<?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-8725547191180223081</id><updated>2011-12-27T13:12:58.976-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Behold - The Thing That Reads Alot</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://idontbelieveinhomework.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8725547191180223081/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://idontbelieveinhomework.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><link rel='next' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8725547191180223081/posts/default?start-index=101&amp;max-results=100'/><author><name>estherrr.</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_LgI256BCd-w/SO6VKtbVAJI/AAAAAAAAABg/CpOxttWmX9k/S220/five.JPG'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>205</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8725547191180223081.post-3422456976471301900</id><published>2009-09-13T06:41:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-09-13T06:57:47.687-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The One Where It's Time</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_LgI256BCd-w/Sqz4hPgQesI/AAAAAAAAAJk/is03_-SlrPw/s1600-h/DSC01806.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_LgI256BCd-w/Sqz4hPgQesI/AAAAAAAAAJk/is03_-SlrPw/s400/DSC01806.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5380948904782101186" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;have moved. the URL is &lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153);"&gt;www.idontbelievein&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 153, 153);"&gt;(the opposite of caffeine)&lt;/span&gt;.blogspot.com&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;i've had this blog since i was 16 and i'm not in need of change really, i just reeeally want zero archives backed up every time i want to write something new. those posts were from such a long time ago and i'm no longer that person anymore. i've kept a lot of the things that i love about this blog&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 153, 153);"&gt; (basically the whole layout i slaved over)&lt;/span&gt; and added in one or two new things. to those who already have the link, it's not done yet k! :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;g'bye&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153);"&gt; idontbelieveinhomework.blogspot.com&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_LgI256BCd-w/Sqz4muyR95I/AAAAAAAAAJs/7RkLakjqMtM/s1600-h/DSC01808.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_LgI256BCd-w/Sqz4muyR95I/AAAAAAAAAJs/7RkLakjqMtM/s400/DSC01808.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5380948999078541202" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;toothbrushes,&lt;br /&gt;estherbobester.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 153, 153);"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;some things just won't change&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/8725547191180223081-3422456976471301900?l=idontbelieveinhomework.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://idontbelieveinhomework.blogspot.com/feeds/3422456976471301900/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8725547191180223081&amp;postID=3422456976471301900' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8725547191180223081/posts/default/3422456976471301900'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8725547191180223081/posts/default/3422456976471301900'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://idontbelieveinhomework.blogspot.com/2009/09/one-where-its-time.html' title='The One Where It&apos;s Time'/><author><name>estherrr.</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_LgI256BCd-w/SO6VKtbVAJI/AAAAAAAAABg/CpOxttWmX9k/S220/five.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_LgI256BCd-w/Sqz4hPgQesI/AAAAAAAAAJk/is03_-SlrPw/s72-c/DSC01806.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8725547191180223081.post-3224114259445435313</id><published>2009-08-18T08:37:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-18T09:01:27.703-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The One With The Wheezing Ball Of Chubbs</title><content type='html'>earlier, with much enthusiasm, i thought, hey why not skip rope for a half hour? i can't keep talking about the weight i gained after all.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;15 minutes later, i'm limping wtf.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;this, ladies and gents, is the perfect specimen of what happens when you don't exercise for over 6 months. it's too late for me but save yourselves.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;....................................................&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i have a shitload of work to do. i don't know how i'm gonna even be able to design my new blog in time &lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 153, 153);"&gt;(actually more like pimping the current one lah)&lt;/span&gt; before break ends.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;....................................................&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;y'know, i could've posted all of this on Twitter. if i had one. but no i shan't give in, shan't i tell you! wtf.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;...................................................&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dorian Gray is not a good book for kiddos like me. it makes me feel all eeevil. and if i didn't do research on the stuff the book is based on, i'd literally think that Wilde is telling us to quit controlling ourselves and go hump whatever we want. and, don't go near ugly people because they can't be any good for you. and, women are just supplements for men.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i bet if Wilde were alive today, he'd just be another gay fashion designer who says crap like,&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 153, 153);"&gt; 'If you ain't a size zero, honey - you're a heffer.'&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;Like Mark on Ugly Betty.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;...................................................&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;but then again, some of the things he says is true. like how 'acting is so much more real'. when you watch a movie, the actors play their characters absolutely - they don't skimp on emotions and they mean what they say. but that's cos they're not playing themselves.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;then in real life, when you meet people - be it acquaintances or close friends - everyone's wearing layers and layers of masks to hide themselves that we may as well be the ones on stage instead.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;.................................................&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ohnoes i might have H1N1! but whatever lah if i'm meant to die now then die lah lol i remember when SARS first came about, Jun-Elle and i promised that if either one of us got it, we would cough &amp;amp; sneeze in the other's face so we'll both have it wtf. let's hope H1N1 will be like SARS i am too young to die, too young i tell you! wtf.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;okay, back to work. :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8725547191180223081-3224114259445435313?l=idontbelieveinhomework.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://idontbelieveinhomework.blogspot.com/feeds/3224114259445435313/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8725547191180223081&amp;postID=3224114259445435313' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8725547191180223081/posts/default/3224114259445435313'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8725547191180223081/posts/default/3224114259445435313'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://idontbelieveinhomework.blogspot.com/2009/08/one-with-wheezing-ball-of-chubbs.html' title='The One With The Wheezing Ball Of Chubbs'/><author><name>estherrr.</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_LgI256BCd-w/SO6VKtbVAJI/AAAAAAAAABg/CpOxttWmX9k/S220/five.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8725547191180223081.post-689289398593898836</id><published>2009-08-15T10:00:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-15T11:01:53.516-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The One With Blue &amp; White China</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_LgI256BCd-w/Sobr_6wJJyI/AAAAAAAAAJc/ntT4NAcRcq0/s1600-h/1234.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 302px; height: 400px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_LgI256BCd-w/Sobr_6wJJyI/AAAAAAAAAJc/ntT4NAcRcq0/s400/1234.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5370239089021364002" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0); font-style: italic;"&gt;hullo, long time no see!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i shall be moving my blog! soon. sometime this week. because i've got the whole week off. college has been real hectic the past two weeks thank God the break is here. it's only been a month and yet I've found another Yasogee to battle with -.- but shan't go on about that, it's over and I'm satisfied with everything now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;anyway, short summarized updates :&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;okay lah Kar Heng, English &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;is&lt;/span&gt; hard.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;se-rious-ly-can-kill. well technically, i'm taking Lit but it's really hard. i got my learning skills report and i got A for everything but English. not that i deserve an A cos to get an A in that class i'd have to be super good. which i'm not fml.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;i like tests!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;for Families and Math lah. for English, no.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;I GAINED WEIGHT, SHIT.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;first Derrick says my face got chubbier and now everything else did too.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;ignorant people, if you're preaching about something where you don't even have firsthand experience on, just &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;don't&lt;/span&gt; preach about it.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;it pisses me off when i have to talk to people who think CIMP/ICPU is supershiteasy. for the last time, easy to pass but difficult to score - like everything else. you know what, come do it yourself and see how &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;easy&lt;/span&gt; it is. quit spraying spit all over other people's decisions cos i happen to be proud that i didn't take the typical routes and nothing you say is going to change that. Veena was right, it's so frustrating to talk to you. but it's okay, we'll &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;show&lt;/span&gt; you how wrong you are. gonna be one hell of a slap in the face for trying to undermine me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;culture shock.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;things are very different now. i'm friends with people who are very different from what i'm used to (i don't have any friends from an SMK school) and it's teaching me a lot. but at the same time, i miss speaking broken Engrish. sigh. it's so bad to the extent that when i hear a CIMP student speak in a Cina accent, i feel all awkward and just don't talk much.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Student Council.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i hear this sem is not as happening as the last one and it's got to be true cos i didn't expect this out of CIMP. during the first theme day, i walked around with a flower in my hair for the first period then took it off when no one else seemed to have anything on (it was Wear-Something-On-Your-Head Day). but i'm glad i ran for Secretary anyway. i just feel very bad cos i kept missing a lot of things for my assignments and presentations and i feel even worse when i run into my President cos he looks all discouraged. i think i got it reeeeal easy back in school cos here it's way harder when the board is made up of a variety of people. but! if i have the time, i want to do more than kickass minutes. ;)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Big Lump.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i see him everyday but it's almost as if i see him less. i think because when we were apart, we text all day long. and also, i used to tell him about stuff from work but now it'd be about classes and my brilliant English teacher - which he doesn't like hearing about wtf they're all very interesting okay! plus now that we're in college together, it's usually only texts about the parking ticket and car keys lol. then weekends i feel bad for spending time with him cos we saw each other everyday in the week. haih have to start dating once a week ade.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i miss my Big Lump. :(&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;will post one last post before moving blog! it'll be the clue to the new one, it's gonna be another thing idontbelievein. but when i told Veena and Karven and Jits and Kar Heng, they didn't get it so yeah. i'll prolly let just the people i link know. bubye for now and to some, bubye for good :D&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8725547191180223081-689289398593898836?l=idontbelieveinhomework.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://idontbelieveinhomework.blogspot.com/feeds/689289398593898836/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8725547191180223081&amp;postID=689289398593898836' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8725547191180223081/posts/default/689289398593898836'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8725547191180223081/posts/default/689289398593898836'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://idontbelieveinhomework.blogspot.com/2009/08/one-with-blue-white-china.html' title='The One With Blue &amp; White China'/><author><name>estherrr.</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_LgI256BCd-w/SO6VKtbVAJI/AAAAAAAAABg/CpOxttWmX9k/S220/five.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_LgI256BCd-w/Sobr_6wJJyI/AAAAAAAAAJc/ntT4NAcRcq0/s72-c/1234.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8725547191180223081.post-7255075005220505842</id><published>2009-07-30T07:03:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-30T07:18:33.919-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The One With Our 27th Monthaversary</title><content type='html'>because we are so nauseatingly cheesy like that. this month i expected the usuals when our monthaversary rolled by. for me to remember and him to forget and when i nagnagnag that he doesn't care anymore!/that he's such a pig!/that he has no romance left in him! - he will giggle like a girl over the phone and make up one of his epic lame excuses &lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 153, 153);"&gt;(that i actually like hearing cos it gets more and more ridiculous over the years wtf)&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;so i was shocked when i got in the car on Tuesday morning and he handed me a bouquet of pink roses. and and what's even better is that, i wanted to do something for him too. cos i know the past few weeks have been difficult for him having to see me everyday and wait for me and tolerate me being such a girl &lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 153, 153);"&gt;(being late, losing parking ticket, being very late)&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;except, all i wanted was to tapau his fav chicken rice for his break.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;he gets roses, i get chicken rice. damn romantic. -.-&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and based on the reaction i got parading my roses around all day, my friends have a superbly high tolerance for cheesiness. i just never appreciated it, you guys are so awesome! &lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 153, 153);"&gt;*sniff*&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;but yea. cos my friends at college were gagging so hard they were ready to make me eat the roses just so i'd die and the cheesiness would end wtf.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i got Secretary! :D&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8725547191180223081-7255075005220505842?l=idontbelieveinhomework.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://idontbelieveinhomework.blogspot.com/feeds/7255075005220505842/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8725547191180223081&amp;postID=7255075005220505842' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8725547191180223081/posts/default/7255075005220505842'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8725547191180223081/posts/default/7255075005220505842'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://idontbelieveinhomework.blogspot.com/2009/07/one-with-our-27th-monthaversary.html' title='The One With Our 27th Monthaversary'/><author><name>estherrr.</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_LgI256BCd-w/SO6VKtbVAJI/AAAAAAAAABg/CpOxttWmX9k/S220/five.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8725547191180223081.post-4318521436726577759</id><published>2009-07-22T06:00:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-22T06:25:30.700-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The One With Ewwy Here &amp; There &amp; Everywhere</title><content type='html'>hullo, everybodeh!