<?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-1234638004052634026</id><updated>2011-07-08T07:47:40.438+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Cherub</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jeanthedork.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1234638004052634026/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jeanthedork.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>The dork</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06367371835472193854</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>15</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1234638004052634026.post-2317046438860266926</id><published>2009-12-09T00:02:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2009-12-09T00:50:16.108+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Love It When You Call&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;current mood: T-I-P-S-Y&lt;br /&gt;theme   song  : Love it when you call by the feeling&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;OH YEAH, BITCHES, JEAN THE DORK IS BACK!&lt;br /&gt;I had so much fun reading my previous posts and laughing at them. Then, something came to my mind, hmmm, I really should revive my blog since I am goddamn free at the moment.&lt;br /&gt;Thus, here I am, again.&lt;br /&gt;I must say I was indeed a teeny-weeny-whiny back then. I really had tons to blog!&lt;br /&gt;Like complaining how sucky my life was and how sucky the guys I met were.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;SO, what's the difference now? The only difference is I am getting whinier! Believe it or not.&lt;br /&gt;What have I been doing so far? It's time to push the rewind button and refresh my memory a wee bit.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. I  was so happy when I got my first job. I couldn't be any happier when I got out of it. It's like one of the happiest moments in my life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. I thought I had a really big chance of becoming the next MOST-WANTED due to some juicy saucy issues going on in the previous company.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. I am an adult. Like finally. Not physically but mentally. I am always a teen if you talk about physically. Not teeny-flatty-boobies that type but a toned up figure every guy dies for. OKIE, I AM LYING TO MYSELF. AT THIS STAGE, I BELIEVE I AM OFFICIALLY DRUNK.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4. I think I found my Mr. Fishtank. I think we were both sober when we met.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5. I can finally cook and bake without poisoning anyone. Oh yeah, you really should try my signature soup and the honey glazed chicken I make. I am pretty sure they are sooo good that you will chew your own fingers without realizing it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;6. Then, I resigned two months ago.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;7. Have been slacking at home. Yet, I try to be useful and productive by contributing some of my money to our society. Which means shopping.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;8. I have a cutesy named TUXY. He's like the most adorable and smartest kitten ever! He is so playful that every single thing at home can be his favourite toy, especially my BRA.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;9. Still addicted to falsies.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;10. Been exercising vigorously coz I wanna take part in the next Olympics game. NOT. Just wanna be ready for the sun-tanning in Perth.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;11. Almost became a ZIT-ney Spears by trying out some facial products. Luckily, the elliptical machine saved me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;12.  Can't wait for the Japan snow skiing trip in Feb.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;13. Oh yeah. I almost murdered someone in the previous company.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;14. Having a job interview tomorrow. Hopefully, I won't speak like a rocket and makes the interviewer thinks that I want the sales position so much when I am NOT applying for the sales position. THIS happens everytime.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;15. Realized that &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Angus, Thongs and the Perfect Snogging&lt;/span&gt; is a nice movie to watch. At least, it's better than the movie talking about this 100-plus-year-old perverted old man liking the smell of a young girl's blood. Yeah, I am talking about Dwilight. Oops sorry, I mean &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Twilight&lt;/span&gt;. Frankly, I do not understand the acting. Can Robert.P and the rest act any better?It just made me laughing so hard when I watched it. What's with the face?? It's like, OMG, I could smell some period.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was even funnier when Belle found out that Cullen was actually a vampire. Maybe she thought he was just being loony to put tons of foundation or BB Cream on his face to school.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sorry to be mean. Yet, I don't have the slightest idea why teenies nowadays are crazily in love with this type of movie.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;By the way, Aaron Johnson is such a hottie in &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Angus, Thongs and the Perfect Snogging.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;p.s. FION LIAW, he's totally your type.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;16. Alrighty, it's time to go to bed and get ready for the interview tomorrow. It's gonna be a beezee day for me tomorrow coz&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;17. It's BUTTER FACTORY tomorrow night!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-Signing Off-&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1234638004052634026-2317046438860266926?l=jeanthedork.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jeanthedork.blogspot.com/feeds/2317046438860266926/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1234638004052634026&amp;postID=2317046438860266926' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1234638004052634026/posts/default/2317046438860266926'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1234638004052634026/posts/default/2317046438860266926'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jeanthedork.blogspot.com/2009/12/love-it-when-you-call-current-mood-t-i.html' title=''/><author><name>The dork</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06367371835472193854</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-1234638004052634026.post-5634577006720488441</id><published>2008-11-23T12:17:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2008-11-23T12:41:08.615+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Let Go&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Current  mood: -&lt;br /&gt;Theme   song  : Let Go by Frou Frou&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This feeling is, oh, I don't even know what this feeling is.&lt;br /&gt;Perhaps a little bit scared?&lt;br /&gt;Or very scared?&lt;br /&gt;I wanna talk to someone so badly. Yet, there's no one I can talk to right now?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I knew it was gonna happen. But I chose to go ahead with it.&lt;br /&gt;I knew it.&lt;br /&gt;It is true that uncertainties scare the hell out of me. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Just stay,&lt;br /&gt;when leaving is not the best solution.&lt;br /&gt;Don't run,&lt;br /&gt;when you have already started writing the tragedy.&lt;br /&gt;Don't cry,&lt;br /&gt;when tears do not taste the same.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This feeling is indeed taking control of me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1234638004052634026-5634577006720488441?l=jeanthedork.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jeanthedork.blogspot.com/feeds/5634577006720488441/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1234638004052634026&amp;postID=5634577006720488441' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1234638004052634026/posts/default/5634577006720488441'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1234638004052634026/posts/default/5634577006720488441'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jeanthedork.blogspot.com/2008/11/let-go-current-mood-theme-song-let-go.html' title=''/><author><name>The dork</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06367371835472193854</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-1234638004052634026.post-8307033386568727793</id><published>2008-11-14T22:56:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2008-11-14T22:57:16.989+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nobody said it was easy.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1234638004052634026-8307033386568727793?l=jeanthedork.