an answer that I will be happy to accept. A satisfying answer.&lt;br /&gt;This so called 'satisfying answer' does not seem to exist.&lt;br /&gt;It's satisfactory when you tell yourself it is.&lt;br /&gt;As my days pass me by, I fall deeper into this place. This place called confusion.&lt;br /&gt;I begin to ask more people if they could help me, answer the questions that I can't answer, and the answers that some of those dearest to me can't.&lt;br /&gt;Surprisingly, you get something. Not much. But something.&lt;br /&gt;It's ironic how sometimes, the ones that don't know you so well, are the one's that give the clearest advise. Simple, honest and real.&lt;br /&gt;So back to this place. I want to get out of this place.&lt;br /&gt;It's not healthy. It just makes me weak inside. It makes me weak, cause I can't talk to anyone about it. I don't want to confuse someone and bring them to this place of mine. Surely, they too have been in this place one or more times in their lives.&lt;br /&gt;I've visited many places.&lt;br /&gt;This is not one of them places, you want to repeat your visits.&lt;br /&gt;Sadly, you will.&lt;br /&gt;Signing Off, Confused.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/27902649-117085012273682632?l=justoneofemdays.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://justoneofemdays.blogspot.com/feeds/117085012273682632/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=27902649&amp;postID=117085012273682632' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/27902649/posts/default/117085012273682632'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/27902649/posts/default/117085012273682632'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://justoneofemdays.blogspot.com/2007/02/this-place.html' title='This Place...'/><author><name>random thoughts</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14006064424006014061</uri><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><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-27902649.post-116945746238916027</id><published>2007-01-22T01:12:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-01-22T01:17:42.656-08:00</updated><title type='text'>My 2006 thoughts in 2007</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/5435/2946/1600/833315/Cocktails.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/5435/2946/320/878878/Cocktails.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Happy 2007 Friends.&lt;br /&gt;It's been too long since I last pen down my thoughts... especially since my thoughts are usually quite random, and it's hard to when you have these thoughts in your head, and you're trying to talk to yourself and if it's a problem and these problems that you have.. you also try to solve them... and the moment you're distracted, those thoughts are just... pushed aside.. and usually, when pushed aside.. you tend to just forget.&lt;br /&gt;Call it selective memory or the lack of it, I apparently suffer from both at times, and sometimes when days are really bad, at the same time.&lt;br /&gt;So, it's 2007.&lt;br /&gt;I had little to contribute in 2006. Blog wise. But I swear to god, if blogging were as simple as 'I have these thoughts.. and these thoughts can be magically transmitted from my brain to my blog page..'.. life would be easier.. I would have 15mins more a day to do something else apart from writing my random thoughts down,.. and according to some source in the papers today (yes..I actually attempted to read something other then what's in my Inboxl) if you utilise 15mins of your time a day effectively, you will have more time in the long run and the moral of the story is you will end up with 91 extra days in a year.. how that exactly works, don't ask me!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Back to my thoughts... 2006... albeit I conveniently swiped aside many important thoughts last year, I did take pictures to make up for it. You have to love the camera.. a digital camera to be more precise. It takes many pictures and it also allows you to edit on the spot...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Though it loses it's true reason to capturing beauty once, cause with the on digital camera's.. you really only get one try, and you won't see what you have taken till you officially send your photos for prints. Hence, I still love the digital camera. People have more fun this way.&lt;br /&gt;So, maybe I won't be able to ever take great photographs like a propfessional, but who's to say if your photograph isn't a good, when beauty lies in the eyes of the beholder...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Back to what I meant to share,.. 2006. It didn't end with a bang, in fact quite the opposite. It was a change to have family from around the world be at one place in years, it was even better when my mom made all 30 of us a great Christmas dinner. My mom's like Mrs.Clause in disguise, and my sister was one of her little helpers.. ensuring everyone had something to open on Christmas day.&lt;br /&gt;This year, I opened more presents than I did wine bottles. Which was a change.&lt;br /&gt;In fact, my mom has a new little helper (my sister's other half) that took over my bar duties... I no longer had to stress over drinks for the guest, but actually sit down and drink with them guests.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Overall, I say it was one of the sweeter Christmas dinners at home with family.&lt;br /&gt;A dashing Mr.Cat was also not neglected, but invited and the only Cat in the house.&lt;br /&gt;And although... I didn't have my other half by my side, I do believe that we were together in our hearts and mind.. and like he always reminds me, "would you rather have me just at Christmas, or for the rest of the year?'&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The rest of the year, of course.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/27902649-116945746238916027?l=justoneofemdays.