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;it's been about 3 weeks since college started and there was something i've been meaning to talk about but because it's shit embarrassing, i didn't want to until i absolutely had to in hopes that it will go away by the time i had to. yea.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;see, before college - heck prob before SPM even - everyone was talking 'bout how they were scared they wouldn't make any friends at college. and i remember thinking, ah i'll be okay. especially after JAK started and everyone did fine. Jun-Elle even got exactly what i wanted, all guy friends only. so it couldn't be that hard right?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;aand of course, i got dealt the worst cards and seriously, after the first week - i was so sure i was doomed. not that i didn't talk to anyone, Lord knows i tried. but i found it hard and unnatural most of the time and i couldn't click just like &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;that&lt;/span&gt; with anyone. and what's worse Din had to babysit me alot lol sorry to his friends who had to have me tag along during breaks.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;but it's all good now :) and i didn't get all-guy friends like i wanted but the people i've found so far are really whoa. like whoa. yea, &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;whoa&lt;/span&gt;. wtf.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;everything in the classroom is going alright except maybe for math. i don't know how to explain why it sucks balls but it's probably due to having Derrick for two years and i'm not used to a math teacher being so um, different. total opposite of Derrick. my lecturer is no Yasogee but at the same time i don't want to do anything in class 'cept sit in the corner and do all my work because if i followed every step i'd probably fall into a deep sleep and nevar wake up wtf.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i've a quiz tomorrow &lt;span style="color: rgb(192, 192, 192);"&gt;(see, when i should be studying i blog instead)&lt;/span&gt; and i'm running for Student Council Secretary gahaha! Gahaha cos i'm only running because there's apparently no one else running wtf  haha. i decided against it at first cos i'm having a hard time juggling my work &lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 153, 153);"&gt;(okay lah i procrastinate like shit)&lt;/span&gt; but then went back on board. i wonder why nobody wants to be Secretary though. i worked like a dog but it was worth the eyebags and caffeine addiction. so Esther for Secretary and oh oh - Karven for PRESIDENT! die lah we's gonna be setting our campuses on fire lol.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;shall leave things at that and hopefully i'll get pictures from somewhere to post up. superdork out.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8725547191180223081-4318521436726577759?l=idontbelieveinhomework.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://idontbelieveinhomework.blogspot.com/feeds/4318521436726577759/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8725547191180223081&amp;postID=4318521436726577759' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8725547191180223081/posts/default/4318521436726577759'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8725547191180223081/posts/default/4318521436726577759'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://idontbelieveinhomework.blogspot.com/2009/07/one-with-ewwy-here-there-everywhere.html' title='The One With Ewwy Here &amp; There &amp; Everywhere'/><author><name>estherrr.</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_LgI256BCd-w/SO6VKtbVAJI/AAAAAAAAABg/CpOxttWmX9k/S220/five.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8725547191180223081.post-6438168710664647988</id><published>2009-07-18T22:55:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-18T23:09:54.428-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The One With Sighsighsigh</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_LgI256BCd-w/SmK3X1-3u0I/AAAAAAAAAJU/QOrKLaKtRDQ/s1600-h/shorties.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 292px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_LgI256BCd-w/SmK3X1-3u0I/AAAAAAAAAJU/QOrKLaKtRDQ/s400/shorties.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5360048126779964226" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_LgI256BCd-w/SmK3PJ75qdI/AAAAAAAAAJM/C0sLXslS3bc/s1600-h/minis.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 391px; height: 400px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_LgI256BCd-w/SmK3PJ75qdI/AAAAAAAAAJM/C0sLXslS3bc/s400/minis.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5360047977517394386" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;this, is the product of the 3 hours i spent on my math assignment. i think i know why alot of students procrastinate with homework in this course. especially if it's math. because it's STUPID.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i swear to God, if i have to keep answering stupidly and not based on facts and logic, i'm gonna go insane.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;but other than that, college has been interesting. i regret quite a bit not going for ICPU now but can't do anything about that. ah well.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8725547191180223081-6438168710664647988?l=idontbelieveinhomework.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://idontbelieveinhomework.blogspot.com/feeds/6438168710664647988/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8725547191180223081&amp;postID=6438168710664647988' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8725547191180223081/posts/default/6438168710664647988'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8725547191180223081/posts/default/6438168710664647988'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://idontbelieveinhomework.blogspot.com/2009/07/one-with-sighsighsigh.html' title='The One With Sighsighsigh'/><author><name>estherrr.</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_LgI256BCd-w/SO6VKtbVAJI/AAAAAAAAABg/CpOxttWmX9k/S220/five.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_LgI256BCd-w/SmK3X1-3u0I/AAAAAAAAAJU/QOrKLaKtRDQ/s72-c/shorties.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8725547191180223081.post-7225003156962560175</id><published>2009-07-11T22:30:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-11T22:42:30.842-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The One With My Fav MadTV Skit</title><content type='html'>for Fuzzlightyear :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;object width="340" height="285"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/jZkdcYlOn5M&amp;amp;hl=en&amp;amp;fs=1&amp;amp;border=1"&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/jZkdcYlOn5M&amp;amp;hl=en&amp;amp;fs=1&amp;amp;border=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="340" height="285"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8725547191180223081-7225003156962560175?l=idontbelieveinhomework.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://idontbelieveinhomework.blogspot.com/feeds/7225003156962560175/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8725547191180223081&amp;postID=7225003156962560175' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8725547191180223081/posts/default/7225003156962560175'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8725547191180223081/posts/default/7225003156962560175'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://idontbelieveinhomework.blogspot.com/2009/07/one-with-my-fav-madtv-skit.html' title='The One With My Fav MadTV Skit'/><author><name>estherrr.</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_LgI256BCd-w/SO6VKtbVAJI/AAAAAAAAABg/CpOxttWmX9k/S220/five.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8725547191180223081.post-5862513810589833332</id><published>2009-07-11T20:32:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-11T20:50:49.375-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The One With Biceps For Sho At The End Of The Semester</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;First Day &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;walked around aimlessly cos i arrived an hour early. not cos i'm an eager loser, but because Big Lump's class starts at 8 while orientation only starts at 9. skipped 3/4 of orientation cos was scared to have to eat alone so went to eat with Big Lump and his friends T.T&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;after lunch, went for English Placement Test. then went home.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Second Day &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;CIMP orientation. kept an eye out for potential lecturers. hottest lecturers were the ones teaching Individuals &amp;amp; Families hehe. plagiarism was mentioned often. basically, we're not allowed to copy and paste stuff off the net and present it as work of our own. i can think of a handful of people i know who effing needs this bashed into their heads.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Third Day&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;got timetable. was happy cos i got Eng4U. regretted it soon enough when our lecturer told us we're gonna be doing Hamlet and we'll have to pick a classic and do a thesis on it for our ISU. hence, Dorian Gray is on my reading list cos i wanna do my thesis on it but he said many students struggle when they choose that novel. if it's really too hard then i'll switch but as of now, i quite like it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;the characters have a dark, evil feel to them and it's awfully captivating! no idea why i'm so attracted to shit like this. big difference to all the pink, girly stuff i like to read.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Fourth Day&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;changed timetable. my classes end earlier, start earlier so when i come at 8 i won't have to wait around with nothing to do. but my classes are super far apart so every morning it'll be like cardio back and forth between classes lol. all lecturers for all my classes are now white woohoo.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Fifth Day&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;spent an hour hunting for Dorian Gray, One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest &lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 153, 153);"&gt;(couldn't find it) &lt;/span&gt;and Mrs. Dalloway. hid them so Big Lump could use Jason's library card to borrow them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;as of now :&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Math : easiest class.&lt;br /&gt;English : most difficult class.&lt;br /&gt;Individuals &amp;amp; Families : class i'm most likely to neglect.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8725547191180223081-5862513810589833332?l=idontbelieveinhomework.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://idontbelieveinhomework.blogspot.com/feeds/5862513810589833332/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8725547191180223081&amp;postID=5862513810589833332' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8725547191180223081/posts/default/5862513810589833332'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8725547191180223081/posts/default/5862513810589833332'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://idontbelieveinhomework.blogspot.com/2009/07/one-with-biceps-for-sho-at-end-of.html' title='The One With Biceps For Sho At The End Of The Semester'/><author><name>estherrr.</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_LgI256BCd-w/SO6VKtbVAJI/AAAAAAAAABg/CpOxttWmX9k/S220/five.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8725547191180223081.post-433339911191724252</id><published>2009-07-04T23:19:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-04T23:47:40.049-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The One With Hatin' On The Club</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 18px; font-family: trebuchet ms;font-family:'Trebuchet MS';font-size:100%;"  &gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 51, 204);"&gt;This is called 50 first reactions. Type what comes to your mind first whenever you hear these 50 words. Don't think and don't go back and change. Doesn't matter how random, just type it!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. Beer :&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"&gt; yuck.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. Food : T.T weight gain!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. Relationships : complicated.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4. Crush : old school.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5. Power Rangers : are awesome!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;6. Life : is a beetch.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;7. The President : don't care.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;8. Yummy : Chilis' Lamb Shoulder gaaah.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;9. Cars : still don't know how to drive.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;10. Movie : still haven't watched Transformers! T.T&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;11. Halloween : sexy nerd costume that never happened.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;12. Sex : hehehe.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;13. Religion : Jesus.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;14. Hate : must learn to deal.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;15. Fear : phailure.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;16. Marriage : scariest shit ever. everyone gets hyped up for the wrong reasons. what happens after the honeymoon huh? what happens when you get pregnant? when you get fat? when he gets fat? when you get STRETCHMARKS HUH!&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 153, 153);"&gt; *sob*&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;17.Blondes : Agyness Dean.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;18. Slippers : comfy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;19. Shoes : need flats asap.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;20. Asians : are yellow like the Simpsons :D&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;21. Past time : reading books i stole off the net.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;22. One night stand : ALVEENA.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;23. My cell phone : looks expensive but is actually veli cheap wan.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;24. Smoke : Big Lump is forbidden to! Lol.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;25. Fantasy : Final Fantasy wtf.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;26. College : AAAAAAAAAAH 95% AVERAGE.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;27. High school life : good riddance whee!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;28. Pajamas : don't need 'em gahaha. ;P&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;29. Stars : are blind.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;30. Center : centre. shit which one is position which one is the place? O.O&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;31. Alcohol : all the same, all tastes like cough syrup.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;32. The word love : is getting boring. ergo now we have invented - wuff/woof/lurve/luff/loff/lurff/wuv/luv.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;33. Friends : i've watched every episode!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;34. Money : &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 18px; font-family: trebuchet ms;font-family:'Trebuchet MS';font-size:100%;"  &gt;AAAAAAAAAAH.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;font-size:100%;" &gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 18px; font-family: trebuchet ms;font-family:'Trebuchet MS';font-size:100%;"  &gt;&lt;br /&gt;35. Heartache : tell me whyyy, ain't nothin' but a mistake, tell me whyyy, ain't nothin' but heartacheee. correct right?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;36. Time : to studay! yay no more becoming stupid!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;37. Divorce : half of everything.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;38. Dogs : CORGIS!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;39. Undies : lace.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;40. Parents : freedom.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;41. Babies : weight gain! stretch marks! post-natal blues! must go gym! cravings! zoey.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;42. Ex : -tuition teacher.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;43. Song : where's my Hotel Room huh, DJ? stupid. hope your eardrums burst.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;44. Color : cream.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;45. Weddings : white sundress, nachos, beach, sandcastles.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;46. Pizza : Din.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;47. Hangout : no more :(&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;48. Rest : too much.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;49. Goal : too many.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;50. Inspiration : Snowmannn. :D&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i tag everybodeh!&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/8725547191180223081-433339911191724252?l=idontbelieveinhomework.