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jeanthedork.blogspot.com/feeds/8307033386568727793/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1234638004052634026&amp;postID=8307033386568727793' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1234638004052634026/posts/default/8307033386568727793'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1234638004052634026/posts/default/8307033386568727793'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jeanthedork.blogspot.com/2008/11/nobody-said-it-was-easy.html' title=''/><author><name>The dork</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06367371835472193854</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-1234638004052634026.post-3872795179434245605</id><published>2008-11-11T17:11:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2008-11-13T19:52:06.472+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Fever&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;current  mood : puzzled&lt;br /&gt;theme    song       : Fever by Kylie Minogue&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Busy busy busy beeeee zeeeeeeee.&lt;br /&gt;The Last semester kills. Well, the last semester does not really kill, but the projects and assignments do. URGH!&lt;br /&gt;And yay! Our idea for the second assignment (MarComm) was chosen. Hence, we will get sooo busy to work with the FMS students for the following weeks. Which is a good thing. =)&lt;br /&gt;For your information, the "we" here only consists of me and Candy while it's supposed to be 3 persons in a group for this project.&lt;br /&gt;And where's the third one?&lt;br /&gt;I think he's somehow dead or &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;evaporated &lt;/span&gt;in the air.&lt;br /&gt;It's alright if he just skipped a couple of meetings.&lt;br /&gt;But, hello, UNCLE, did you contribute a single thing?! I really really hate free riders.&lt;br /&gt;Come one, how old are you? TWO?&lt;br /&gt;Be responsible!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So now we need to get the filming started soon. I bet this group mate of mine is still very clueless about the whole project. I think it's better for him to &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;fly kite&lt;/span&gt; at home.&lt;br /&gt;Right now, I am busy with looking for the right casts and costumes.&lt;br /&gt;Oh yeah, the ad is to create top of mind awareness that the School of BA is launching a brand new course IBZ in 2009.&lt;br /&gt;Erm, I can't possibly post up our whole idea there. Too bad.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For the casts, we need&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1 male student as the Main Actor  (Found)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2 Caucasians as the Businessmen  (Found one, trying to ask Leann to ask the  very-hawt-looking Mr. Saul to help us. Personally, I'd love to have Jeremie Oudin in the ad. Yet, I only met him once?!)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1 Girl  as the SIA air stewardess (Outstanding)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1 Girl  as the Secretary                 (Outstanding)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So yup. Still scouting for the so-called talents.&lt;br /&gt;Hopefully, we can get everything done a.s.a.p.&lt;br /&gt;Oh shiat, I haven't come up with a new idea for the citibank ad. =x&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;_________________________________&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Met up with &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Beyotch &lt;/span&gt;on Monday.&lt;br /&gt;Never seen her being so troubled before. Gal, just don't get yourself hurt yeah.&lt;br /&gt;Shouldn't I be saying the same thing to myself?&lt;br /&gt;Oh, hell, I seriously have no idea.&lt;br /&gt;Gal, I just wanna say how much I miss you although we just met like a few days ago.&lt;br /&gt;Awwww I miss those days.&lt;br /&gt;Remember those days we talked about the boys we liked in high school and those sleepless nights we had and etc etc etc?&lt;br /&gt;I miss us.  Where the hell is Fion? She's been MIA for too long.&lt;br /&gt;Gals,&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; taim i ngra leat&lt;/span&gt;!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;By the way, Kylie Minogue is coming to town!!!!!&lt;br /&gt;Yet, I still haven't found someone to go to her concert with me yet. =(&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me       : Eh, Kylie Minogue is coming!!!&lt;br /&gt;Friend : Yeah, I know.&lt;br /&gt;Me       : Oh I wanna goooooo so badly. Are you going?&lt;br /&gt;Friend : No. She's too old for me. I don't listen to her music.&lt;br /&gt;Me       : ............................&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How I wish I am still in Shanghai.&lt;br /&gt;My boss, Macon, would definitely go to the concert with me.&lt;br /&gt;Coz we are both crazy about Kylie.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-style: italic;font-size:130%;" &gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Fever sure has got me good&lt;br /&gt;What you do when fever takes hold&lt;br /&gt;I can't help but need this drug&lt;br /&gt;Don't you feel the fever like I do&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1234638004052634026-3872795179434245605?l=jeanthedork.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jeanthedork.blogspot.com/feeds/3872795179434245605/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1234638004052634026&amp;postID=3872795179434245605' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1234638004052634026/posts/default/3872795179434245605'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1234638004052634026/posts/default/3872795179434245605'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jeanthedork.blogspot.com/2008/11/fever-current-mood-puzzled-theme-song.html' title=''/><author><name>The dork</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06367371835472193854</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-1234638004052634026.post-4635322790826649813</id><published>2008-10-29T00:09:00.004+08:00</published><updated>2008-10-29T00:20:25.138+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;font-size:130%;" &gt;Love at first sight&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Current mood :=)&lt;br /&gt;Theme song    : Love at first sight by Kylie Minogue&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;I don’t have the slightest why many people are in the &lt;i&gt;emo &lt;/i&gt;shit lately.&lt;br /&gt;It seems like the love bugs have stopped bugging them and they suddenly felt so out of place. Like what I mentioned previously, &lt;i&gt;emo&lt;/i&gt; faces are basically what I see in school everyday.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Friend E : So how can I get over her?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me          : Time heals. ( I know it’s probably the worst answer. Yet, it seems to be the best solution.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Friend E : You know, I took a year to get over someone whom I dated for about one month.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me          : Oh shit. You have been dating ******* for 8 months! So you are going to take 8 freaking years to get over her?!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh, Friend E actually went speechless after that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, friends, it is not gonna be easy. But, trust me, time heals.&lt;i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Been there. Done that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We often hold onto something because we fear that nothing that great will ever happen to us again.  That explains why many of us do not want to let go of a particular thing or even a relationship even when we ought to.&lt;br /&gt;And that also explains why I took a little while to get over J. It was not something I wanted to mention. Not in my freaking blog, especially. Well, since I have gotten over it completely,&lt;br /&gt;Why not?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Do you seriously believe in love at first sight?&lt;br /&gt;Crap?&lt;br /&gt;Personally, I do believe in that. At least, I experienced it once. And it happened in a mutual way! It was something rare actually. I mean how often does that happen in your life? If you are talking about one-night-stand, sorry, it is out of the topic. In fact, one-night-stand is purely about lust not love.&lt;br /&gt;Thus, I must say it is certainly one of the best memories I have ever had. I did not even expect to fall for someone when I was in Shanghai. I mean how could I? I was only having a freaking internship there for like 4 months?! It was absolutely not the smartest thing to do. Yet, it happened.&lt;br /&gt;All I know was that every possible Kylie’s song was playing in my head non-stop.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;font-size:130%;" &gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My baby  Doesn't matter what's going on or who's around us&lt;br /&gt;All I see is you&lt;br /&gt;Right now they're playing our song&lt;br /&gt;Dance floor is ours&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;All I see is you&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;            &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh yeah, the DJ was really playing my favourite song when I first met him.