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://justoneofemdays.blogspot.com/feeds/116945746238916027/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=27902649&amp;postID=116945746238916027' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/27902649/posts/default/116945746238916027'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/27902649/posts/default/116945746238916027'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://justoneofemdays.blogspot.com/2007/01/my-2006-thoughts-in-2007.html' title='My 2006 thoughts in 2007'/><author><name>random thoughts</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14006064424006014061</uri><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><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-27902649.post-116434963450102547</id><published>2006-11-23T22:11:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-11-23T22:27:14.510-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Awards Night</title><content type='html'>It's the infamous Kancil's Night today.&lt;br /&gt;Apart from the anticipation of seeing if we as an Agency have won any awards, we also enjoy the fact that we've been given permission to leave work early to do what we do best, or shall I say, second best - drink.&lt;br /&gt;Yes, tonight, is like a big buffet for all of us. We start with the appetitser of pre drinks, which is usually for me white wine.&lt;br /&gt;Than dinner, would be a couple of more glaases of white wine. Maybe not the same kind, but definetly some sort of fermented grape juice. Perhaps I may try the red, just for a change.&lt;br /&gt;Than, followed by desert. More wine.&lt;br /&gt;You got to love the infamous Kancil's.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/27902649-116434963450102547?l=justoneofemdays.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://justoneofemdays.blogspot.com/feeds/116434963450102547/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=27902649&amp;postID=116434963450102547' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/27902649/posts/default/116434963450102547'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/27902649/posts/default/116434963450102547'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://justoneofemdays.blogspot.com/2006/11/awards-night.html' title='Awards Night'/><author><name>random thoughts</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14006064424006014061</uri><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><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-27902649.post-116434852602958160</id><published>2006-11-23T22:04:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-02-07T03:50:19.706-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Blah blah..</title><content type='html'>blah..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What random things do I have to share with you today...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The silent ones are the killer ones..&lt;br /&gt;Ever heard of that saying?&lt;br /&gt;I've heard it for the context of 'farts'.. and sometimes it's goes for people too... in many variations.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Take fights for example. A fight with your partner, in the movies would leave one or both parties screaming, tearing each other apart...breaking a few things around them, definetly some swearing. Then you have the ones that don't say anything, and keep it inside. These are the silent ones. The ones that keep quiet, and bite their lip, cause they are afraid to say it, to admit it, or to just talk about it.. hoping that maybe it wasn't happening, or maybe cause he/she felt that he/she did nothing wrong and does not want to stoop to the level of shouting and throwing things. And then perhaps, hurting unneccesarily.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Another example is stubborness. It's linked in alot of ways. It's one of those characteristics that a person possesses that can cause a relationship to crack. Especially worst if both parties are stubborn. Both don't wanna communicate, resolve...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You can't change someone's personailty, that's what makes the person. But, can you change a person's character? Will it be right to change, want to change a person. Perhaps not.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You like this person for a reason, and you are with this person for a reason.  Next question, what constitutes as 'like'.. 'love'... or 'just friends'... what's the right person? How do you know.. thee right person...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/27902649-116434852602958160?l=justoneofemdays.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://justoneofemdays.blogspot.com/feeds/116434852602958160/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=27902649&amp;postID=116434852602958160' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/27902649/posts/default/116434852602958160'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/27902649/posts/default/116434852602958160'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://justoneofemdays.blogspot.com/2006/11/blah-blah.html' title='Blah blah..'/><author><name>random thoughts</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14006064424006014061</uri><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><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-27902649.post-115864697612327107</id><published>2006-09-18T23:22:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-09-18T23:22:56.140-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Live Life to the fullest by Dragonelle</title><content type='html'>What does it really mean?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; Does it mean that we try to outlive ourselves by doing things that we haven’t done or things that we dream about? Does it mean that we start doing the whole World Peace thing? Or does it mean that we keep on partying like there’s no tomorrow?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A phrase like this always comes up when we hear something somber, or of tragic happenings in the world or to the ones we know. Then we hear ourselves advising to our closest kin that we should live life to the fullest cos life is too short to be sad or be stressed at work. We never know when we will go.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But can we really fulfill a common motto? Does our current situation allow us to carry it thru? True, some of us have the luxury to do it. Others, well, they just don’t have it. So what do we do? Try as we may to make the most of our situations, we sometimes fail to see the other side of things.