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://idontbelieveinhomework.blogspot.com/feeds/433339911191724252/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8725547191180223081&amp;postID=433339911191724252' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8725547191180223081/posts/default/433339911191724252'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8725547191180223081/posts/default/433339911191724252'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://idontbelieveinhomework.blogspot.com/2009/07/one-with-hatin-on-club.html' title='The One With Hatin&apos; On The Club'/><author><name>estherrr.</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_LgI256BCd-w/SO6VKtbVAJI/AAAAAAAAABg/CpOxttWmX9k/S220/five.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8725547191180223081.post-4962756475239507345</id><published>2009-07-04T22:39:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-07T03:02:00.810-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The One Where Somebody Got Her Hair Did!</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_LgI256BCd-w/SlA84OcFV_I/AAAAAAAAAJE/JQslYBKCPFc/s1600-h/IMG_0756.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_LgI256BCd-w/SlA84OcFV_I/AAAAAAAAAJE/JQslYBKCPFc/s400/IMG_0756.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5354846893589747698" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0); font-style: italic;"&gt;woo lansiface!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;the past two weeks have been really good, mostly cos i kept myself busy everyday till i'm not sure i did what when but i really needed it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;college starts tomorrow! i'm more terrified than excited now and after so many complications to actually get myself into CIMP &lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 153, 153);"&gt;(and there're still more complications left haih)&lt;/span&gt;, it feels a little surreal that tomorrow is actually gonna be my first day. at college. where i can study again T.T&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;it's gonna be alot of pressure on me and it's not just getting the grades &lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 153, 153);"&gt;(95% average 95% average 95% AVERAGE omg can throw social life away already lah)&lt;/span&gt;, but other things as well. i'm just gonna jump into it headfirst and hope something good happens later and Din has been a very good babysitter every time bad news pop up. just wish they didn't have to pop up so often. but what doesn't kill you makes you stronger :/&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ah and i cut my hair! shortest it's ever been and i look 10 years older but i reeally like it! finally no more hair tickling me chin and i can't curtain my face no more. :D&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i shall leave everyone with my current fave video!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;&lt;object width="340" height="285"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/WhwbxEfy7fg&amp;amp;hl=en&amp;amp;fs=1&amp;amp;border=1"&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/WhwbxEfy7fg&amp;amp;hl=en&amp;amp;fs=1&amp;amp;border=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="340" height="285"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8725547191180223081-4962756475239507345?l=idontbelieveinhomework.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://idontbelieveinhomework.blogspot.com/feeds/4962756475239507345/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8725547191180223081&amp;postID=4962756475239507345' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8725547191180223081/posts/default/4962756475239507345'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8725547191180223081/posts/default/4962756475239507345'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://idontbelieveinhomework.blogspot.com/2009/07/one-where-somebody-got-her-hair-did.html' title='The One Where Somebody Got Her Hair Did!'/><author><name>estherrr.</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_LgI256BCd-w/SO6VKtbVAJI/AAAAAAAAABg/CpOxttWmX9k/S220/five.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_LgI256BCd-w/SlA84OcFV_I/AAAAAAAAAJE/JQslYBKCPFc/s72-c/IMG_0756.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8725547191180223081.post-9133745160394398069</id><published>2009-06-22T19:35:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-27T00:05:00.377-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The One With No New Shiny To Play With?</title><content type='html'>i've got 2 days left of work. i thought i'd spend my last few days working a little harder.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_LgI256BCd-w/SkW7mQTcHsI/AAAAAAAAAIk/d3_f6jSTUIQ/s1600-h/funny-dog-pictures-the-game-is-over.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_LgI256BCd-w/SkW7mQTcHsI/AAAAAAAAAIk/d3_f6jSTUIQ/s400/funny-dog-pictures-the-game-is-over.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5351889998085627586" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_LgI256BCd-w/SkW7zQy8ybI/AAAAAAAAAIs/r_nHw2dqtGc/s1600-h/funny-dog-pictures-dog-cleans-your-dirty-peanut-butter-jar.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_LgI256BCd-w/SkW7zQy8ybI/AAAAAAAAAIs/r_nHw2dqtGc/s400/funny-dog-pictures-dog-cleans-your-dirty-peanut-butter-jar.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5351890221556091314" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_LgI256BCd-w/SkW8ED4kSbI/AAAAAAAAAI0/OzUG6083l0Q/s1600-h/cute-puppy-pictures-loldogs-cant-opin-is.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 310px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_LgI256BCd-w/SkW8ED4kSbI/AAAAAAAAAI0/OzUG6083l0Q/s400/cute-puppy-pictures-loldogs-cant-opin-is.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5351890510147766706" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_LgI256BCd-w/SkW-Z3_22CI/AAAAAAAAAI8/f2ZLvMJS2YM/s1600-h/cuuute.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 313px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_LgI256BCd-w/SkW-Z3_22CI/AAAAAAAAAI8/f2ZLvMJS2YM/s400/cuuute.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5351893083937495074" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;obviously, i phailed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;but lookit them corgis! eee so cute i want one T.T&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8725547191180223081-9133745160394398069?l=idontbelieveinhomework.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://idontbelieveinhomework.blogspot.com/feeds/9133745160394398069/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8725547191180223081&amp;postID=9133745160394398069' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8725547191180223081/posts/default/9133745160394398069'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8725547191180223081/posts/default/9133745160394398069'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://idontbelieveinhomework.blogspot.com/2009/06/one-with-no-new-shiny-to-play-with.html' title='The One With No New Shiny To Play With?'/><author><name>estherrr.</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_LgI256BCd-w/SO6VKtbVAJI/AAAAAAAAABg/CpOxttWmX9k/S220/five.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_LgI256BCd-w/SkW7mQTcHsI/AAAAAAAAAIk/d3_f6jSTUIQ/s72-c/funny-dog-pictures-the-game-is-over.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8725547191180223081.post-6571600037638896790</id><published>2009-06-20T21:23:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-20T22:15:01.316-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The One With OD on Lookbook</title><content type='html'>feeling brill this morning :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i wannanana :&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. do a self-portrait of self. with a twist.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. hunt for white oversized butterfly/batwing top and print a Twiggy on it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. force friends to &lt;span style="color: rgb(192, 192, 192);"&gt;(again)&lt;/span&gt; get stuff from OKBA with me because i want everything thereee.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4. actually use DeviantArt account and upload comic strips.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5. cut off more hair. add a streak of color to fringe. maybe something common like aurburnish-red or chocolatey brown. maybe something crazy like violet or ashblonde. like the Big Lump said, no one's gonna take me seriously since i'm gonna be doing CIMP anyway. might as well make the most of it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;check out - &lt;a href="http://www.mymilktoof.blogspot.com/"&gt;My Milk Toof&lt;/a&gt;, cutest blog everevervever!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8725547191180223081-6571600037638896790?l=idontbelieveinhomework.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://idontbelieveinhomework.blogspot.com/feeds/6571600037638896790/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8725547191180223081&amp;postID=6571600037638896790' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8725547191180223081/posts/default/6571600037638896790'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8725547191180223081/posts/default/6571600037638896790'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://idontbelieveinhomework.blogspot.com/2009/06/one-with-od-on-lookbook.html' title='The One With OD on Lookbook'/><author><name>estherrr.</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_LgI256BCd-w/SO6VKtbVAJI/AAAAAAAAABg/CpOxttWmX9k/S220/five.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8725547191180223081.post-9164914849951863224</id><published>2009-06-19T21:53:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-19T22:22:10.068-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The One Where There Is No Need To Be Hostile No More</title><content type='html'>yesterday, i daydreamed at my desk waiting for work to come to me. i looked over at all the letters that were going to be mailed out today. mail. i thought about how i love getting mail. the wait, the suspense. like the time i waited for my first necklace to come in the mail. then the bigger batch of necklaces from Korea to come in the mail. then my scholarship offer letter to come in the mail. e-mail is never going to be able to replace regular mail, i thought.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;then it hit me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ladies and gents, i have found my dream. one i am going to make come true not because it's gonna make me lots of money or because it's a practical one. i'm gonna do it cos it's going to make me happy, so happy that - i really don't care if i fail. no longer am i going to walk around an aimless blob of potential. coming to this, isthebestfeelingever.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;"&gt;don't&lt;/span&gt; store your dreams as just dreams. they deserve better. so -&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_LgI256BCd-w/Sjxw9Y0hdWI/AAAAAAAAAIc/OI_vbVuoU6g/s1600-h/IMG_0743.png"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_LgI256BCd-w/Sjxw9Y0hdWI/AAAAAAAAAIc/OI_vbVuoU6g/s400/IMG_0743.png" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5349274657346385250" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;- why don't you do somethin'?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8725547191180223081-9164914849951863224?l=idontbelieveinhomework.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://idontbelieveinhomework.blogspot.com/feeds/9164914849951863224/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8725547191180223081&amp;postID=9164914849951863224' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8725547191180223081/posts/default/9164914849951863224'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8725547191180223081/posts/default/9164914849951863224'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://idontbelieveinhomework.blogspot.com/2009/06/one-where-there-is-no-need-to-be.html' title='The One Where There Is No Need To Be Hostile No More'/><author><name>estherrr.</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_LgI256BCd-w/SO6VKtbVAJI/AAAAAAAAABg/CpOxttWmX9k/S220/five.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_LgI256BCd-w/Sjxw9Y0hdWI/AAAAAAAAAIc/OI_vbVuoU6g/s72-c/IMG_0743.png' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8725547191180223081.post-8297946420876825714</id><published>2009-06-16T21:51:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-20T21:46:17.392-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The One With The Long To-Do List</title><content type='html'>last night i finally got to try out Paddington's House of Pancakes :) it has been quite frustrating, since i always seem to suggest that place for dinner and everyone's all,&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);"&gt; 'pancakes for dinner? nah-uh.'&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;but i am proud to report that that place is ideal for breakfast, lunch and dinner or for no reason at all cos they have probably every combination in the world possible. we spent ages looking at the pretty pictures in the huge menu &lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 153, 153);"&gt;(we only got one to share cos two wouldn't've fit the table that's how fat it is)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://img32.imageshack.us/img32/5081/64264599.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://img32.imageshack.us/img32/5081/64264599.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt; &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;The &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-weight: bold;"&gt;Full Monty&lt;/span&gt;, mine.&lt;/span&gt; which was like a little bit of everything - sausages, eggs, mashed potatoes&amp;amp;gravy, pepperoni, bacon, baked beans and pancakes, but i chose it cos it has guacamole and i haven't tried it before. it's the lump of green all the way up north.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://img30.imageshack.us/img30/484/81556692.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://img30.imageshack.us/img30/484/81556692.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;The Capri&lt;/span&gt;, his. Seafood Marinara pizza but on a pancake.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://img221.imageshack.us/img221/9213/87981187.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://img221.imageshack.us/img221/9213/87981187.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-weight: bold;"&gt;chips&lt;/span&gt;. that tasted oddly like soapwater, dunnowhy. we didn't finish this cos we were late for our movie and used it as the rubbish bowl instead, Din dumped his prawn shells in 'em.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;very good place for good food without setting your wallet on fire. :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;..........................................................&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;To-Do List For The 5-day Break Before Coll Starts&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. get outfit finished for Promtay - just a mask and tights.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. spend a whole afternoon at Borders reading comics.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. finish the first season of True Blood. not recommended for those who think sex is ewwy lol.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4. buy shoes, bag, stationery, shorts, and tees for coll.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5. decorate folders with dinosaursss.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;6. go over to BSC and try out the Stuff Your Face cafe. always wanted to try their cupcakes :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;7. write out new quarterly budget for expenses.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;8. watch Monsters Vs. Aliens, Terminator, and something Girlfriend Past.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;9. spend a Saturday morning at the Curve's flea market and checking out all the li'l stores in Cineleisure then take a break at Baskin-Robbins and people-watch over icecream.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;10. hunt down clothes that are sold at blogshops and Telawi stores for over double the real price at Times Square and Sungei Wang just cos they're selling shit thinking everyone's as stupid as the ignorant brats who shop there.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;11. drop by every Starbucks that i pass to check if any of their flasks are actually nice. if there is, buy! if there isn't, buy! okay no lah. i'll buy the mug instead.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;12. nap with Big Lump&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 153, 153);"&gt; (new petname nyehehe)&lt;/span&gt; at least once. don't get to this often anymore :(&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;13. get KarHeng's present &lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 153, 153);"&gt;(which is just a box big enough to fit his sister in. no not the tiny one we camwhore with all the time, the bigger one he looooooves sho much)&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;14. try out Frontera at JayaOne.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;15. haircut? haircut! i dunno...if i cut again, this time, it's gonna be &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;very&lt;/span&gt; short. yea i think i will. maybe add a streak of color on my fringe too. :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;16. catch up with the oldest friend i have. everyday. till he's sick of me and curses himself for writing on my wall making me feel guilty for not having talked to him for so long wahaha.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;17. PLAY SIMS 2/3 TILL I PASS OUT.