&lt;i&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It is “Because of you” by Ne-yo. Yup, it is an old song. But so what? It was the song I would request whenever I went clubbing in Shanghai.&lt;br /&gt;Whenever the DJ saw me in the club, he would surely say, “BECAUSE OF YOU!”&lt;br /&gt;And once the song was played, I would definitely scream. Haha.. I was indeed high. Queenie and the gang always laughed at me for that.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;font-size:130%;" &gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Want to, but I can't help it&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;font-size:130%;" &gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;I love the way it feels,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;font-size:130%;" &gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;It's got me stuck between my fantasy and what is real&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;font-size:130%;" &gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;I need it when I want it, I want it when I don't&lt;i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tell myself I'll stop everyday, knowin' that I won't&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Will we see each other again?” he asked.&lt;br /&gt;I must say he has the sweetest and cutest smile ever. And the most amazing thing is that he can speak mandarin! He even speaks it in a very cute way.  I still remembered when he made a double-line under my Chinese name and said, “It’s very important. I have to remember that.”&lt;br /&gt;“Do you actually believe in love at first sight?” I asked.&lt;br /&gt;“Yeah. I do.”&lt;br /&gt;I heard something about penguins. It says that it only takes 10 seconds for penguins to know if they fall for each other. I think we both definitely acted like two stupid penguins that night. Haha!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;font-size:130%;" &gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The way you walk&lt;br /&gt;The rhythm when you're dancing&lt;br /&gt;Every inch of you spells out desire&lt;br /&gt;You're such a rush&lt;br /&gt;The rush is never ending&lt;br /&gt;Now, you got it, you're wow, wow, wow, wow&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;i style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You got it; you're wow, wow, wow, wow&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Cold hands like yours need warm hands like mine."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He said that. They said it's merely some bullshits from guys. I don't care if that's just a trick but I was totally melted away. Calling me stupid or what. Yeah, it takes more than one night to understand each other. And it probably takes more than one night to know if it's just a lust.&lt;br /&gt;But time was running out. There's no point coz I had to leave the country anyway and he had a career there.  Hence, we both know that the little "chemistry" between us was not so strong that each party would want to sacrifice.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have no idea if he meant whatever he said or just trying to please me that night. Yet, I believe every single word he said.&lt;br /&gt;Will we see each other again? It was not just a matter of time. The destiny plays a big role here. If it's meant to be, we will.&lt;br /&gt;It was a beautiful night still. I am somehow glad that things did not work out eventually. Who knows what might happen and actually ruin the best night ever?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Isn’t it good enough that I had the best of it that night? Love at first sights does exist.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Does it last? It looks like my case does not work that way. Yet, I am sure it can last.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;I got a problem and I don't know what to do about it&lt;br /&gt;Even if I did, I don't know if I would quit but I doubt it&lt;/i&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;   &lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1234638004052634026-4635322790826649813?l=jeanthedork.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jeanthedork.blogspot.com/feeds/4635322790826649813/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1234638004052634026&amp;postID=4635322790826649813' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1234638004052634026/posts/default/4635322790826649813'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1234638004052634026/posts/default/4635322790826649813'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jeanthedork.blogspot.com/2008/10/love-at-first-sight-current-mood-theme.html' title=''/><author><name>The dork</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06367371835472193854</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-1234638004052634026.post-8163832030003281070</id><published>2008-10-22T17:33:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2008-10-22T22:30:54.923+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;font-size:130%;" &gt;I'll be ok&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;current   mood : Trying to be optimistic&lt;br /&gt;theme     song   : I'll be ok by Mcfly&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Another Mcfly's song.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;font-size:130%;" &gt;&lt;span class="txt_1"&gt;When everything is going wrong&lt;br /&gt;And things are just a little strange&lt;br /&gt;Cos' for so long now&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You've forgotten how to smile.&lt;br /&gt;And overhead the skies are clear&lt;br /&gt;But it still seems to rain on you,&lt;br /&gt;And your only friends all have&lt;br /&gt;Better things to do.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yup, no matter how bad the thing might turn up to be or it already is, just tell yourself,&lt;br /&gt;"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;font-size:130%;" &gt;I'LL BE OK!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;"&lt;br /&gt;I have no idea if it's bad or good to know that I am actually not alone and, in fact, others are actually facing the same kind of probs (more or less).&lt;br /&gt;Both Eugene and I found it was ridiculous when the both of us actually decided to slack in school and staring at the small youtube screen and feeling emo at the same.&lt;br /&gt;And one of the videos we watched was&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;font-size:130%;" &gt;That's why you go away by MLTR&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;Funny enough.&lt;br /&gt;What's up with us?!&lt;br /&gt;Come on, it's not the end of the world. Seriously, just move on, shall we?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The first two weeks of school were never good. The lectures suck enough.&lt;br /&gt;And the class sucks too.&lt;br /&gt;The lunch time was never fun.&lt;br /&gt;The truth is,&lt;br /&gt;we were not really eating when we were having our lunch. You got what I'm trying to say here?&lt;br /&gt;I realised that most of us tended to "space out" frequently.&lt;br /&gt;Basically, we just went to school with the sulky face. =(&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, what can I say? Let's stay optimistic, pals!&lt;br /&gt;One of the methods to stay optimistic and feel good about life is&lt;br /&gt;EXERCISING!&lt;br /&gt;Oh yeah , other than jogging, I think I fall in love with GYM as well.&lt;br /&gt;And I am joining aerobics class this Friday! Simply just can't wait.&lt;br /&gt;Oh please, Eugene, I don't go to gym to see guys okay! I am not that shallow please.&lt;br /&gt;Okie lah, I got abit distracted when I saw a hot and muscular hunk passed by.&lt;br /&gt;Haha.&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, I'd rather see "Shemale" in our class. Coz it's more entertaining. Ooooops =x&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Perhaps life is not really going according to the plans at this very moment.&lt;br /&gt;Yet, it is absolutely fine to have changes in our lives sometimes.&lt;br /&gt;Just bear with it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;font-size:130%;" &gt;&lt;span class="txt_1"&gt;When you're down and lost&lt;br /&gt;And you need a helping hand&lt;br /&gt;When you're down and lost&lt;br /&gt;Along the way,&lt;br /&gt;Try a little harder&lt;br /&gt;Try your best to make it&lt;br /&gt;Through the day&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh, just tell yourself&lt;br /&gt;I, I'll be OK&lt;br /&gt;I, I'll be OK&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Yes, we will be OK!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1234638004052634026-8163832030003281070?l=jeanthedork.