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Historical events are happening in the world today. Many of which have been predicted since centuries ago and are coming to pass today. Some people belief that what was written in the past is due to a certain Someone who has traveled from the future to tell of what will happen in the world today.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If this is so, shouldn’t we start looking around and taking heed of what is going on around us? Even if this philosophy is untrue and perhaps, that Person did foresee the future and accounted it in the past of what will happen today. Even, if today’s stories were foretold in the past and are already happening today. Either way, shouldn’t we take notice and tune in to the disasters of the 21st century?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was just watching Oprah Winfrey on Monday evening and she had this guy on air who is an expert in diseases. He was talking about the pandemics of SARS, birdflu that are worse than AIDS. Here’s what he has to say: That there are more diseases to come that have no vaccine. Influenza in itself will mutate to form several flu viruses worse than our common flu. And to say the least, they have found and cultured a virus that was believed to have died in 1918. Diseases in the past which was once thought to have been wiped out will make a come back. Similarly, there will be more natural disasters that will come which we will not be prepared for. (http://home.tiscali.nl/tdruiter/7bowls.htm)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There could be many interpretations of Revelations, but nonetheless, they all spell disasters and the worlds’ efforts to curb or prevent them today. Thus, I have one question, should we still life our lives to the fullest or should do what we can to save our souls? This is one question only we can answer as individuals.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Think about it, and think hard.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/27902649-115864697612327107?l=justoneofemdays.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://justoneofemdays.blogspot.com/feeds/115864697612327107/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=27902649&amp;postID=115864697612327107' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/27902649/posts/default/115864697612327107'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/27902649/posts/default/115864697612327107'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://justoneofemdays.blogspot.com/2006/09/live-life-to-fullest-by-dragonelle.html' title='Live Life to the fullest by Dragonelle'/><author><name>random thoughts</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14006064424006014061</uri><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><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-27902649.post-115820924432897620</id><published>2006-09-13T21:09:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-11-23T22:11:07.240-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Not So Fast After All</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5435/2946/1600/so%20called%20sandwich.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5435/2946/200/so%20called%20sandwich.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lunch with my colleagues one day...&lt;br /&gt;Apparently I ordered coleslaw and fries with a side order of roast beef on toasted wholemeal.&lt;br /&gt;To add to that, it was a really bad roast beef sandwich.&lt;br /&gt;I chose it with the assumption that it will be relatively quick to prepare, and I could eat and leave.. but it turned out that, that preparing lamb stew, frying an omlette and a plate of hot noodles was even faster than my simple sandwich.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/27902649-115820924432897620?l=justoneofemdays.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://justoneofemdays.blogspot.com/feeds/115820924432897620/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=27902649&amp;postID=115820924432897620' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/27902649/posts/default/115820924432897620'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/27902649/posts/default/115820924432897620'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://justoneofemdays.blogspot.com/2006/09/not-so-fast-after-all.html' title='Not So Fast After All'/><author><name>random thoughts</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14006064424006014061</uri><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><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-27902649.post-115820509549591090</id><published>2006-09-13T20:32:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-09-13T20:38:15.506-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Cold</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5435/2946/1600/CAMJKHQ3.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5435/2946/200/CAMJKHQ3.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ever been in a situation where you think you feel so close to someone yet so far…&lt;br /&gt;Well, I just experienced it last night with my own family.&lt;br /&gt;It was 12 noon on a Wednesday, when my Mother calls me and tells me some bad news. My god mother who had been suffering from colon cancer has been in ICU for the last few days, and that she may only have a few more days to live.&lt;br /&gt;It came as a shock to everyone, as we weren’t informed earlier that the situation had gotten worst.&lt;br /&gt;Albeit we (my family and I) see this side of the family once, maybe twice a year.. it’s hard to understand why someone with such a big heart, who has devoted her life to god, would be taken away… by the man himself.&lt;br /&gt;So, I had just finished off my usual weekly meetings at the Client’s.&lt;br /&gt;I didn’t know exactly what to do. So, I texted my future cousin in law, whom happen to be a friend of mine before I knew he was dating my cousin, He’d inform me that the situation was unstable, and to keep me posted.