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;18. clean up room, throw out SPM books &lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 153, 153);"&gt;(if anyone wants just ask cos i'm desperate to get rid of 'em)&lt;/span&gt;, clear out all books except my favourites &lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 153, 153);"&gt;(Archies, Meg Cabot, Harry Potter, Twilight, why am i so mainstream and unoriginal)&lt;/span&gt; and make way for new ones.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;19. force myself to sit down and seriously think about all the stuff i've to get ready for the business i will one day &lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 153, 153);"&gt;(i will get it off the ground no matter what) &lt;/span&gt;unleash on everyone, hopefully, in 2-3 years' time. ;)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;20. register for CIMP.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;have a great weekend everyone and happy birthday to Cassie :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8725547191180223081-8297946420876825714?l=idontbelieveinhomework.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://idontbelieveinhomework.blogspot.com/feeds/8297946420876825714/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8725547191180223081&amp;postID=8297946420876825714' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8725547191180223081/posts/default/8297946420876825714'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8725547191180223081/posts/default/8297946420876825714'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://idontbelieveinhomework.blogspot.com/2009/06/one-with-long-to-do-list.html' title='The One With The Long To-Do List'/><author><name>estherrr.</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_LgI256BCd-w/SO6VKtbVAJI/AAAAAAAAABg/CpOxttWmX9k/S220/five.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8725547191180223081.post-1686256963856436952</id><published>2009-06-13T22:01:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-13T22:44:41.582-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The One With Running Barefoot</title><content type='html'>love - this is that thing, y'know - the one everyone's all hyped about. it's electricity when two people touch, where every scene is fit for a movie, butterflies in your tummy, flowers for no special occasion, lots and lots of sucking face.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;wuff - this is what you get when you finally become yourselves and still find each other beautiful. not easy at all to come to and it seems like a constant battle to not get caught up in the small stuff that don't matter. but when your other half does something funny or silly or sweet, like call and ask if he can pack back the salad at dinner and have you eat it cos he doesn't like salad, you laugh and know it's worth it.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8725547191180223081-1686256963856436952?l=idontbelieveinhomework.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://idontbelieveinhomework.blogspot.com/feeds/1686256963856436952/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8725547191180223081&amp;postID=1686256963856436952' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8725547191180223081/posts/default/1686256963856436952'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8725547191180223081/posts/default/1686256963856436952'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://idontbelieveinhomework.blogspot.com/2009/06/one-with-running-barefoot.html' title='The One With Running Barefoot'/><author><name>estherrr.</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_LgI256BCd-w/SO6VKtbVAJI/AAAAAAAAABg/CpOxttWmX9k/S220/five.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8725547191180223081.post-2132577831789405640</id><published>2009-06-06T00:26:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-06T00:51:05.368-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The One With Magic Cards &amp; Shiny Playthings</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://img520.imageshack.us/img520/1820/image003api.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 400px;" src="http://img520.imageshack.us/img520/1820/image003api.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://img146.imageshack.us/img146/4189/image004i.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 400px;" src="http://img146.imageshack.us/img146/4189/image004i.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 0, 0); font-style: italic;"&gt;new flu pill for the sniffles - reading comics+coffee+cinnamon rolls at Borders.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;..........................................................................&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;this week :&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. was one of the most productive weeks i've had in a while.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Monday - Times Square with Jun-Elle; got a pair of houndstooth/plaid shorts that i absolutely looove; got grey muumuu; supposedly lostKrispy Kreme virginity till i remembered on the way home that i've had it with Jun-Elle before when i slept over ages ago.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tuesday - Bangsar with Karven and Cassie and her friends; night ended unexpectedly.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;Wednesday - spent whole night rolling at Butthead's lol. i don't like ACCA. i've heard, &lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);"&gt;'sorry i have exammmmss' &lt;/span&gt;too many times!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thursday - went to get hair cut. Butthead picked me up and said there was no difference at all. was emo because got difference okay! and the guy who did it this time followed my sketch (yes i sketch out my hairstyle) waay better than all the other hairstylists i've gone to.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Friday - D'Haven with JAKE HA and Jits and KarHeng.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;aand i did all that after work. no wonder i've been so cranky from not sleeping early. i've got another busy week ahead but i don't mind cos i'll have great company with the Butthead finishing his exams on Monday ;)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;..........................................................................&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;i wonder why i took the trouble to build all these walls. the worst that could've happened was being seen as i am. huh.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8725547191180223081-2132577831789405640?l=idontbelieveinhomework.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://idontbelieveinhomework.blogspot.com/feeds/2132577831789405640/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8725547191180223081&amp;postID=2132577831789405640' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8725547191180223081/posts/default/2132577831789405640'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8725547191180223081/posts/default/2132577831789405640'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://idontbelieveinhomework.blogspot.com/2009/06/one-with-magic-cards-shiny-playthings.html' title='The One With Magic Cards &amp; Shiny Playthings'/><author><name>estherrr.</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_LgI256BCd-w/SO6VKtbVAJI/AAAAAAAAABg/CpOxttWmX9k/S220/five.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8725547191180223081.post-3918216888112798802</id><published>2009-05-31T23:30:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-01T02:21:06.791-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The One With The Tummy Tuck</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://img192.imageshack.us/img192/7253/bqcdaaaaawodanbnaaaabc5j.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 400px;" src="http://img192.imageshack.us/img192/7253/bqcdaaaaawodanbnaaaabc5j.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(153, 0, 0);"&gt;finally, the big splurge.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;really disappointed at the amount of stuff i went home with on Saturday but i suppose that means i have to spend the following Saturdays looking for what i want nyehehe.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;although i'm very proud of us, covering 3 places in a day. Sunway turned out to be the best. Telawi is full of garbage. i pity the rich girls who actually shop there thinking they're buying one-of-a-kind pieces when i saw so many dresses you can get at Times Square for like 30 bucks going for 60 instead. so not worth it. -.-&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mid Valley was okay but didn't find what i was hoping for. ho hum.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;after shopping for so long on Saturday i've learned that :&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. you may think when you set out looking for something, it'd be exciting to find it. but i realized what's even more exciting is - finding what you want&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; in your size. &lt;/span&gt;you have NO idea how happy i was when i found my white tees in my size&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 153, 153);"&gt; *weeps* &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. girls shop like soldiers keeping alert during war. our eyes would be all over the place, trying to hunt down what we want and we'll be talking to each other the whole time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. i am officially a sellout. i used to be quite persistent on not going to Starbucks often cos what it is is overpriced coffee. but by the time we went to Telawi, i was mumbling, let's go Starbucks and we did and we stayed there for over an hour sipping overpriced coffee happily wtf.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;.........................................................................&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;okay so the past week i've watched all the X-Men movies and Wolverine has made me get to know myself better. like now i know why when i walk down the streets i'll find one guy hot and another as interesting as taufoo.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. i like guys who're fuzzy. as in hairy but not like gorilla hairy. y'know, like Wolverine hairy lah. so if i see a guy who's as hairy as Dr. Evil's cat i'd probably not notice him at all lol.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. i like guys who resemble animals of the canine variety. if you see Din after a few days of not shaving, you will see he resembles a puppy. if you see him a few more days after that, you will see he resembles a stray dog wtf hahaha.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. i like guys who are um not skinny. skinny, scrawny, thin all cannot. the only boy in my life who i respect absolutely and is a flagpole is JitSiang. everybody else i find it hard to take them seriously hahaha. plus it's difficult to hug and since i've an obsession with my size die lah if my boyfriend is skinnier than me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4. oh oh and i looove the whole macho-on-the-outside-sweet-and-dorky-on-the-inside-thing. see, this is why Din dreads having me in the same college cos i will destroy his image muahaha.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;as you can see, i am such a deep person wtf.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;.........................................................................&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;today, i officially handed in my resignation. my boss came skipping up to me &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 153, 153);"&gt;(okay lah he didn't he stomps most of the time)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt; and asked,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt; &lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 0, 0);"&gt;'you're going back to school ah?'&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt; with the biggest smile on his face i've seen since i started working here i think he's damn glad i'm leaving fml. ah well his loss and it's not my fault everytime he passes me stuff i've typed with corrections and i can't read his squiggly handwriting so i end up just making new mistakes hahaha.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;so in the past 2 months i've tasted 'working life' and i've learned :&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;1. nobody reads your Sijil Berhenti Sekolah - the one with your attendance - they only look at your SPM results slip. by the time they reach that useless piece of shit that used to scare me &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 153, 153);"&gt;(cos i skipped over 2 months of school ehehe)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt; in my book of certs, they're too impressed already hahaha. so kids who are still stuck at school, if you feel school is only stifling your academic brilliance just skip school and study at home lah.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;2. i am the loner. and it is the best one to be! on my first day, my superior asked me to have lunch with the other colleagues and i said no thankyou it's okay and i've been having lunch alone everyday since and it's reeally good to have the place all quiet to unwind. plus i'd rather watch TV on the computer than talk to anyone lol wah damn antisocial but no big deal lah i'm the youngest one and the first day i stepped in with my nose piercing they looked at me like i tattooed Spongebob on my face okay.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;3. to keep my eyes only on the computer screen. see, there's this guy in the office whose ass is huge. and not good huge. it's like how when a skinny girl gets breast implants waaay too big for her body except this one is in the ass. and this guy tucks his shirt in his pants. so memang i already know it's big but one time he was wearing these awful pants that made his ass look &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;lumpy&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;. so i looked lah. and he turned around and i think he saw cos from always being surly emo whenever i ask him something now he always smiles at me haih nice one Esther.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;4. to never ever eat what everyone else is eating. i can so see why people gain weight during their 20's cos everyone eats rice and fast food and the root of all evil - nasi lemak.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;5. being hardworking doesn't get you much except your boss not hating you. cos there are a few people here who you can see they're soo into their work but for some reason they aren't that alert they always make mistakes and end up taking even longer to rectify them.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;i haven't been stressed in like 6 months. SPM seriously screwed me up. once i remember being at Derrick's and i didn't want to go home but i did anyway cos it was 6 and it wouldn't be safe to take a cab when it was dark. once i got home, i opened my Sejarah book cos i knew i had to study but i couldn't and i just started bawling like a baby cos i wanted to be anywhere but home cos when i'm at home, i've to study.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;woo was crazy stressful, feeling so trapped. but now i'm gonna go back to that and it's scaring meeee.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;ah well. no choice anyway. i chose this so gonna give it my all. okay finish crapping already. i'm a little late but good luck to everyone who's facing finals ;)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8725547191180223081-3918216888112798802?l=idontbelieveinhomework.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://idontbelieveinhomework.blogspot.com/feeds/3918216888112798802/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8725547191180223081&amp;postID=3918216888112798802' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8725547191180223081/posts/default/3918216888112798802'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8725547191180223081/posts/default/3918216888112798802'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://idontbelieveinhomework.blogspot.com/2009/05/one-with-tummy-tuck.html' title='The One With The Tummy Tuck'/><author><name>estherrr.</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_LgI256BCd-w/SO6VKtbVAJI/AAAAAAAAABg/CpOxttWmX9k/S220/five.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8725547191180223081.post-4165839063112282728</id><published>2009-05-26T18:20:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-26T18:54:57.745-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The One With The Call, The Package &amp; The Virtual People</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;The Virtual People :&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;my computer's fixed! i can play my Sims 2 again! do my bidding, my minions!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;The Package :&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;the necklaces from Korea have arrived! &lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 153, 153);"&gt;*flaps arms excitedly*&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;The Call :&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;yesterday, i called Sunway to bug them about the scholarship i applied for &lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 153, 153);"&gt;(hello hello interview when ah)&lt;/span&gt;. the very nice woman said she'll call me back cos she was busy. i was sure she wasn't gonna call back and i knew i was doomed to be stupid for the rest of my life. but she did call. and she told me Nanyang was gonna send me a letter offering me the scholarship. i was like, what! but i haven't gone for an interview yet! she said, no there's no interview i can see you are really keen &lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 153, 153);"&gt;(desperate)&lt;/span&gt; as you've called many times. she laughed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;CIMP JULY INTAKE BITCHES!