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jeanthedork.blogspot.com/feeds/8163832030003281070/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1234638004052634026&amp;postID=8163832030003281070' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1234638004052634026/posts/default/8163832030003281070'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1234638004052634026/posts/default/8163832030003281070'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jeanthedork.blogspot.com/2008/10/ill-be-ok-current-mood-trying-to-be.html' title=''/><author><name>The dork</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06367371835472193854</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-1234638004052634026.post-6823404075279578920</id><published>2008-09-16T21:49:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2008-09-16T21:52:17.191+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Bubblewrap&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wish I could Bubble Wrap my heart,&lt;br /&gt;Incase I fall and break apart,&lt;br /&gt;I'm not God I can't change the stars,&lt;br /&gt;And I don't know if there's life on Mars,&lt;br /&gt;But I know you hurt,&lt;br /&gt;The people that you love and those who care for you, &lt;br /&gt;I want nothing to do with the things you're going through.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is the last time, &lt;br /&gt;I give up this heart of mine, &lt;br /&gt;I'm telling you that I'm, &lt;br /&gt;A broken man who's finally realized,&lt;br /&gt;You're standing in moonlight, &lt;br /&gt;But you're black on the inside, &lt;br /&gt;Whoo oo oo ooo&lt;br /&gt;Do you think you are to cry?&lt;br /&gt;This is goodbye. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm a little dazed and confused, &lt;br /&gt;Life's a bitch and so are you, &lt;br /&gt;All my days have turned into nights, &lt;br /&gt;Cos living without, without, without you in my life, &lt;br /&gt;And you wrote the book on how to be a liar,&lt;br /&gt;And lose all your friends, &lt;br /&gt;Did I mean nothing at all? &lt;br /&gt;Was I just another ghost that's been in your bed?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cos this is the last time, &lt;br /&gt;I give up this heart of mine, &lt;br /&gt;I'm telling you that I'm, &lt;br /&gt;A broken man who's finally realized,&lt;br /&gt;You're standing in moonlight, &lt;br /&gt;But you're black on the inside, &lt;br /&gt;Whoo oo oo ooo,&lt;br /&gt;Do you think you are to cry?&lt;br /&gt;This is goodbye. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yeah!&lt;br /&gt;Turn on the radio honey,&lt;br /&gt;Cos every single sad song you'll be able to relate!&lt;br /&gt;This one i dedicate&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Whoa oh!&lt;br /&gt;Don't get all emotional baby,&lt;br /&gt;You can never talk to me your unable to communicate! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is the last time, &lt;br /&gt;I give up this heart of mine, &lt;br /&gt;I'm telling you that I'm, &lt;br /&gt;A broken man who's finally realized...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is the last time, &lt;br /&gt;I give up this heart of mine, &lt;br /&gt;I'm telling you that I'm, &lt;br /&gt;A broken man who's finally realized,&lt;br /&gt;You're standing in moonlight, &lt;br /&gt;But you're black on the inside, &lt;br /&gt;Whoo oo oo ooo,&lt;br /&gt;Do you think you are to cry?&lt;br /&gt;This is goodbye. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is Goodbye &lt;img src="http://www.metrolyrics.com/images/l/2147436916.jpg" height="1" width="1" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1234638004052634026-6823404075279578920?l=jeanthedork.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jeanthedork.blogspot.com/feeds/6823404075279578920/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1234638004052634026&amp;postID=6823404075279578920' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1234638004052634026/posts/default/6823404075279578920'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1234638004052634026/posts/default/6823404075279578920'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jeanthedork.blogspot.com/2008/09/bubblewrap-i-wish-i-could-bubble-wrap.html' title=''/><author><name>The dork</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06367371835472193854</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-1234638004052634026.post-2805026208586053889</id><published>2008-09-15T22:07:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2008-09-15T22:10:15.952+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;p style="font-weight: bold;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;For a pessimist, I am pretty optimistic&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Current mood : I can hardly describe&lt;br /&gt;Theme song&lt;span style=""&gt;    &lt;/span&gt;: For a pessimist, I am pretty optimistic by Paramore&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Tipsy. Or drunk?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;After tasting 14 types of wines at the same time, I was not feeling right.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Okie, before you are gonna brand me as an alcoholic, I have to clarify something here.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;#1 - I have not been drinking that much. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;#2 -If that was not because of my current job, I don’t think I would even want to take a sip though I felt absolutely terrible. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;The last time I was drunk was like 3 months ago. Or more than that?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;I seriously have no idea. After that night, I swore to God that I’d never ever want to get so drunk …..&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;just because of a passerby. &lt;span style=""&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;For a pessimist, I am pretty optimistic. &lt;/i&gt;I guess so?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Friends thought that I was going to behave like what I did in the past. No worries, pals. I am not who I was. No more drinking. No more crying out loud. No more partying. Life goes on. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;Isolated. Alone. &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Sometimes, things just happen. Uncontrollably. Unexpectedly. &lt;span style=""&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;“ Am I not good enough? Or I can never be good enough?” I asked&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;“ No. You are good, nice, friendly, outgoing, funny……” &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;“But why?”&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;I think Ah Yuan was being a really sweet friend to convince me that I am actually a nice person but things just happened. Well, I am not being upset. Maybe I am. I don’t know. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;But I do know I am tired. Sick and tired. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Sick of being the best friend, the special friend, the joke, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Right now, I just wanna be myself.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1234638004052634026-2805026208586053889?l=jeanthedork.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jeanthedork.blogspot.com/feeds/2805026208586053889/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1234638004052634026&amp;postID=2805026208586053889' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1234638004052634026/posts/default/2805026208586053889'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1234638004052634026/posts/default/2805026208586053889'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jeanthedork.blogspot.com/2008/09/for-pessimist-i-am-pretty-optimistic.html' title=''/><author><name>The dork</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06367371835472193854</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-1234638004052634026.post-3892743252862627606</id><published>2008-09-09T21:31:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2008-09-09T23:51:24.934+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Photo&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Current mood: Oh-so-Ryan-Cabrera&lt;br /&gt;Theme&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;song&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;: Photo by Ryan Cabrera&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Okie, basically, &lt;a href="http://jeanthedork.blogspot.com/"&gt;http://jeanthedork.blogspot.com&lt;/a&gt; is still breathing. No worries, it ain’t dead since jean the new auntie is getting whinier about her life.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Oh damn, why on earth I actually admitted that I am an AUNTIE?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;But seriously, I feel &lt;i style=""&gt;OLD&lt;/i&gt;. &lt;span style=""&gt; &lt;/span&gt;Extremely old. &lt;span style=""&gt; &lt;/span&gt;My memory is a very good example.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I can actually keep asking the same thing or repeating the same thing over and over again. URGH.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Even my friends can hardly stand that.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;And I ain’t dead.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;It’s just that I feel more robotic than ever. Or rather, I live like a zombie everyday. Frankly, working as a 100% OL (Office Lady) certainly gets me. I know I should stop complaining about this. But being desk-chained is like, WOW, killing me. And leading a super boring and dull life as an adult is like, WOW, killing me too. Basically, I don’t feel good at all. Somehow, I miss Shanghai. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;I do enjoy working in my current company. In fact, it’s more challenging than the previous internship. It’s just that I feel like an A.D.U.L.T. &lt;span style=""&gt; &lt;/span&gt;Friends keep telling me that, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;“Oh my god, Jean, you are working like an adult! You are having tasks like an adult. And you are wearing office wear like an ADULT! “&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Yes, I know and I am an ADULT. Somehow, I am glad that I chose to have an internship instead of studying like a 100% geek in school. That is because I can finally picture how boring my life is gonna be in the near future. &lt;span style=""&gt; &lt;/span&gt;DUH. The truth is&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;working = no life. Yet, you can’t live without working.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;And that’s life! &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;The following is the daily schedule of Jean the boring OL:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;5.30 am – Mika is singing “Love Today” so loudly just to wake me up&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;5.40 am – Snooze&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;6.00 am – Snooze &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;It keeps snoozing, snoozing, snoozing till I realize it is&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span style="line-height: 115%;font-size:20;" &gt;6.50 am !!!&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span style="line-height: 115%;font-size:20;" &gt;OH FUCK! &lt;/span&gt;Why can’t I get up any earlier? Oh damn. Fuck. Shiiiiaaaaaat.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;So I just can’t stop swearing and cursing as if it can help me to get everything done any faster.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Then, I take about an hour to get everything done. Sometimes, it takes more than an hour. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Expectedly, I miss the bus and get myself late at work. Seriously, I think the worst employee award of the year belongs to me. How late can I be? Oh, I don’t think you wanna know.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;*Claps* &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Normally, I start my work at 9.30am. (Erm, if I am lucky enough to catch the bus on time. *ERHEM*)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;My robotic routine consists of checking emails, replying emails, making phone calls to the aussie vineyards, updating my supervisor what I have done so far and etc etc etc.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Oh yeah, chatting with my colleagues is one of them. Talking about the chit-chat session, I feel &lt;i style=""&gt;OLD&lt;/i&gt; too.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;For your information, I am the youngest in the office and I am sure that my fellow colleagues are well aware of this fact. Yet, there was once we (Eh, it’s not “we”. I did not really participate in that convo.) were talking about pregnancy thingy during lunch time and this auntie actually asked me something that I did not know how to answer. Apparently, she asked me something regarding the pregnancy issue.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;“…………………………is like that right, Jeanette?”&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;OH WHY SHE HAD TO ASK ME THAT?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;b style=""&gt;Instead of saying,&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;“Well, erm, I am 20 yet forever 17 at heart and never experience pregnancy. Apparently, you are a mother of two. Why don’t you tell me that?” &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;b style=""&gt;I said,&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;b style=""&gt;&lt;span style="line-height: 115%;font-size:12;" &gt;“H A H A H A. I don’t know &lt;i style=""&gt;leh&lt;/i&gt;”&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;So yeah. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Told ya, there wasn’t any interesting thing happened at my work place. UNTIL ONE DAY,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;I had a meeting with a super duper hot looking French guy. He’s just the blonde version of Adam Brody. Oh damn. He’s so sizzling hot that I would not know what’s gonna happen if I tried to lay a finger on him.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Okie, I’d probably melt away. Haha. &lt;span style=""&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;That’s the bad thing of having a meeting with a hot dude. You can hardly concentrate. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;But I was being really really really professional. Trust me.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Actually, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;I was thinking if it would be alright if we could hang out together. HAHA! Oh come on, I got to see so many pretty faces when I was working in the modeling agency. Hence, this absolutely couldn’t be something that I should get so excited about. I think this explains something.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Well, anyway, life gets even more boring after work.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Instead of having dinner, I choose to go jogging sometimes. I have stopped jogging for more than a month. It’s partly because of the &lt;i style=""&gt;ghost month&lt;/i&gt;. Superstitious, indeed. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Super duper auntie-ish me.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;11.00 pm – Getting ready to sleep and telling myself that I have to wake up at 5.30am no matter what.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;SO THAT’S ALL ABOUT MY CURRENT LIFE. INTERESTING, HUH?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;I think I really should blog about the internship I had in Shanghai. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Gosh, I miss my friends, especially J.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Shit, that’s another reason why I should give myself a big tight slap on the face.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Alright, I will continue the part 2 tomorrow.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;My stamina is bad. URGH.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1234638004052634026-3892743252862627606?l=jeanthedork.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jeanthedork.blogspot.com/feeds/3892743252862627606/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1234638004052634026&amp;postID=3892743252862627606' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1234638004052634026/posts/default/3892743252862627606'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1234638004052634026/posts/default/3892743252862627606'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jeanthedork.blogspot.com/2008/09/photo-current-mood-oh-so-ryan-cabrera.html' title=''/><author><name>The dork</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06367371835472193854</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-1234638004052634026.post-2129617842741007584</id><published>2008-07-24T10:40:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2008-07-24T10:43:33.028+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style=""&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;On my own&lt;/span&gt;&lt;b style=""&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Current mood : S-I-C-K&lt;br /&gt;Theme song&lt;span style=""&gt;     &lt;/span&gt;: On my own by The Used&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style=""&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;No, no, no, I’m not here to announce the &lt;i style=""&gt;death&lt;/i&gt; of jeanthedork.blogspot.com.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style=""&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;I know I have not been updating this blog for ages.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style=""&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;It’s probably because my life is getting more hectic and my friend, Mr. L, simply does not want to get out of my life. Oh you don’t know who Mr. L is? I’m sorry that I forgot to type out his full name.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style=""&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Mr. L = Mr. Laziness &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style=""&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;After saying goodbye to Shanghai, I started my second internship in a brand new working environment in Singapore. Initially, I thought this internship was gonna be dreary as I had to work in this non-fashion-related industry. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style=""&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Ok, call me Ms. Shallow. Yet, seriously, I am not the desk-chained type of person. Being desk-chained means you are sitting in front of your computer at your desk for 24/7 (Ok, 24/7 sounds a bit exaggerating.) and doing dreadful things like data-entry. I am absolutely not the data-entry person. Of course, I don’t mind doing that since I am just a little intern in the company. But, please, not all the time. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style=""&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Providentially, this internship is not as sucky as I thought it would be. I mean, how can you not to like your job when you get to taste all kinds of wines, liquors and spirits? Okie, it is not the main point why I really enjoy my current internship so much. And, secondly, how can you hate your job when you are asked to do something you really like? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;div  style="border-style: none none solid; padding: 0in 0in 1pt;color:-moz-use-text-color -moz-use-text-color windowtext;"&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="border: medium none ; padding: 0in;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;And one of my major tasks is to design a label for a premium wine. How cool is that? =)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="border: medium none ; padding: 0in;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;/div&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style=""&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;The more I see, the less I know.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style=""&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;How true.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style=""&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;4 months. It’s such a short period of time. Yet, I couldn’t help noticing some changes in some people. I am not sure if I’m being too pessimistic or they have really changed? Or they are originally being this way? Or I’m the one who has changed?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style=""&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;The changes scare me somehow. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style=""&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Basically, there are two types of acquaintances in life. The first type is friends and the second type is passersby. Friends stay. But passersby don’t. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style=""&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Often, some people are there to turn you down. You thought they might be your friends for life. However, it is really disappointing to find out they are not.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style=""&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Don’t get me wrong. I’m not referring to anyone here. It’s just a random thought of mine.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style=""&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Life can be real bad sometimes. Just Like someone said, “Life sucks.” &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style=""&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;What does not kill you makes you stronger.&lt;/i&gt; Though this is a super duper old cliché, it has become my philosophy of life.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style=""&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Oh yeah, I’m finally 20.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I used to say I’m not someone who plans for the sake of planning as plans normally don’t go my way. Now, I don’t see why I shouldn’t plan something for my life. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style=""&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;1. Backpacking (Err Europe? Not sure yet. Gotta save up for the trip first. CK’s experiences really impressed me. Leann and I both planned to backpack in year 2009. Is that year 2009? I can’t remember. Haha. Bitch, don’t ya ever forget our “Irish” dream! Ha.)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style=""&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;2. I wanna learn Japanese! You guys should know why. *Blinks*&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style=""&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;3. &lt;span style=""&gt; &lt;/span&gt;Gets myself into a design school after poly. I don’t care if my parents are gonna disapprove this time. They disapproved previously and I ended up with where I am now. I’m not saying that I’m not satisfied with what I am doing now. OK, YEAH, I ADMIT THAT I DON’T LIKE WHAT I AM DOING NOW. I didn’t fight till the end. Now, I feel so sorry for myself. It’s good to break the rules sometimes. If you never try, you’ll never know.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style=""&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;4. &lt;span style=""&gt; &lt;/span&gt;etc and etc and etc&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style=""&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Being 20 also means something to me. It means:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;b style=""&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style=""&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;1. being more responsible. I always do things impulsively. That explains why I am always in troubles. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style=""&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;2. I’m getting older and so is my memory. Yeah, my memory used to be so good that I could memorize a book. I tend to forget things now. Urgh. But I don’t know why I can’t seem to forget this mobile number. Yup, his number is most likely to be the only mobile number I could ever remember. He just suddenly disappeared. Perhaps he has already forgotten me? Another passerby, I guess.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style=""&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;3.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Throw-it-away-forget-yesterday. I am glad that I have finally picked myself up. Like I said, some people are there to bring you down. I think my closer friends know what I’m talking about here. Letting go was the hardest part.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;To this particular someone, I want to say, “Thank you.” Frankly, I never did so much for a guy before. I still remember how my friends were scolding me and telling me how stupid I was to go all the way to Changi just for his &lt;i style=""&gt;big day&lt;/i&gt;. I’m not sure if anyone of you would ever go for the extra mile when you were in love. I would.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style=""&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;4. etc and etc and etc&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style=""&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;And life still continues.&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1234638004052634026-2129617842741007584?l=jeanthedork.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jeanthedork.blogspot.com/feeds/2129617842741007584/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1234638004052634026&amp;postID=2129617842741007584' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1234638004052634026/posts/default/2129617842741007584'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1234638004052634026/posts/default/2129617842741007584'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jeanthedork.blogspot.com/2008/07/on-my-own-current-mood-s-i-c-k-theme.html' title=''/><author><name>The dork</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06367371835472193854</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-1234638004052634026.post-5004253787898677322</id><published>2008-07-02T10:01:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2008-07-02T10:28:19.065+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Over my head&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;current mood: sleepy&lt;br /&gt;theme   song  : Over my head by the Fray&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think I can doze off anytime soon. Yet, I am at work now! URGHHHHH.&lt;br /&gt;Traveling from Bukit Timah all the way to Kaki Bukit is really, well,&lt;br /&gt;EXHAUSTING.&lt;br /&gt;And waking up at 5.30 am every morning kills me.&lt;br /&gt;Shit. Now, I just can't stop yawning. *YAWNS*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and erm , *yawns*, I have a proposal to rush. =(&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1234638004052634026-5004253787898677322?l=jeanthedork.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jeanthedork.blogspot.com/feeds/5004253787898677322/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1234638004052634026&amp;postID=5004253787898677322' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1234638004052634026/posts/default/5004253787898677322'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1234638004052634026/posts/default/5004253787898677322'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jeanthedork.blogspot.com/2008/07/over-my-head-current-mood-sleepy-theme.html' title=''/><author><name>The dork</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06367371835472193854</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-1234638004052634026.post-9217309830505523187</id><published>2008-06-27T22:31:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2008-06-27T23:41:06.754+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;The Kill&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;current  mood : -&lt;br /&gt;theme    song   : The Kill by 30 seconds to Mars&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So it's just my luck.