&lt;br /&gt;An hour later, I receive a text… she had passed.&lt;br /&gt;All these thoughts ran through my mind… as I picked up the phone to inform my family this… “Mom, Kai Mah just passed away, I received a text from…” Silence... and then a quick, please inform your sister about this whilst I call your dad came next.&lt;br /&gt;We hung up.&lt;br /&gt;I sat there, thinking I better finish as much work as I can tonight, as I may need to take an emergency leave tomorrow, or the day after for the funeral. I had things to prepare for a Monday meeting. We don’t have enough time to complete all the work for Monday. Who’s going to follow up on my work? Speaking almost like I worked on my own without a team.&lt;br /&gt;But in actual fact, if it were the other way around, that someone else would have not thought three times about what’s going to happen if we don’t have the stuff for the Client cum Monday… and we also all know, the Client is going to make us go back and do more of their work for them anyway. They may as well let us make a decision for them, which they do at times.&lt;br /&gt;Regardless, I’m losing my thoughts…&lt;br /&gt;It was 7:45pm when I decided to leave work to go home.&lt;br /&gt;My mom was home, waiting for my dad, we both sat rather quiet… not saying too much to each other as we were waiting for my dad to come home.&lt;br /&gt;Minutes later, my dad returns. I was the first to see him, and greet him Hello. Just hello. Like it was a normal day in the week.&lt;br /&gt;But what was I thinking. It was my dad, the man in my eyes who is this big, grown up man who works and plays golf when he isn’t at work... who loves his coffee in the morning, afternoon and evening… It was my dad who hugged my Mom and then broke down. I have never in my 29 years of my life seen my dad… cry.&lt;br /&gt;It was at that moment, I felt so stupid that I should have given him a hug.&lt;br /&gt;As the thoughts ran through my mind, my Mom sat by him, and I realized that I’m very distant. It’s like I am home but yet I am not.&lt;br /&gt;Why was it so hard for me to feel, touch? They must have felt that I was cold and changed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As I started growing up, I started to stay overnights at friends etc and eventually moved out of the house two years ago… I have become somewhat alienated, occasionally going back... rampaging the fridge, because it’s always full with goodies. But, I don’t really take anything.&lt;br /&gt;In fact, I have started a habit, or become a custom if I may call it… to shop for myself. To look after myself.&lt;br /&gt;I think I’m odd that way. I am strong yet I am weak. I say that I can live without love but on the other hand I live for love. I say that I won’t die if he left me, and that I can always find someone else, but in the back of my mind, I have these serious suicidal thoughts…like no one else will love you as much as I do, and vice versa.&lt;br /&gt;Brings me to something somewhat true has told me. That no one in this world is worth dying for. That you would be retarded to end your life for some one, whom left you, hurt you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“It’s not the children that you need to worry so much about... it’s the husband and their mother”. The children have all grown up, working and outside from the life they keep with their parents, they have another life.&lt;br /&gt;But I can’t seem to think which is worst. Both situations leave you losing some sort of partner in life.&lt;br /&gt;I’m a wreck, and I know that in some ways I put myself in this place. This cold lonely place. Perhaps I need to step back, and evaluate my life, and my priorities. I need to learn to separate what superficial happy times are with real times.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It’s 9:22am. God it’s cold today.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/27902649-115820509549591090?l=justoneofemdays.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://justoneofemdays.blogspot.com/feeds/115820509549591090/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=27902649&amp;postID=115820509549591090' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/27902649/posts/default/115820509549591090'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/27902649/posts/default/115820509549591090'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://justoneofemdays.blogspot.com/2006/09/cold.html' title='Cold'/><author><name>random thoughts</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14006064424006014061</uri><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><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-27902649.post-115770992554587207</id><published>2006-09-08T03:00:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-09-08T03:05:25.560-07:00</updated><title type='text'>To Speech or Not to Speech</title><content type='html'>So it’s Friday and I have approximately 24 hours to write this speech. This random speech which I decided one drunken night to do. The idea is to write, and share it with my friends on another drunken night... which happens to be tomorrow…the 9th September, 2006. A day before I am officially a year older.&lt;br /&gt;Which means, if I do succeed in writing something today, I would be standing at a bar and reading this now.. Which would make it the 9th of September?&lt;br /&gt;So, here we are, and not at the little playground of McDonalds… which is a brilliant idea my dear friend Mr. King thought of... which he recently did with his friends... So, I am 29, but the theme is to party like I’m 9. I thought it was award winning ( but that’s just me) and then I contemplated for a while, and decided it would just be too difficult to sneak the drinks into those paper cups… and perhaps I was getting older cause the thought of planning it..… Tired already. So I decided, let’s keep this brilliant idea for next year... when I can party like I’m 3.&lt;br /&gt;Bear with me, cause if you are lucky, I have not started slurring, and you could be lucky enough to actually hear the words that are coming out from my mouth…&lt;br /&gt;Why is it people do this to themselves on their B days… or do others do it to them…  well, I am not very active, but when it comes to drinking the last drop,  I seem to always  be the first to raise my hands.. Or in this context, raise my glass.