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i'm absolutely over the whole 'slacker course' perception everyone has cos Karven has gone into ICPU and she's turning out to be a fine young woman wtf haha okay not exactly she's actually a boy &lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 153, 153);"&gt;(have you seen her show the inside of her mouth when it's full?)&lt;/span&gt; gahaha just kidding let's go bum this Saturday&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 153, 153);"&gt; (your very last free Saturday O.O)&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt; lol&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; but it's definitely the kind of course i can see myself thriving in, given how i nearly died from Malaysian education where you just memorize your books. i'm a little terrified though. ISUs sound shitcrazyhard.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i'm a bit emo they don't have Challenge and Change at Sunway but Advanced Functions! i'm suppose to want to be a psychologist &lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 153, 153);"&gt;(at this point i'm confused so i dunno what i want and please nobody talk to me about accounting)&lt;/span&gt; but i'm getting excited over my math subjects.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;gawdsohappy. i shan't go on here i shall tell everything in painful detail&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 153, 153);"&gt; (actually only one detail left worth telling) &lt;/span&gt;on Friday with JAKE and Jits and KarHeng.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;g'bye you beautiful people :D :D :D&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8725547191180223081-4165839063112282728?l=idontbelieveinhomework.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://idontbelieveinhomework.blogspot.com/feeds/4165839063112282728/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8725547191180223081&amp;postID=4165839063112282728' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8725547191180223081/posts/default/4165839063112282728'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8725547191180223081/posts/default/4165839063112282728'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://idontbelieveinhomework.blogspot.com/2009/05/one-with-call-package-virtual-people.html' title='The One With The Call, The Package &amp; The Virtual People'/><author><name>estherrr.</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_LgI256BCd-w/SO6VKtbVAJI/AAAAAAAAABg/CpOxttWmX9k/S220/five.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8725547191180223081.post-2564423399282890383</id><published>2009-05-22T01:52:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-22T02:00:58.727-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The One With History Pop Quiz</title><content type='html'>good post-breakup song :&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Silly Boy - Rihanna feat. Lady Gaga&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;..............................................&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;they say music has a way of stirring up emotions. there's one song that never fails to remind you of that time when you hit rock-bottom, that time when you just kinda lost hold of who you were, that time when you just wish it was all a nightmare and you're gonna wake up. mine's &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Empty Apartment&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;what's yours?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8725547191180223081-2564423399282890383?l=idontbelieveinhomework.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://idontbelieveinhomework.blogspot.com/feeds/2564423399282890383/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8725547191180223081&amp;postID=2564423399282890383' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8725547191180223081/posts/default/2564423399282890383'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8725547191180223081/posts/default/2564423399282890383'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://idontbelieveinhomework.blogspot.com/2009/05/one-with-history-pop-quiz.html' title='The One With History Pop Quiz'/><author><name>estherrr.</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_LgI256BCd-w/SO6VKtbVAJI/AAAAAAAAABg/CpOxttWmX9k/S220/five.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8725547191180223081.post-4824163089998615084</id><published>2009-05-19T03:33:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-19T03:33:00.396-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The One With Beard Flu</title><content type='html'>on Sundays, i've to go to work. and here's a li'l bit of what i do :&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://img194.imageshack.us/img194/3942/img0669.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://img194.imageshack.us/img194/3942/img0669.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;hello panda over -&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_LgI256BCd-w/Sg_ryP0UxpI/AAAAAAAAAIE/EXHfzuCv_wA/s1600-h/IMG_0667.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_LgI256BCd-w/Sg_ryP0UxpI/AAAAAAAAAIE/EXHfzuCv_wA/s400/IMG_0667.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5336743331929310866" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;- Wizards of Waverly Place, when Greek and Gossip Girl aren't available. sigh.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;.......................................................&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;go watch :&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Will &amp;amp; Grace&lt;br /&gt;Big Bang Theory&lt;br /&gt;How I Met Your Mother&lt;br /&gt;Greek&lt;br /&gt;Cupid&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8725547191180223081-4824163089998615084?l=idontbelieveinhomework.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://idontbelieveinhomework.blogspot.com/feeds/4824163089998615084/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8725547191180223081&amp;postID=4824163089998615084' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8725547191180223081/posts/default/4824163089998615084'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8725547191180223081/posts/default/4824163089998615084'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://idontbelieveinhomework.blogspot.com/2009/05/one-with-beard-flu.html' title='The One With Beard Flu'/><author><name>estherrr.</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_LgI256BCd-w/SO6VKtbVAJI/AAAAAAAAABg/CpOxttWmX9k/S220/five.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_LgI256BCd-w/Sg_ryP0UxpI/AAAAAAAAAIE/EXHfzuCv_wA/s72-c/IMG_0667.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8725547191180223081.post-3835685675210115046</id><published>2009-05-17T01:43:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-17T02:56:59.462-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The One Where Our Mozzarella Turns Two</title><content type='html'>the very belated anniversary post :) i think it's gonna be our thing from now onwards to celebrate special occasions with a night at a hotel since we rarely ever get to spend a night together without doing it illegally lol. so on the eve of our 2nd anniversary &lt;span style="color: rgb(192, 192, 192);"&gt;(woo 2 years of rolling and dorking around chubbeh!)&lt;/span&gt;, Din picked me up after work and we drove over to our fav place - the Curve. that's also where we had that date where later on in the night he asked the question. the place is just wonderful, especially the Street on a weekday night.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;then we got into our room at the Royale Bintang &lt;span style="color: rgb(192, 192, 192);"&gt;(took ages to convince him to book a room there instead of Boulevard)&lt;/span&gt; and we showered and purtied up and went for dinner at Italiannies. should've seen how excited he was over food but he was very nice to wait for me to get ready - took 2 hours lol - and we went down at like 9ish.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;okay so blablabla, pictures! :D :&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://img40.imageshack.us/img40/2959/bp1r.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="http://img40.imageshack.us/img40/2959/bp1r.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;i swear, i tried so hard to capture that perfect toothpaste commercial smile of his but he kept posing so much so i basically got hundreds of shots like this.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://img43.imageshack.us/img43/5821/bp2n.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="http://img43.imageshack.us/img43/5821/bp2n.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;and this.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://img33.imageshack.us/img33/849/mepq.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="http://img33.imageshack.us/img33/849/mepq.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;okay lah i had problem also. he said i look all shy and mousy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://img36.imageshack.us/img36/3771/mep2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="http://img36.imageshack.us/img36/3771/mep2.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://img40.imageshack.us/img40/2012/54308276.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://img40.imageshack.us/img40/2012/54308276.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;his main course, which he couldn't finish cos he had bruschetta before it and hence - no dessert. :(&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://img43.imageshack.us/img43/5869/91880039.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://img43.imageshack.us/img43/5869/91880039.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;mine! GIANT MUSSELS!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://img43.imageshack.us/img43/6156/22654481.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://img43.imageshack.us/img43/6156/22654481.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;shot taken by the waiter. who made fun of Din quite a bit and i didn't like that rawrr.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://img42.imageshack.us/img42/2499/17743199.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://img42.imageshack.us/img42/2499/17743199.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://img43.imageshack.us/img43/9097/cakeg.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://img43.imageshack.us/img43/9097/cakeg.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;we went to Secret Recipe for water and the supposedly-stuffed boy asked if i wanted Chocolate Mud cake and i was like noo i want my Chocolate Indulgence so we got a piece of each.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://img33.imageshack.us/img33/1411/chandelier.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://img33.imageshack.us/img33/1411/chandelier.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;on the way back upstairs after. like an hour of TV later, the cake was gone. he got sleepy pretty quick and after a while he flipped over with his back facing me then turned back grabbed my hand and wrapped my arm around himself and mumbled, &lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);"&gt;'cuddle mee!' &lt;/span&gt;gahahaha! and as usual, he didn't remember doing anything so unmacho in the morning.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.blogger.com/%20http://img51.imageshack.us/img51/4413/swim1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://img51.imageshack.us/img51/4413/swim1.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;next morning - went for a swim after breakfast. eyeliner smudged ee!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://img42.imageshack.us/img42/368/swim2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://img42.imageshack.us/img42/368/swim2.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;♥&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dinofly©, pre-world domination. ;)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8725547191180223081-3835685675210115046?l=idontbelieveinhomework.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://idontbelieveinhomework.blogspot.com/feeds/3835685675210115046/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8725547191180223081&amp;postID=3835685675210115046' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8725547191180223081/posts/default/3835685675210115046'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8725547191180223081/posts/default/3835685675210115046'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://idontbelieveinhomework.blogspot.com/2009/05/one-where-our-mozzarella-turns-two.html' title='The One Where Our Mozzarella Turns Two'/><author><name>estherrr.</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_LgI256BCd-w/SO6VKtbVAJI/AAAAAAAAABg/CpOxttWmX9k/S220/five.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8725547191180223081.post-7321253846401937135</id><published>2009-05-16T22:44:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-16T22:52:01.979-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The One Where Dinosaurs Are Sho Kewl</title><content type='html'>best scene outta Meet The Robinsons! :&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;object width="340" height="285"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/fmiV2AaIeE0&amp;amp;hl=en&amp;amp;fs=1&amp;amp;border=1"&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/fmiV2AaIeE0&amp;amp;hl=en&amp;amp;fs=1&amp;amp;border=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="340" height="285"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;hahahahaha!&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/8725547191180223081-7321253846401937135?l=idontbelieveinhomework.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://idontbelieveinhomework.blogspot.com/feeds/7321253846401937135/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8725547191180223081&amp;postID=7321253846401937135' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8725547191180223081/posts/default/7321253846401937135'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8725547191180223081/posts/default/7321253846401937135'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://idontbelieveinhomework.blogspot.com/2009/05/one-where-dinosaurs-are-sho-kewl.html' title='The One Where Dinosaurs Are Sho Kewl'/><author><name>estherrr.</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_LgI256BCd-w/SO6VKtbVAJI/AAAAAAAAABg/CpOxttWmX9k/S220/five.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8725547191180223081.post-8805842082190951661</id><published>2009-05-13T21:00:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-13T21:23:08.088-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The One Where Grapes Are The New Apples</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_LgI256BCd-w/SguZjrZ6xuI/AAAAAAAAAH8/rPo_QW4zZuA/s1600-h/P1000018.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 280px; height: 276px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_LgI256BCd-w/SguZjrZ6xuI/AAAAAAAAAH8/rPo_QW4zZuA/s400/P1000018.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5335527021776389858" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;tummy's gotten bigger. sigh.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8725547191180223081-8805842082190951661?l=idontbelieveinhomework.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://idontbelieveinhomework.blogspot.com/feeds/8805842082190951661/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8725547191180223081&amp;postID=8805842082190951661' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8725547191180223081/posts/default/8805842082190951661'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8725547191180223081/posts/default/8805842082190951661'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://idontbelieveinhomework.blogspot.com/2009/05/one-where-grapes-are-new-apples.html' title='The One Where Grapes Are The New Apples'/><author><name>estherrr.</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_LgI256BCd-w/SO6VKtbVAJI/AAAAAAAAABg/CpOxttWmX9k/S220/five.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_LgI256BCd-w/SguZjrZ6xuI/AAAAAAAAAH8/rPo_QW4zZuA/s72-c/P1000018.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8725547191180223081.post-8932687626083380017</id><published>2009-05-12T00:24:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-12T01:23:05.540-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The One With Flooding Phonecalls</title><content type='html'>you know you've got too much time when :&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;you've just finished a quarterly budget for all your expenses. and you mean all, even left emergency cash for nose studs cos they fall out so bloody often.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;you've stared at your nails for so long you've even counted which ones need touch-ups.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;you've checked your email like 8 times today just to hopefully see the reply from the girl who's importing all those necklaces from Korea.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;you've thought through all sortsa names for your kids only to clear it all cos you know yourself and you're most likely gonna wind up with someone like your current bf anyway and you know he's gonna want to give alot of stupid names a fair chance.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;you've spent hours putting your hand on the computer screen trying to find the best color match for your skintone, cos you're so bored you're shopping for makeup. online.