&lt;br /&gt;If it's meant to be this way, I just have to live with that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Once an opportunity is gone, it's gone forever.&lt;br /&gt;That's why I believe in grabbing every chance in life.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1234638004052634026-9217309830505523187?l=jeanthedork.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jeanthedork.blogspot.com/feeds/9217309830505523187/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1234638004052634026&amp;postID=9217309830505523187' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1234638004052634026/posts/default/9217309830505523187'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1234638004052634026/posts/default/9217309830505523187'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jeanthedork.blogspot.com/2008/06/kill-current-mood-theme-song-kill-by-30.html' title=''/><author><name>The dork</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06367371835472193854</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-1234638004052634026.post-4304914447931915828</id><published>2008-06-18T00:00:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2008-06-18T00:02:07.994+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;I don’t wanna miss a thing&lt;br /&gt;Current mood : heartache&lt;br /&gt;Theme  song   : I don’t wanna miss a thing by Aerosmith&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I drafted an entry a week ago. Yet, I was too lazy to complete it.&lt;br /&gt;So I just decided to leave it there.&lt;br /&gt;A week later, everything changed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The theme song wasn’t “I don’t wanna miss a thing” by Aerosmith.&lt;br /&gt;And “Heartache” ?&lt;br /&gt;I was going to blog about how excited I was and how much I miss you guys and I couldn’t wait to go home and why I was so head-over-heels lately.&lt;br /&gt;Okie, not that head over heels actually. Erm maybe “Smitten” is the word? I have no idea.&lt;br /&gt;Mum called me just now and told me what was going on.&lt;br /&gt;“We all think he can’t make it. Brought him to the vet just now. Yet, we are so sorry that he’s too old to go under an operation. He’s just old.”&lt;br /&gt;“It looks like he’s waiting for you to go home though.”&lt;br /&gt;“Yeah, I know… Is he leaving soon?”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know he’s dying right now and probably waiting for me to go home.&lt;br /&gt;Baby, you know you can’t leave me like that. Not now.&lt;br /&gt;Not before I can get the chance to call your name again,&lt;br /&gt;Not before I can smell your little head and tell you how much I miss you,&lt;br /&gt;Not before I can see you eating your favourite peanuts,&lt;br /&gt;Mum said you barely eat now, not even when you have your favourite peanuts.&lt;br /&gt;Not now baby, just not now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Babe, I know you can make it. Didn’t the vet say you are such a miracle?&lt;br /&gt;I know you are.&lt;br /&gt;You know you are not merely an ordinary hamster.&lt;br /&gt; And you are more powerful than the so-called powerful Pikachu.&lt;br /&gt;You will not be so senile that you can’t even recognize my face, will ya? =)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Frankly, I am not being myself lately.&lt;br /&gt;Listening to “Stolen” by Dashboard Confessional over and over again.&lt;br /&gt;But it can’t seem to help me out at all. Maybe I am just thinking too much.&lt;br /&gt;I miss you.&lt;br /&gt;Is it for real or maybe? But I do miss you.&lt;br /&gt;And that’s for real.&lt;br /&gt;Crush? Nah, I would say it’s more than just a crush.&lt;br /&gt;I wish I were Ken. Or can I be Ken?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1234638004052634026-4304914447931915828?l=jeanthedork.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jeanthedork.blogspot.com/feeds/4304914447931915828/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1234638004052634026&amp;postID=4304914447931915828' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1234638004052634026/posts/default/4304914447931915828'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1234638004052634026/posts/default/4304914447931915828'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jeanthedork.blogspot.com/2008/06/i-dont-wanna-miss-thing-current-mood.html' title=''/><author><name>The dork</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06367371835472193854</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-1234638004052634026.post-3850525505888208382</id><published>2008-05-29T18:08:00.005+08:00</published><updated>2008-06-01T23:57:31.016+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Brighter than sunshine&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;current   mood : adored&lt;br /&gt;theme     song  : brighter than sunshine by aqualung&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;FIRST OF ALL,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;OEI, the &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;font-size:130%;" &gt;impostor&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt; MR. FISHTANK, please do not simply use "MR-FISHTANK " just because you think it's fun?! Do you know IT'S SUCH A SERIOUS OFFENSE?&lt;br /&gt;Ah yuan,was that you? Or Eugene? Or Chin Woo?Okie, whoever it is, please don't do that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, I feel so good about my new life and being the new me. and VICTOR, tell you what,&lt;br /&gt;it's gonna stay this way. I won't get myself into shits anymore.&lt;br /&gt;Please do mark my words.&lt;br /&gt;Someone told me that he's disappointed to know that I actually chose to drink when I was feeling low.Well, that WAS me.&lt;br /&gt;And why was I feeling low? I don't think I should elaborate on that.&lt;br /&gt;That was something happened in the past and I do not dwell in my past.&lt;br /&gt;So yeah.&lt;br /&gt;MOVE ON MOVE ON, SHALL WE?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why Mr Fishtank? Ok, this has something to do with one of my favourite movies.&lt;br /&gt;I think I once mentioned about this movie in cherubcherub.&lt;br /&gt;So in this movie,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;font-size:130%;" &gt; &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Head Over Heels&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;, there was this girl named Amanda Pierre.&lt;br /&gt;Literally, she and I share something in common.&lt;br /&gt;She had the world's worst judgment in guys and she never failed to fall for the wrong ones.&lt;br /&gt;She fell for a homo,  a guy who cheated on her with a supermodel, a guy preferred a girl with bigger boobies and a guy did not want a commitment.&lt;br /&gt;And me?I fell for a gay, oh yeah, I did, and I was the last person to know,&lt;br /&gt;a guy cheated on me with another girl(definitely not a supermodel), a guy did not want a&lt;br /&gt;serious relationship, and WORST of all,&lt;br /&gt;I dated a guy who broke up with me just because I did not want to have sex with him.&lt;br /&gt;Yeah, pathetic, I know.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then, one day, she finally met Mr. Fishtank.&lt;br /&gt;Awwww I think most of the girls would have melted away when they saw Freddie Prinze Jr's smile. *Drools*&lt;br /&gt;Okie, okie, back to the story, why Mr.Fishtank?&lt;br /&gt;ER HEM.....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;BECAUSE&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Can't you go and get a dvd by yourself?! Of course, I don't mind lending you the dvd,&lt;br /&gt;BUT,&lt;br /&gt;it can't work that well now coz I have watched it too many times.&lt;br /&gt;Uncountable, I should say.&lt;br /&gt;Haha. It's just a long story, anyway.&lt;br /&gt;And laziness dominates my life, remember?&lt;br /&gt;Well, of course, Mr. Fishtank was not someone perfect.&lt;br /&gt;After all the hassles and stuff, they finally got together.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;-THE END-&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Haha isn't it an interesting synopsis? Ha!&lt;br /&gt;I'm sorry, guys. Please get a dvd or google this movie. I'M SUCH A LAZY BUM AND I'M SO PROUD TO ADMIT THAT.&lt;br /&gt;Talking about Mr. Fishtank's smile, I did meet someone with a smile like that before.&lt;br /&gt;Someone with the cutest smile.&lt;br /&gt;I guess some of you may know whom I am talking about here. Yeah,&lt;br /&gt;a guy with a oh-so-common name. Yup, that's him.&lt;br /&gt;A guy who turned me into a racist. NAH &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;no&lt;/span&gt;, I'm just kidding.&lt;br /&gt;I AM NOT A RACIST. Just that, well you know, sometimes, I am afraid of getting into a relationship with a *BEEEEEP* guy.