&lt;br /&gt;Just yesterday, which means Thursday…? I had a nice dinner, a good bottle of Peter Lehman’s… and the best company anyone could ask for.. Because this person was my better half. And I am so proud of him, and I think he doesn’t hear it enough. But he is someone I admire a lot, and no words could ever express the way I feel for him ( but I believe my eyes, my heart, my possessiveness of everything that moves around him(yes, I’m not proud of), my commitment thus far and my kisses.. will speak more than any words can.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Which brings me to my reply to a question someone posed to me... Is when my happiest moment was… and I thought the other day, this person is “the happiest moment of my life.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Black markers, and yellow post –its… it’s something that we recently discovered to be quite hilarious, and great for&lt;br /&gt;a)     writing things you can’t say cause it’s too personal/funny/rude&lt;br /&gt;b)    if you need to remember it&lt;br /&gt;c)     to read back the next day&lt;br /&gt;d)    to ask someone out&lt;br /&gt;e)     to bitch about the person sitting opposite you&lt;br /&gt;f)      in the long run, it’s cheaper then texting&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, I’m running out of things to say… I should be doing work…but I couldn’t be fucked... It’s the end of the week, it’s already 5pm and it’s pouring outside... wish I were curled up in bed with a movie... yes, I don’t read enough… hence I say boot instead of booth, and I slur as oppose to speak.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Great Friends are for keeps.&lt;br /&gt;Let’s drink.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/27902649-115770992554587207?l=justoneofemdays.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://justoneofemdays.blogspot.com/feeds/115770992554587207/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=27902649&amp;postID=115770992554587207' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/27902649/posts/default/115770992554587207'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/27902649/posts/default/115770992554587207'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://justoneofemdays.blogspot.com/2006/09/to-speech-or-not-to-speech.html' title='To Speech or Not to Speech'/><author><name>random thoughts</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14006064424006014061</uri><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><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-27902649.post-115156085407882439</id><published>2006-06-28T22:58:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-06-28T23:00:54.090-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Love is..</title><content type='html'>You have got to love a women who&lt;br /&gt;brings that opportunity to a man to make&lt;br /&gt;some money...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But you got to love the man more&lt;br /&gt;for suggesting to spend that money on&lt;br /&gt;the women!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/27902649-115156085407882439?l=justoneofemdays.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://justoneofemdays.blogspot.com/feeds/115156085407882439/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=27902649&amp;postID=115156085407882439' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/27902649/posts/default/115156085407882439'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/27902649/posts/default/115156085407882439'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://justoneofemdays.blogspot.com/2006/06/love-is.html' title='Love is..'/><author><name>random thoughts</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14006064424006014061</uri><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><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-27902649.post-115155086562944982</id><published>2006-06-28T19:36:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2006-06-28T20:14:25.630-07:00</updated><title type='text'>My dream this morning</title><content type='html'>You know how they say, dreams are like one or two seconds long.. but it always feels like a lifetime when you had it?&lt;br /&gt;Well, when you have a bad dream, you want it to be short, and you want to get out of it quick.&lt;br /&gt;I had one of those this morning.&lt;br /&gt;I dreamt by boyfriend was giving kissing lessons to the maid.&lt;br /&gt;I dreamt he said it was okay.&lt;br /&gt;I dreamt I threw a fit at him, and asked of him to leave immediately.&lt;br /&gt;I dreamt I saw the maid later and asked if she initiated or was my boyfriend being a good citizen?&lt;br /&gt;She cheerfully replied that she asked for it, and than I slapped her. In reality, I would have slapped her and fired her. But in reality, I would not be able to afford a maid.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, I woke up quite disturb.. In fact, this was one dream I remember quite clearly as I screamed myself back to reality. I scrambbled across the bed, reached for my dream book. Could not find anything similar to my dream.....&lt;br /&gt;What was in my head the night before.. what have I been busy unconciously thinking or worried about...&lt;br /&gt;I can put a face to the maid in my dream... and she's the cleaner I say hi to every morning at work... could my dream be telling me, that I am too nice, hence people take advantage of nice people... or ... betrayal is lurking.....&lt;br /&gt;Alittle confused...&lt;br /&gt;Alittle weary..&lt;br /&gt;Quite tired this morning..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You maybe wondering, so did I tell my boyfriend about it... well I did. He knows of my weird, twisted.. worrying tendancy to dream.. hence the dream book was a gift from him...&lt;br /&gt;He thought little of it.. kissed me a good day and that was it...&lt;br /&gt;I later got up and went to work.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;An hour later, at the office.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I saw her... the cleaner. It's so strange. It was a natural reaction of mine to greet her with a smile, but today it was a half smile....