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;you've Googled 'famous vampires' and read the longest article you could find. then you proceed to Google 'Nostradamus' cos you thought he was a vampire too wtf.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;you've tried loading the newest How I Met Your Mother and it just keeps saying 'temporarily unavailable' and you wanna smash your keyboard. then you look down at your keyboard and think,&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153);"&gt; 'man this keyboard sure is dusty. wonder when was the last time someone's cleaned it. i bet it's never been cleaned. ah who cares&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; i'm&lt;/span&gt; not gonna clean it - '&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- yea.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;the only thing that's comforting is knowing that i'm making 60 bucks a day just rotting here. it's like stealing candy from a baby.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8725547191180223081-8932687626083380017?l=idontbelieveinhomework.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://idontbelieveinhomework.blogspot.com/feeds/8932687626083380017/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8725547191180223081&amp;postID=8932687626083380017' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8725547191180223081/posts/default/8932687626083380017'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8725547191180223081/posts/default/8932687626083380017'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://idontbelieveinhomework.blogspot.com/2009/05/one-with-flooding-phonecalls.html' title='The One With Flooding Phonecalls'/><author><name>estherrr.</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_LgI256BCd-w/SO6VKtbVAJI/AAAAAAAAABg/CpOxttWmX9k/S220/five.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8725547191180223081.post-584455421794426116</id><published>2009-05-09T23:28:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-09T23:40:56.856-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The One With Keeping You Taboo</title><content type='html'>to the boy who ratted out on me, thankyou. no really. i'd have it no other way.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8725547191180223081-584455421794426116?l=idontbelieveinhomework.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://idontbelieveinhomework.blogspot.com/feeds/584455421794426116/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8725547191180223081&amp;postID=584455421794426116' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8725547191180223081/posts/default/584455421794426116'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8725547191180223081/posts/default/584455421794426116'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://idontbelieveinhomework.blogspot.com/2009/05/one-with-keeping-you-taboo.html' title='The One With Keeping You Taboo'/><author><name>estherrr.</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_LgI256BCd-w/SO6VKtbVAJI/AAAAAAAAABg/CpOxttWmX9k/S220/five.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8725547191180223081.post-4859039734519019566</id><published>2009-05-07T17:40:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-07T17:52:46.931-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The One With Only Three</title><content type='html'>- that i deem okay to be posted. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_LgI256BCd-w/SgOBV9aOgWI/AAAAAAAAAHc/9fOXKw4KoEw/s1600-h/2821_98460980217_632900217_2993409_7270366_n.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 299px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_LgI256BCd-w/SgOBV9aOgWI/AAAAAAAAAHc/9fOXKw4KoEw/s400/2821_98460980217_632900217_2993409_7270366_n.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5333248597998600546" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_LgI256BCd-w/SgOBf2dmm9I/AAAAAAAAAHs/hFMvByWfH-o/s1600-h/2821_98460075217_632900217_2993396_6012018_n.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 299px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_LgI256BCd-w/SgOBf2dmm9I/AAAAAAAAAHs/hFMvByWfH-o/s400/2821_98460075217_632900217_2993396_6012018_n.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5333248767932406738" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_LgI256BCd-w/SgOBb098sHI/AAAAAAAAAHk/AcVrUL9Zq_0/s1600-h/2821_98460080217_632900217_2993397_2102125_n.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 299px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_LgI256BCd-w/SgOBb098sHI/AAAAAAAAAHk/AcVrUL9Zq_0/s400/2821_98460080217_632900217_2993397_2102125_n.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5333248698811723890" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;TGIF! :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8725547191180223081-4859039734519019566?l=idontbelieveinhomework.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://idontbelieveinhomework.blogspot.com/feeds/4859039734519019566/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8725547191180223081&amp;postID=4859039734519019566' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8725547191180223081/posts/default/4859039734519019566'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8725547191180223081/posts/default/4859039734519019566'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://idontbelieveinhomework.blogspot.com/2009/05/one-with-only-three.html' title='The One With Only Three'/><author><name>estherrr.</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_LgI256BCd-w/SO6VKtbVAJI/AAAAAAAAABg/CpOxttWmX9k/S220/five.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_LgI256BCd-w/SgOBV9aOgWI/AAAAAAAAAHc/9fOXKw4KoEw/s72-c/2821_98460980217_632900217_2993409_7270366_n.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8725547191180223081.post-1310798823040588435</id><published>2009-05-06T22:52:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-06T23:54:04.112-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The One With Bobby Pins</title><content type='html'>one, i am happy with how my cash stash is growing. well, the stash that's in the form of cheques and whatever's in the bank account.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;two, but it sucks when you need RM12, 000 and there's no way getting near that number on your own - by July.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;...................................................................&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;i won't be updating as often as i'd like since the internet at home is gone again grr. luckily i get internet at work so i still get all the TV i need :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i keep thinking about writing something about MOS last week since it was our first time &lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 153, 153);"&gt;(yes damn sad)&lt;/span&gt; but i can't think of what hasn't been said about clubbing already. you go all dressed up &lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 153, 153);"&gt;(or for some - hardly dressed at all)&lt;/span&gt;, drink, dance, and pass out. and it was Butthead's birthday party &lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 153, 153);"&gt;(should've seen how defensive he was over the bottles he bought lol)&lt;/span&gt; but, i don't have pictures. -.- Sharon took a few but cannot go steal from her cos she locked her blog :( anyway here's my take on what basically everyone my age has done but i, being a trueblue&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 153, 153);"&gt; (shut up Jun-Elle) &lt;/span&gt;nerd hadn't until last Thursday :&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. i ordered a Shirley Temple after making so many at WIP but never tried one and guess what! it tastes like shit. like the pink cough syrup kids get at the doctor's.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. Jitsiang, i'm sorry don't let me pour you a drink again cos i'm sure it was too much. i did the same for myself like 3 times and look how i ended up. all squeaky and smiling like a dork.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. everyone whose head i patted - raise your hand.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4. okay list of other stupid things i did &lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 153, 153);"&gt;(they seemed pretty rational to me. at the time.) &lt;/span&gt;:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;* screech to be heard. it was very loud okay. and i was happy. so my voice went all high and squeaky lah.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;* step on the couch to look for the lesbians. someone said&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 153, 0);"&gt; 'lesbians!'&lt;/span&gt; and there were alot of people around, so i jumped on the couch to see lah. normal what. oh but i still couldn't see them haih.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;* i remember this one a little more cos after i said it, i was met with silence then laughter. i don't think i should say it here. or should i? no lah better not got kiddos around&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 153, 153);"&gt; (hi Jitsiang Esther's keeping her blog clean for you, say thankyou)&lt;/span&gt;. okay lah i replace the bad word with a nicer sounding one. how 'bout fuzz, like warm and fuzzy? okay so Mahzrin said something about fuzzing Din and Din replied &lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 153, 153);"&gt;(as though daring him)&lt;/span&gt;,&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);"&gt; 'come fuzz me lah!' &lt;/span&gt;and i screeched, &lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 51, 204);"&gt;'NO CAN ONLY FUZZ ME'&lt;/span&gt;, then closed my eyes and curled into a ball wtf. sigh.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;* i punched someone! but this was before anything went down my system. i did it cos he was ignoring someone. and grinding against my boyfriend wtff.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;okay that's all. i'm not that much of a failure woo! i remember trying very hard to walk straight cos i didn't want anyone thinking i was 'gone' or whatever.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5. it's very nice to see familiar faces! i saw um one. which was Mei Mei. she was very nice to offer lending her phone for me to call a very, strong tiny person lol. oh speaking of very strong, tiny person - sorry for braiding your hair and whatever other wtf things i was doing T.T wah damn embarrassing thinking about it now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;6. okay, i've read about girls puking during clubbing alot but seeing it in front of me was quite different. maybe it's just that one girl but as she sat there next to her own vomit outside a cubicle blocking the other girls, she looked retarded. like an animal. i felt embarrassed for her.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;7. Din is the best babysitter ever. i'd like to think that i was totally fine and able to walk on my own but really, i needed him to hold my hand and direct me alot lol.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;8. wanna go again :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;kay back to watching Will&amp;amp;Grace at work. better get as many in before the bosses start coming back. bubyee.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8725547191180223081-1310798823040588435?l=idontbelieveinhomework.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://idontbelieveinhomework.blogspot.com/feeds/1310798823040588435/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8725547191180223081&amp;postID=1310798823040588435' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8725547191180223081/posts/default/1310798823040588435'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8725547191180223081/posts/default/1310798823040588435'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://idontbelieveinhomework.blogspot.com/2009/05/one-with-bobby-pins.html' title='The One With Bobby Pins'/><author><name>estherrr.</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_LgI256BCd-w/SO6VKtbVAJI/AAAAAAAAABg/CpOxttWmX9k/S220/five.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8725547191180223081.post-293125805583715700</id><published>2009-05-02T23:39:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-02T23:46:56.359-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The One With Yet Another Joke Played</title><content type='html'>the past two weeks have been a real rollercoaster. from having a map and a GPS in my hands, i feel like i've willingly, stupidly gave all direction up. it's new, it almost feels better than before.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i've fallen and gotten back up so many times it's almost like being a cat with 9 lives.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and now off to the shelves, my worn out pair of goody-two's.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8725547191180223081-293125805583715700?l=idontbelieveinhomework.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://idontbelieveinhomework.blogspot.com/feeds/293125805583715700/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8725547191180223081&amp;postID=293125805583715700' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8725547191180223081/posts/default/293125805583715700'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8725547191180223081/posts/default/293125805583715700'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://idontbelieveinhomework.blogspot.com/2009/05/one-with-yet-another-joke-played.html' title='The One With Yet Another Joke Played'/><author><name>estherrr.</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_LgI256BCd-w/SO6VKtbVAJI/AAAAAAAAABg/CpOxttWmX9k/S220/five.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8725547191180223081.post-988283762391628265</id><published>2009-04-24T01:48:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-25T02:10:01.702-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The One With Booty Shakin' In Exchange For Birthday Cake</title><content type='html'>to the purty birthday boy, the one whose heart is as big as Russia and the one who laughs with his mouth so wide you can mistake it for a Venus Flytrap :&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://img25.imageshack.us/img25/5934/dsc00604.png"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://img25.imageshack.us/img25/5934/dsc00604.png" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0); font-style: italic;"&gt;happy 19th, Sweetpea!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;here's back when we both had less-than-fab hair and playgrounds were our favourite&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 153, 153);"&gt; (okay more like &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;only&lt;/span&gt;)&lt;/span&gt; haunting grounds. we've grown loads&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 153, 153);"&gt; (especially you 13 kg fattyyyy gahaha)&lt;/span&gt; but you'll always be the prettiest boy to me, inside out, no matter how much weight you gain or how cinapek you become. :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and even if one day we've to be apart, i'm still gonna find my way to wish you HAPPY BIRTHDAY at midnight &lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 153, 153);"&gt;(no matter what time zone gonna be the first foreverrr)&lt;/span&gt; and give you your present in threes. cos for how much you think of others when they're not looking and when you're not being crazy-alpha-man macho, you deserve that at the very least. :D&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;anniversary next woohoo!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8725547191180223081-988283762391628265?l=idontbelieveinhomework.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://idontbelieveinhomework.blogspot.com/feeds/988283762391628265/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8725547191180223081&amp;postID=988283762391628265' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8725547191180223081/posts/default/988283762391628265'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8725547191180223081/posts/default/988283762391628265'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://idontbelieveinhomework.blogspot.com/2009/04/one-with-booty-shakin-in-exchange-for.html' title='The One With Booty Shakin&apos; In Exchange For Birthday Cake'/><author><name>estherrr.</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_LgI256BCd-w/SO6VKtbVAJI/AAAAAAAAABg/CpOxttWmX9k/S220/five.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8725547191180223081.post-8299846406138938225</id><published>2009-04-23T01:08:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-23T01:18:22.880-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The One Where If I Had All The Money In The World -</title><content type='html'>- i want to be taught for the rest of my life. to be a student and learn, till the day i've to go. i don't want to leave thinking, &lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 51, 204);"&gt;'if only i knew'&lt;/span&gt; for anything at all.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;if anyone knows of a course where you learn everything there is to learn - even if it takes centuries - lemme know and i'll sign up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;note to self : goal in life, no longer to be a modern-day renaissance (wo)man but to be a know-it-all. haters, start your Facebook groups now. ;)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8725547191180223081-8299846406138938225?l=idontbelieveinhomework.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://idontbelieveinhomework.blogspot.com/feeds/8299846406138938225/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8725547191180223081&amp;postID=8299846406138938225' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8725547191180223081/posts/default/8299846406138938225'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8725547191180223081/posts/default/8299846406138938225'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://idontbelieveinhomework.blogspot.com/2009/04/one-where-if-i-had-all-money-in-world.html' title='The One Where If I Had All The Money In The World -'/><author><name>estherrr.