&lt;br /&gt;Let me repeat this once again, RACISM AIN'T MY THING. Just that, well,&lt;br /&gt;OKIE I SHOULD SHUT UP.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I told Candy about this movie and she said,&lt;br /&gt;" Babe, isn't this cool? You are gonna meet your Mr.Fishtank like Amanda did!"&lt;br /&gt;" Oh yeah, I might."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In the past, I would just say ," No no no no, I am sooooooo gonna be a spinster for the rest of my life and blah blah blah blah."&lt;br /&gt;and the story would continue with how pathetic I was gonna be when I was old and senile,&lt;br /&gt;feeding a big black cat in a super duper old apartment and when I died accidentally, no one was gonna notice that, until,&lt;br /&gt;that big black cat of mine started to have the idea of feeding himself by eating my corpse up.&lt;br /&gt;Yet, now, instead of telling my friends about the spinsterhood story, I will say, "Oh yeah, I will just go with the flow."&lt;br /&gt;In fact,&lt;br /&gt;life is so much easier when you just let the nature takes its course.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Shao En a.k.a Mr Bad-hair-day, perhaps letting go seems to be the hardest part now.&lt;br /&gt;Time is all it takes. Soon enough, you will know how to handle it.&lt;br /&gt;Just hang in there, dude!&lt;br /&gt;Oh yeah, don't call me &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;DUDE&lt;/span&gt;, okie.&lt;br /&gt;I'm not a dude, you idiot. Haha.&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, just remember this, if it is meant to be, it is gonna happen no matter what.&lt;br /&gt;I know how corny this sounds. But this is the fact! Face it!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Is it so hard to move on?&lt;br /&gt;I DON'T THINK SO.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1234638004052634026-3850525505888208382?l=jeanthedork.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jeanthedork.blogspot.com/feeds/3850525505888208382/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1234638004052634026&amp;postID=3850525505888208382' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1234638004052634026/posts/default/3850525505888208382'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1234638004052634026/posts/default/3850525505888208382'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jeanthedork.blogspot.com/2008/05/brighter-than-sunshine-current-mood.html' title=''/><author><name>The dork</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06367371835472193854</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-1234638004052634026.post-3789821060851878168</id><published>2008-05-24T14:49:00.004+08:00</published><updated>2008-05-24T23:05:21.678+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;font-size:130%;" &gt;Beautiful Disaster&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;current  mood : oh-so-giddy&lt;br /&gt;theme    song   : Beautiful Disaster by Jon McLaughlin&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The previous blog of mine is really dead this time. I'm not gonna use it anymore.&lt;br /&gt;Not even once.&lt;br /&gt;Hence, www.cherubcherub.blogspot.com is finally &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;font-size:130%;" &gt;deceased&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Life has been the same. And I'm pretty much the same Jeanette Kong as ever.&lt;br /&gt;Just that some parts of me are changing. Mentally, of course.&lt;br /&gt;How do you solve your problems when you, yourself, are the root of all your problems?&lt;br /&gt;This is something I would like to ask myself.&lt;br /&gt;I've eventually realized that I am not just flawed but problematic as well.&lt;br /&gt;Some of you must have noticed that a long time ago. And many of you have warned me about that.&lt;br /&gt;Okie, I just really hate to say, " Oh damn, you are so right about me!"&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, it's never too late to wake up, right?&lt;br /&gt;"You need to grow up, you know?No one is gonna clean your shits for you. Be responsible!"&lt;br /&gt;Yeah, I heard that.&lt;br /&gt;I've always thought I was moving on. Yet, I was actually going no where.&lt;br /&gt;Even my Mum asked me to grow up. Okie, it's really embarrassing to type this out.&lt;br /&gt;But yeah, she's right.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And, finally, finally, I came up with a conclusion after analyzing my problems.&lt;br /&gt;Well, it's not just a conclusion. A solution as well.&lt;br /&gt;I know I always liked to ask, "Why do I always meet assholes?"&lt;br /&gt;Leann, I know you are probably gonna say, " Assholes are just meant for you!"&lt;br /&gt;Okie, shut up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;                                                                                                                                 &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;font-size:130%;" &gt;ANSWER&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;: &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;font-size:130%;" &gt;I was always being &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;extraordinarily&lt;/span&gt; naive. And I was the one who brought those jerky assess into my life firstly.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So technically, I should stop complaining. Why was I always so unlucky in my love life?&lt;br /&gt;Because I chose it. So when things went wrong, I shouldn't blame on anyone.&lt;br /&gt;In fact, I was to blame for all these.&lt;br /&gt;Okie, how could I even expect such thing to last anyway?&lt;br /&gt;He probably never meant to be the one. I thought he's gonna be different.&lt;br /&gt;I thought it was gonna be different. Undeniably, these thoughts of mine are just, well, NAIVE.&lt;br /&gt;Come on, what was I thinking?&lt;br /&gt;Why would I think that he's even serious?&lt;br /&gt;"Jean, you are not a 2-year-old kid, ok?He's just trying to get you into his bed! Idiot."&lt;br /&gt;Yeah, yeah, yeah, you guys are absolutely right. He's just another guy, I assume.&lt;br /&gt;Oh please, where did I meet him huh? At a fucking club.&lt;br /&gt;Now, I am making a fool of myself here. Firstly, why those so-called-not-too-bad-yet-might-have-the-slightest-chance-to-turn-&lt;br /&gt;into-an-asshole&lt;br /&gt;would want to chill at clubs?!&lt;br /&gt;Okie, what I'm trying to say is why would people like geeks would want to go to the clubs?&lt;br /&gt;Nah no, I'm not saying that I like geeks here. Well, geeks are not bad. But not too geeky.&lt;br /&gt;Oh damn, what am I talking about?!&lt;br /&gt;"Don't go to the clubs if you are looking for a serious relationship. Go to the right place to meet the right guy! " Friends say.&lt;br /&gt;I have to make myself clear here.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Truth #1&lt;br /&gt;I would never want to look for anyone in a club. Not even a stupid fling.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Truth #2&lt;br /&gt;I don't like to go clubbing. I am serious. DEAAAAAAAAAAD SERIOUS here. I know, you guys must be shouting ,"LIAR!"  Yet, honestly, I don't like it. Never. I will only do that when I am feeling low. Ok, it's a super duper wrong choice. Therefore, no more clubbing! What I'm gonna do when I'm feeling low next time? JUST SLEEP!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Truth #3&lt;br /&gt;ONE-NIGHT-STAND?! NO WAY.  I do have my own principle here. I am open-minded yet conservative at the same time. By the way, what the hell is wrong with being still a virgin at my age?HUH?HUH?HUH? HELLO?! Oh male creatures, I just don't give in &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;font-size:130%;" &gt;that&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt; easily. I just don't do that for the sake of doing that. Of course, there's gonna be an exception. But only when I meet the right and special one. When will that be? 20 years later? or it's not gonna happen at all? Well, I don't care. All I know is if he happens to be the right one, he will not just leave me because I refuse to have sex with him. DUH.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To prevent myself from getting into shits again, I ought to be rational. Be realistic.&lt;br /&gt;and Mr. Fishtank? I'm going with the flow now.&lt;br /&gt;Even if he only exists in the outer space, I know somehow somewhere I am gonna find him.&lt;br /&gt;Coz I am sure he shines brighter than sunshine.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1234638004052634026-3789821060851878168?l=jeanthedork.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jeanthedork.blogspot.com/feeds/3789821060851878168/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1234638004052634026&amp;postID=3789821060851878168' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1234638004052634026/posts/default/3789821060851878168'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1234638004052634026/posts/default/3789821060851878168'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jeanthedork.blogspot.com/2008/05/ho.html' title=''/><author><name>The dork</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06367371835472193854</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>