&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/27902649-115155086562944982?l=justoneofemdays.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://justoneofemdays.blogspot.com/feeds/115155086562944982/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=27902649&amp;postID=115155086562944982' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/27902649/posts/default/115155086562944982'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/27902649/posts/default/115155086562944982'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://justoneofemdays.blogspot.com/2006/06/my-dream-this-morning.html' title='My dream this morning'/><author><name>random thoughts</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14006064424006014061</uri><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><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-27902649.post-114861706775149882</id><published>2006-05-25T21:08:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-05-26T01:09:21.293-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Beauty from within</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5435/2946/1600/image008.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5435/2946/400/image008.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Why do they make people this beautiful and stop at one?&lt;br /&gt;Why can't we have two or maybe five of them. Cause out of five of them, one would be attached, one married, the other to be married, gay or some how blood related - but not such a bad thing, cause if he were your gorgeous brother, you would be automatically his gorgeous sister!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Just the other day, my bear (i like to call him that sometimes) and I were having a chat. He made a remark that most couples you see on the streets today is usually pretty, hot women with a not so hot man. And to top that up, (no puns intended) the men are usually shorter than the women.&lt;br /&gt;The occasional couples that are as beautiful as each other, like two professional models that are happen to be dating, the average Joe and his Miss and the one's I admire the most are the one's that compliment eachother.&lt;br /&gt;And of course, we must agree that inner beauty strikes one more than outter beauty.&lt;br /&gt;I know alot of people who aren't what you may say 'good looking' but because their personaility, their modesty, their positive attitude to life, little yet no make-up, no fake accents, no BS... makes them more beautiful than any supermodel on the cover of Vogue or GQ.&lt;br /&gt;So basically what I am trying to say is, not everyone is a Jude Law or a Miss Jolie.&lt;br /&gt;Be happy with who you are, and let that inner self of yours shine.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/27902649-114861706775149882?l=justoneofemdays.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://justoneofemdays.blogspot.com/feeds/114861706775149882/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=27902649&amp;postID=114861706775149882' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/27902649/posts/default/114861706775149882'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/27902649/posts/default/114861706775149882'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://justoneofemdays.blogspot.com/2006/05/beauty-from-within.html' title='Beauty from within'/><author><name>random thoughts</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14006064424006014061</uri><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><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-27902649.post-114803220689984927</id><published>2006-05-19T02:42:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-05-19T02:50:06.910-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Unquestionably Stupid by Dragonelle</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5435/2946/1600/images.0.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5435/2946/320/images.0.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Have you ever been in a situation where you feel really smart about yourself and rightly so?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Have you ever thought that it should be you sitting in ‘That’ chair and not the other person?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Have you ever wished that you could just say “You’re fired!!” ?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sigh... what can I say? Sitting here day in day out, getting stressed over stupidity. I mean what kind of stress is that? If you’re stressed over work load or incompetent clients, that’s understandable. But getting stressed over your immediate chief, is undeniable appalling!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why do I say that?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Imagine, a person who enters the realm of your working style and culture; riding on his high horse with his nose pointed in the air, so high you can see the hairs in his two black nostrils. Then he comes in with his own apparatus as though what is provided is far less superior than his. To add on, he drops post-its on your lowly table instead of verbally conversing with you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As if that’s not enough, you need to be mentally drained by him. Wouldn’t you wonder if a person who sits so highly on his chair would have brains as high as the heavens above? Ok, so maybe not so high, but really, ought he not to be better than you??&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Gosh… like seriously, how can a person be so self-centered and condescending and totally brainless? I mean, like… tell me something I already know and you sound damn smart! Ha! Ha!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Taking sympathetic time off whilst not knowing the true meaning of it, does it summon any sympathetic feelings from me? Advising me on strategies whilst it being nothing new to me, does it garner any respect from me? Not admitting that you don’t know how to do certain work, does that enable me to see you as a capable superior?