</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_LgI256BCd-w/SO6VKtbVAJI/AAAAAAAAABg/CpOxttWmX9k/S220/five.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8725547191180223081.post-537856649991534574</id><published>2009-04-22T19:30:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-22T19:53:13.585-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The One With Sleeping Habits Like A 70-Year-Old</title><content type='html'>i have been in bed by 10 the past few nights that it's scaring me. this new job is very, very not tiring at all but i think the walk home daily really adds up cos whenever i get home all i wanna do is shower then zzz. then i'll skip dinner and zzz till 6 then i'll be so happy cos 3 hours to get ready for work!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;which really means : 3 hours of Will&amp;amp;Grace!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;so this is what working life feels like. i've even forgotten how stress feels like. O.O&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;on Tuesday when i got my nose repierced, it was more painful than usual. i ran into Jun-Elle and her mom and Phil right after and okay, Jun-Elle - if you saw something in my nose it wasn't booger okay. cos when i got home, i realized that there was something in my nose. you know that thing you have behind earrings to hold it? I HAD ONE IN MY NOSE. damn scary okay! there wasn't one when i pierced before so the guy must've left it there or he put it there cos i was complaining that eh my stud always flies out when i laugh lah i keep losing studs and so he sticks some foreign object up my poor nostril.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;so i spent an hour with a tweezer with my eyes shut trying to pull it out. oh but before that - &lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 153, 153);"&gt;because i don't know how earrings work never wore a pair in my life&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; - i tried unscrewing it -.- when all that did was turn the stud round and round. finally after a while i puuulled and it came off.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and then blood started gushing out like the Niagara Falls.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;haha okay no that didn't happen that was just to make Veena gag.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;pictures over the weekend! :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;PS : phone's gone haywire so if i don't reply or your calls can't get through - sorry! anything urgent um call my Mom please she will direct your call wtf.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;......................................................&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 102, 0);"&gt;'Esther, later there's a man coming to fix the toilet - open the door for him ah.'&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 51, 204);"&gt;'Okay.'&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Later :&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 153, 153);"&gt;*diiiiiiiiing doooooooong* &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 51, 204);"&gt;'Hello, who are you looking for?' &lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 153, 153);"&gt;(through the intercom)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 0, 0);"&gt;'Hello datang buat jamban!' &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;HAHAHAHAHAHA!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8725547191180223081-537856649991534574?l=idontbelieveinhomework.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://idontbelieveinhomework.blogspot.com/feeds/537856649991534574/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8725547191180223081&amp;postID=537856649991534574' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8725547191180223081/posts/default/537856649991534574'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8725547191180223081/posts/default/537856649991534574'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://idontbelieveinhomework.blogspot.com/2009/04/one-with-sleeping-habits-like-70-year.html' title='The One With Sleeping Habits Like A 70-Year-Old'/><author><name>estherrr.</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_LgI256BCd-w/SO6VKtbVAJI/AAAAAAAAABg/CpOxttWmX9k/S220/five.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8725547191180223081.post-234044539412586660</id><published>2009-04-20T21:16:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-20T22:24:43.342-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The One Where Robin Was Really William</title><content type='html'>in the past 1 week i have :&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;started a new job where for once, my size doesn't make everyone treat me like a kid. -.-&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;i have straightened my hair.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;i've cut my hair much shorter. the stylist shaved the back of my hair! and for once, i actually like my hair.&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 153, 153);"&gt; *run fingers through hair and sighs happily*&lt;/span&gt; Butthead thinks i look butch though. :(&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;walked all the way home from work in heels!&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;sprayed my boyfriend with &lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;spit&lt;/span&gt; by accident &lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 153, 153);"&gt;(burst out laughing nyehehe)&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;spent a total of RM600 in like 3 days. so NOT me. but mostly on Butthead's present so don't feel&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; that&lt;/span&gt; guilty. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and today i'm gonna just add one more :&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;gonna re-pierce my nose.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;can't wait can't wait! the next week is gonna be real packed. :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;24th - Butthead's 19th.&lt;br /&gt;25th - Hari Anugerah Cemerlang &lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 153, 153);"&gt;(woo i actually get to go!)&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;27th - Eve of Anniversary. Finally dinner somewhere with more than one selection of pasta me no likes you Tony Roma's T.T&lt;br /&gt;28th -  Anniversary! 2 years already and i'm still crazy about chu&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 153, 153);"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; Sweetpea. &lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 153, 153);"&gt;(awww - pause - okay you may gag now)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;30th - Butthead's birthday party. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;so gonna pierce nose again later. let's all put our hands together and pray that this time, the hole will be tiny and won't fly out when i'm laughing/sneezing/squeezing my nose to show disapproval. have a great week everyboody, i know i will. :D :D&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8725547191180223081-234044539412586660?l=idontbelieveinhomework.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://idontbelieveinhomework.blogspot.com/feeds/234044539412586660/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8725547191180223081&amp;postID=234044539412586660' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8725547191180223081/posts/default/234044539412586660'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8725547191180223081/posts/default/234044539412586660'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://idontbelieveinhomework.blogspot.com/2009/04/one-where-robin-was-really-william.html' title='The One Where Robin Was Really William'/><author><name>estherrr.</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_LgI256BCd-w/SO6VKtbVAJI/AAAAAAAAABg/CpOxttWmX9k/S220/five.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8725547191180223081.post-595917303028082486</id><published>2009-04-16T21:01:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-17T03:00:01.348-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The One With Vulturous Salesgirls</title><content type='html'>1. it's been 3 days at the new job. so far the most difficult task i've had to do was scanning a stack of tender drawings with an ancient scanner that hates me. to think i expected to be running around getting coffee and becoming BFFs with the copy machine. so far i've been rotting away doing math questions on Cliffs Notes and reading FML. best - job - ever!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. anyone in ICPU/CIMP have an Advanced Functions book you don't need anymore? i can't find one online to steal T.T&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. yesterday i was thinking how sad it is that this company has three floors and no microwave oven then later one of the architects came in and announced, 'petition for microwave!' lol.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4. go check this out : &lt;a href="http://www.storyofstuff.com/"&gt;Story of Stuff&lt;/a&gt;. screw Earth Hour, spreading this is worth more than a hundred houses with its lights turned off.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5. i'm going for a super short haircut tomorrow. i've been jumping back and forth between 'do it! you've been wanting this for ages!' and 'don't do it! keep the space helmet! Lady Gaga would be proud' God, this time, no funny business okay.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;6. earlier when i went down to get lunch, there was this fat Indian man walking in my direction. just as he was about to pass me, he walked a little closer and said, &lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 51, 0);"&gt;'Nice legs.'&lt;/span&gt; WTF!&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 153, 153);"&gt; (no i was not wearing shorts -.-) &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;7. i think the reason why my superior doesn't give me work is because she has none. she's just like me, sitting at her computer surfing. best - job - ever!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;8. i haven't seen JAKE in ages.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;9. again, are we only allowed to have three bridesmaids? cos i think i found number 4. he'd look a bit stupid in a dress though haha.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;10. you know how Einstein invented the atomic bomb but never meant for it to be used to destroy like it did? i think i just pulled an Einstein. me and my scheming.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;11. OMG it's 5.56pm! BYEEEE!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8725547191180223081-595917303028082486?l=idontbelieveinhomework.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://idontbelieveinhomework.blogspot.com/feeds/595917303028082486/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8725547191180223081&amp;postID=595917303028082486' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8725547191180223081/posts/default/595917303028082486'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8725547191180223081/posts/default/595917303028082486'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://idontbelieveinhomework.blogspot.com/2009/04/one-with-vulturous-salesgirls.html' title='The One With Vulturous Salesgirls'/><author><name>estherrr.</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_LgI256BCd-w/SO6VKtbVAJI/AAAAAAAAABg/CpOxttWmX9k/S220/five.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8725547191180223081.post-1915717851730883774</id><published>2009-04-15T04:10:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-15T04:19:08.981-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The One With The Permanent Space Helmet Look</title><content type='html'>dear God, yesterday before i took a deep breath and let my usual hairstylist straighten my hair - i thought we had an agreement that it will look fantastic. it won't be lala straight, it won't be stick-to-my-head flat.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and yet now, i look like our Form1 volleyball coach when she rebonded her hair for her birthday - making her look like she had a space helmet on.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;AARRGH. okay, i'll admit i like how soft it is and how i can do my work without my hair tickling my chin cos it no longer curls in but the shape is like shit. so eventhough the hairstylist told me i can only wash my hair after 2 days, i washed it about 23 hours later.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Karven said the first day it'll suck. so did Din &lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 153, 153);"&gt;(don't ask me how he knows)&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;they better be right. no pictures till October. tah.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8725547191180223081-1915717851730883774?l=idontbelieveinhomework.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://idontbelieveinhomework.blogspot.com/feeds/1915717851730883774/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8725547191180223081&amp;postID=1915717851730883774' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8725547191180223081/posts/default/1915717851730883774'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8725547191180223081/posts/default/1915717851730883774'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://idontbelieveinhomework.blogspot.com/2009/04/one-with-permanent-space-helmet-look.html' title='The One With The Permanent Space Helmet Look'/><author><name>estherrr.</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_LgI256BCd-w/SO6VKtbVAJI/AAAAAAAAABg/CpOxttWmX9k/S220/five.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8725547191180223081.post-7630682532843890095</id><published>2009-04-10T06:29:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-10T07:19:30.649-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The One With Special K For Brekkie</title><content type='html'>today i mulled over what i really want to do for the rest of my life. like really, really do. i know i'm not the kind who'd do social work. i'm against global warming and poverty as much as the next decent person but i know i'm meant to do something else.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i hate that over the years, since i was probably 10, i've fantasized about so many things i wanted to be. i never drew any lines for myself. i'm the kind delusional enough to settle on an ambition no matter how far-fetched.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;for a while i wanted to be a movie director. till i hear about how Good Will Hunting came about then i chickened out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;for a very long while i wanted to be  a fashion designer&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 153, 153);"&gt; (which girl hasn't thought about this)&lt;/span&gt; and i didn't exactly file it away under 'Stupid and Silly' but now i think of it as an alternative. i'll get a degree for something else, something more solid - and that wouldn't need creativity as a fuel so much - but one day, maybe. 'cept i won't make fashion, i wanna be the one producing the fashion shows.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;then just before Form 4, i'd to think about a career choice that would back up my decision of going into science stream. nutritionist or dietician.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;but that didn't last long. when i went into commerce, i considered accountancy since everyone kept saying how much money there'd be. but i wrote it off almost immediately cos i couldn't see myself doing it. i couldn't see myself 'paying my dues' for something i didn't love. i love numbers, very much&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 153, 153);"&gt; (considered mathematician but scratched it off just as quick cos can't think of many options)&lt;/span&gt; but not like that. if i ever work with numbers, it's gonna be a subject like algebra or something.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;now psychologist. or maybe a counsellor. i asked myself exactly who the heck do i wanna help with a degree in psychology. i got a little scared cos i really can't think of why i'm thinking of doing this. what sucks more is i keep hearing people say i should do something else, that psychology is basically for dumb people and i can do better.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;then i remembered - girls with eating disorders. back in 2006, i blog-hopped through Xanga's huge collection of ED blogs. i had favourites. i even collected thinspo. alot of people hardly pay much attention to these girls, waving them off as overly-conscious nuts.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;yes, no denying that they're crazy to think they're fat when they're not. they starve themselves and go on fasts  &lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 153, 153);"&gt;(you should see how long some can last - a &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;week&lt;/span&gt; on a water fast)&lt;/span&gt; and their period goes whack and their hair fall out, nails yellow, etc.  there were girls who were really, really overweight and had an ED. &lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 0, 204);"&gt;'they say i can't have an ED because i'm fat.'&lt;/span&gt; this was their solution to it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;then there were those who were in it for the hype.