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why then, is this specimen hired when he can’t fit the description? Why then is this establishment employing such an outright, worthless, egoistic SOB who only knows how to wear brands on his back and throw names around, without any substance?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why? Why? Why?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They should just pay me his salary and I’ll take over his blasted horse and chair!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/27902649-114803220689984927?l=justoneofemdays.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://justoneofemdays.blogspot.com/feeds/114803220689984927/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=27902649&amp;postID=114803220689984927' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/27902649/posts/default/114803220689984927'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/27902649/posts/default/114803220689984927'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://justoneofemdays.blogspot.com/2006/05/unquestionably-stupid-by-dragonelle.html' title='Unquestionably Stupid by Dragonelle'/><author><name>random thoughts</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14006064424006014061</uri><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><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-27902649.post-114776380986493827</id><published>2006-05-15T23:00:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-05-18T02:59:10.876-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Life and Death</title><content type='html'>Isn't it painful to know that when some one is brought into this world, someone leaves.&lt;br /&gt;You may be celebrating the birth of a new born whilst some one else is mourning over a death of a loved one.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;7 days ago, my step great grandmother was admitted to the hospital. All we knew when she was admitted was that she had difficulty breathing. And also she is 95 this year. She is an old lady.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What we didn't expect to hear from the doctor was that her lungs are failing her. Hence the breathing difficulty. That her lungs are failing her because she did not treat her breast cancer that she has been suffering with for the last 4 years.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We later found out that she didn't want to go through an operation. Her reason was it was a matter of time for her. Whether she uner goes the knife or not, she will eventually die. Apparently later.&lt;br /&gt;She's an old lady, but a very sane, old lady who can still teach us the history of China better than all my family members put together.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's been 8 days since her admission. And each day that goes by, she would ask my mother, when she would go home. It was hard for my mother, who has been almost like her real grandchild, have to listen to her ask, and not know what to say. With her legs so weak, and her breathing complications, it was unlikley the doctor would release her.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So everyday that passes, we pray that she gets stronger. Stronger so that we can take her home to see her cat. The cat that cries for her owner to return.&lt;br /&gt;Pray that we brought her to the hospital and that we can also bring her home from the hospital.&lt;br /&gt;As, we all know the life cyle is as such... you were delivered into the world in the hospital.. and you...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I trust you understand why the dear old lady begs to be brought home.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/27902649-114776380986493827?l=justoneofemdays.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://justoneofemdays.blogspot.com/feeds/114776380986493827/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=27902649&amp;postID=114776380986493827' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/27902649/posts/default/114776380986493827'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/27902649/posts/default/114776380986493827'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://justoneofemdays.blogspot.com/2006/05/life-and-death.html' title='Life and Death'/><author><name>random thoughts</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14006064424006014061</uri><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><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-27902649.post-114733381029306129</id><published>2006-05-11T00:40:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-05-11T00:50:10.293-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Before you say 'I do'...</title><content type='html'>Ever wonder what happens before you say 'I do'...&lt;br /&gt;I mean, even before the wedding vows... &lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5435/2946/1600/images.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 113px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 123px" height="130" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5435/2946/320/images.jpg" width="156" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The notorious bacherlor and bacherlorette night...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/27902649-114733381029306129?l=justoneofemdays.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://justoneofemdays.blogspot.com/feeds/114733381029306129/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=27902649&amp;postID=114733381029306129' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/27902649/posts/default/114733381029306129'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/27902649/posts/default/114733381029306129'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://justoneofemdays.blogspot.com/2006/05/before-you-say-i-do.html' title='Before you say &apos;I do&apos;...'/><author><name>random thoughts</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14006064424006014061</uri><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><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-27902649.post-114733320668556091</id><published>2006-05-11T00:15:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-05-11T00:40:06.693-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I'm seeing the girls tonight, honey!</title><content type='html'>A friend recently told me a wise story, about 'space'.&lt;br /&gt;How a guy an a girl in any relationship needs some space.&lt;br /&gt;It should be something you agree to, say once or twice a week.&lt;br /&gt;Have a girls night out, when he has a boys night out.&lt;br /&gt;And sometimes, have one more than he does.&lt;br /&gt;Always give him the option of coming along, as it's nice that he feels you want him around.&lt;br /&gt;Likewise.&lt;br /&gt;It also puts the other party at ease, in case he were to suprise you and drop by, and not the other way round... if you know what I mean.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/27902649-114733320668556091?l=justoneofemdays.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://justoneofemdays.blogspot.com/feeds/114733320668556091/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=27902649&amp;postID=114733320668556091' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/27902649/posts/default/114733320668556091'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/27902649/posts/default/114733320668556091'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://justoneofemdays.blogspot.com/2006/05/im-seeing-girls-tonight-honey.html' title='I&apos;m seeing the girls tonight, honey!'/><author><name>random thoughts</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14006064424006014061</uri><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><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-27902649.post-114731819488650190</id><published>2006-05-10T19:35:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-05-10T20:29:54.893-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The Good, The Bad, The Married and the Friend</title><content type='html'>It's inevitable that in our life time we will cross paths with one or all of the above mentioned.&lt;br /&gt;It's also inevitable that we will end up with one of the them.&lt;br /&gt;What I am trying to say is, you are who you are today because of them.&lt;br /&gt;Remember the time when you were still a teenager and all you ever did was scribble 'I will love Joe forever' ( an example) on anything your pen could write on. Or the time he went back to his home town to visit his relatives for Christmas, you and him would be apart for a week, and that 7 days would seem like 7 years.&lt;br /&gt;Or the time you went on vacation without him. Paris is expensive, but Paris is romantic. But everything seems not as beautiful, because he wasn't there with you. So you call home, only to have his friends pick up his call and tell you he's busy and to call back. So you think nothing of it, put down the phone. Shortly after the trip, you find out that the night he didn't pick up your call was also the night he was with someone else.&lt;br /&gt;So you cry alittle, alot actually. You contemplate on stupidly taking him back, because you can't live without him. Strangely you forget that it was him that cheated you.&lt;br /&gt;You cry some more. You cry till you can't cry anymore.&lt;br /&gt;You sleep, you die, wake up a few months later, and start to live again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Alanis Morrisette sang once, 'Isn't it ironic, you meet the man of your dreams, and than.. you meet his beautiful wife.. isn't it ironic". Which leads to the time you innocently believed that you were the only one for him, because he charmed you into believing so. The one that he wants to be with reasons sounded like sweet nothings at the time. Indeed they were nothings.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Than you meet one, that is interesting, one that you get along with very well, kind, generous, funny. This time, you are not the one wondering. This time he is wondering why if you and I get along so well, why are we not together. In reality, you made a decision not to see this 'friend' intimately, because you didn't feel half of what he feels for you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, after the many a men you meet, some you keep, some drift away. You have to ask youself, when will I meet 'The One'...&lt;br /&gt;Is there such a thing as 'The One..' Perhaps, that 'One' makes you feel a certain way, that 'One' makes you smile, that 'One' buys you roses, that 'One' meets your parents or that 'One' tells you he loves you..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He is the 'One' because you choose for it to be. There's no perfect relationship, no perfect men, or women for that matter. Only as perfect as you believe him or her to be. He or she is the one as much as you want he or she to be.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;With that, think back on how many times you thought to yourself, or told your friends or brought him home to your family and introuce him as the 'One', only to find out months down the line, you do the same thing but with another guy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Will we ever be satisfied with what we have, or will we always want something more, something that we can't have. Why is the grass always greener on the other side? Like Why can't have my cake and eat it? The cakes already in my hand, why can't I eat it.... This saying I will never quite comprehend...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/27902649-114731819488650190?l=justoneofemdays.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://justoneofemdays.blogspot.com/feeds/114731819488650190/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=27902649&amp;postID=114731819488650190' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/27902649/posts/default/114731819488650190'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/27902649/posts/default/114731819488650190'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://justoneofemdays.blogspot.com/2006/05/good-bad-married-and-friend.html' title='The Good, The Bad, The Married and the Friend'/><author><name>random thoughts</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14006064424006014061</uri><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><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