&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 0, 204);"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 0, 204);"&gt;'i WANT an ED. i had it and lost it and now i'm trying to get back into it.'&lt;/span&gt; very annoying but you get many of these.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;then there were those, very common, who were just sick of being ugly. thin = beautiful in their eyes. they saw it as something like a boost to an ordinary girl.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;then, then there were those who're perfect but still saw flaws everywhere. these were the real deal. they fit every symptom for whatever ED they have, but they don't see it at all. i remember reading about this one very pretty girl who had anorexia and she was so thin but not disgusting thin. it looked like she was naturally thin. she was honestly terrified of food. food scared her. you should read about how she talks about pizza. you'd think it was something that came out of a Stephen King novel.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;but they all had one thing : discipline.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;the kind of effort they put into being, what they call, beautiful - is extraordinary. and that's why i never just look at a girl who has an ED as just a chick who's obsessed with her weight. cos she isn't &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;just&lt;/span&gt; that, there's alot more to it. and imagine if they put that same amount of effort into something they loved, something they could make a living out of?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;they could create something really kickass that's for sure.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://img25.imageshack.us/img25/1108/z82779420.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 308px;" src="http://img25.imageshack.us/img25/1108/z82779420.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;here's to something that will always be kept in a safe distance, but never abandoned.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8725547191180223081-7630682532843890095?l=idontbelieveinhomework.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://idontbelieveinhomework.blogspot.com/feeds/7630682532843890095/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8725547191180223081&amp;postID=7630682532843890095' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8725547191180223081/posts/default/7630682532843890095'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8725547191180223081/posts/default/7630682532843890095'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://idontbelieveinhomework.blogspot.com/2009/04/one-with-special-k-for-brekkie.html' title='The One With Special K For Brekkie'/><author><name>estherrr.</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_LgI256BCd-w/SO6VKtbVAJI/AAAAAAAAABg/CpOxttWmX9k/S220/five.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8725547191180223081.post-5765938722666168365</id><published>2009-04-09T06:22:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-09T07:17:28.830-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The One With That Leather Couch</title><content type='html'>i! am! gonna be! switching jobs!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;finally&lt;/span&gt; i'm leaving the one at my mom's office. it was fun and all skipping whenever i wanted, but the money wasn't good. at least not good enough for the goal i've set for myself ;) so new job starts Wednesday and the good points are :&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. it's close to home - in Danau Desa.&lt;br /&gt;2. rich company - architecture firm, just expanded and fat leather couch right at the entrance with IKEA-ish furniture everywhere else.&lt;br /&gt;3. it's small so i'd probably have to see a maximum of 5 faces a day - hallelujah!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i'm not sure what the bad points are but i've been thinking 'bout the worst that could happen so hopefully it's nothing close. i reeaally don't want another job that makes me sad the second i wake up in the morning. the job at the fancy loft 2 years ago &lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 153, 153);"&gt;(the one with a kitchen that could feed Cambodia, toilet that was sparkly enough to blind me, and everything else that was plain awesome) &lt;/span&gt;sucked so bad. imagine - imported chocolate and about a dozen different caffeine fixes didn't make up for how stressful it was. phew.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;hopefully this one is nothing like that. fingers crossed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;........................................................&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Disclaimer : Not An Advert.&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Not That I'd Ever Be Asked To Do One Heh.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;about a month ago, the Butthead and i have started shopping for imported stuff online cos seriously - it's &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;very&lt;/span&gt; hard to find good stuff here. so i've had this thing for necklaces with quirky pendants for a while now and everytime i come across a really nice one, it costs alot. like at least RM40. now the same way i figured how to buy the clothes those girls sell for a 100% more than the original price on most blogshops, i was determined to find the source of where these seemingly similiar necklaces all come from.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;then one night after alot of browsing, i found it! -&lt;a href="http://www.okba.com.cn/"&gt; &lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 51, 204);"&gt;www.okba.com.cn&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt; :D&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;it's actually a Korean site&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 153, 153);"&gt; (i found it cos blogshops in Malaysia used pictures from the site itself and the link was watermarked on it) &lt;/span&gt;&lt;a style="color: rgb(204, 51, 204);" href="http://www.blogger.com/www.okba.kr"&gt;www.okba.kr&lt;/a&gt;, but the Korean one doesn't do overseas orders.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i was damn happy lah when they sent me the link to the Chinese one but there was one other problem : they don't do retail sales, only wholesale which made me so frustrated. plus the site is in chinese and Jitsiang was still in NS so i just clicked this clicked that till i found the necklaces T.T  these are a few of the ones i was mourning over&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 153, 153);"&gt; (damn nice gaaah)&lt;/span&gt; :&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://img248.imageshack.us/img248/548/glasses.png"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 989px;" src="http://img248.imageshack.us/img248/548/glasses.png" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://img248.imageshack.us/img248/7886/chandelier.png"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 804px;" src="http://img248.imageshack.us/img248/7886/chandelier.png" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://img248.imageshack.us/img248/5335/unicornj.png"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 956px;" src="http://img248.imageshack.us/img248/5335/unicornj.png" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://img25.imageshack.us/img25/4599/frames.png"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 829px;" src="http://img25.imageshack.us/img25/4599/frames.png" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://img248.imageshack.us/img248/4739/cagethingie.png"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 594px;" src="http://img248.imageshack.us/img248/4739/cagethingie.png" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;then last last week when i didn't have to work all week&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 153, 153);"&gt; (boss went to Bangkok huhu)&lt;/span&gt;, i  surfed till my eyes hurt trying to find a blogshop that did pre-order sprees from that site. i stumbled on this one Singaporean blogshop where they had a section for feedback &amp;amp; suggestions. so i just sent them an email 'bout the site and a few days of email bantering, wham! they started a spree on it! if you go to their blogshop -&lt;a style="color: rgb(204, 51, 204);" href="http://www.mini-sprees.blogspot.com/"&gt; Minisprees&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.mini-sprees.blogspot.com/"&gt; &lt;/a&gt;- the post on the pre-order Korean necklaces it says thanks to Estherr. :D&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;this has got to be one of the best blogshops i've come across, they're friendly and professional and so keen on feedback. i really thought i was never gonna get my hands on those necklaces unless i ask someone who's Korean to get it to me when they go back. the prices aren't crazy either, if you convert from SGD to MYR, it's about RM20-RM25 a piece. i'm a real prude but i know that it's worth it since probably no one else around would be wearing the same thing as me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;but! hahaw! i'll be getting my hands on 'em by May! can't wait can't wait huhu oh by the way, if any of you like would like to order but you're not very sure since the stuff is gonna be mailed from China then to Singapore then only KL - you can order with me. i'm not selling btw, so if you're ordering with me it just means your order will be with mine - no hidden/extra charges. oh but only if i like you muahaha.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and i'd be able to get you a little something extra &lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 153, 153);"&gt;*winkwinkwtf*&lt;/span&gt; lol.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;but whatever i'm buying is &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;nothing&lt;/span&gt; compared to the Butthead. he's spent over a thousand so far. and me? not even a hundred yet. not even when i saw sprees for stuff from WetSeal &lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 153, 153);"&gt;(they ran out of my size for what i wanted)&lt;/span&gt; and Alloy&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 153, 153);"&gt; (damn shit expensive)&lt;/span&gt;. lol men. but i think he's woken up a bit after how i keep going,&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 51, 204);"&gt; 'i bought a shirt today! and it actually fits me! guess how much? 13 bucks! oh i bought a new top today! guess how much! 10 bucks!' &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and quality is fine lah not that it matters much cos i know myself, i wear most of my nicer clothes like 4 times max. after that if you still me wearing the same thing, it means i like you enough to be myself around you :) or i just don't really care that i look like crap when i'm with you gahaha just kidding. especially since Veena has seen me the most in the past two years in repeats.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ending this post now. i've got no work tomorrow so Will&amp;amp;Grace marathon all night! g'night all. :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8725547191180223081-5765938722666168365?l=idontbelieveinhomework.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://idontbelieveinhomework.blogspot.com/feeds/5765938722666168365/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8725547191180223081&amp;postID=5765938722666168365' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8725547191180223081/posts/default/5765938722666168365'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8725547191180223081/posts/default/5765938722666168365'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://idontbelieveinhomework.blogspot.com/2009/03/one-with-that-leather-couch.html' title='The One With That Leather Couch'/><author><name>estherrr.</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_LgI256BCd-w/SO6VKtbVAJI/AAAAAAAAABg/CpOxttWmX9k/S220/five.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8725547191180223081.post-1651876773390717012</id><published>2009-04-03T20:14:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-03T20:35:30.551-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The One With The Colbie Caillat Of Writing</title><content type='html'>i don't even know her. all i've done over the years is comment once a blue moon, email a follow-up on a comment on Yasogee and skipping school, and another email to ask if hey, does she know where i can get round paper lanterns in KL since she's planned so many events before.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and yet, this &lt;a href="http://quaintly.net/2009/03/29/epilogue/"&gt;http://quaintly.net/2009/03/29/epilogue/&lt;/a&gt; made me very, very emo.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8725547191180223081-1651876773390717012?l=idontbelieveinhomework.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://idontbelieveinhomework.blogspot.com/feeds/1651876773390717012/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8725547191180223081&amp;postID=1651876773390717012' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8725547191180223081/posts/default/1651876773390717012'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8725547191180223081/posts/default/1651876773390717012'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://idontbelieveinhomework.blogspot.com/2009/04/one-with-colbie-caillat-of-writing.html' title='The One With The Colbie Caillat Of Writing'/><author><name>estherrr.</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_LgI256BCd-w/SO6VKtbVAJI/AAAAAAAAABg/CpOxttWmX9k/S220/five.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8725547191180223081.post-5275937592366320488</id><published>2009-03-30T03:26:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-03-30T04:57:45.550-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The One With Empty Bookshelves</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Dictionary definition of Frenemy&lt;/span&gt; :&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;   &lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);"&gt;"Frenemy"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 153, 153);"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;(sometimes spelled "frienemy") &lt;/span&gt;is a portmanteau of &lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);"&gt;"friend"&lt;/span&gt; and &lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);"&gt;"enemy"&lt;/span&gt; which can refer to either an enemy disguised as a friend or to a partner who is simultaneously a competitor. [1] The latter can describe personal, geopolitical, and commercial relationships both among individuals and groups or institutions. The word has appeared in print as early as 1953. [2]&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;    &lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 153, 153); font-style: italic;"&gt;source : Wikipedia.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 51, 204);"&gt;sound familiar? identify your own frenemy today. and soon you'll be able to tell who the hell keeps laughing behind your back everytime you fall.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8725547191180223081-5275937592366320488?l=idontbelieveinhomework.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://idontbelieveinhomework.blogspot.com/feeds/5275937592366320488/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8725547191180223081&amp;postID=5275937592366320488' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8725547191180223081/posts/default/5275937592366320488'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8725547191180223081/posts/default/5275937592366320488'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://idontbelieveinhomework.blogspot.com/2009/03/one-with-empty-bookshelves.html' title='The One With Empty Bookshelves'/><author><name>estherrr.</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_LgI256BCd-w/SO6VKtbVAJI/AAAAAAAAABg/CpOxttWmX9k/S220/five.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8725547191180223081.post-7118015174529180375</id><published>2009-03-21T23:21:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-03-21T23:38:35.630-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The One With Plastic Chandeliers</title><content type='html'>Karven! i've no credit to reply you i'm stuck at work, can't have lunch.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Veena! no credit to reply you also, i work at BSC &lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 153, 153);"&gt;(3rd floor, FORCE the bloody security guards to bring you up allll the way cos no way you can find your way up with all the renovation going on. um if you were planning on coming. heh.)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;....................................................&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;you know what i love? i love kids. but not all kids. i like the types that have just started to walk and they can't balance much so they walk with their tush sticking out a bit and arms flapping at their sides and their footsteps go &lt;span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(192, 192, 192);"&gt;*plop plop plop*&lt;/span&gt; and sometimes they put too much weight on one step and their cheeks will wobble when they land.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i wanna go hooomeee! &lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 153, 153);"&gt;*weeps*&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8725547191180223081-7118015174529180375?l=idontbelieveinhomework.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://idontbelieveinhomework.blogspot.com/feeds/7118015174529180375/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8725547191180223081&amp;postID=7118015174529180375' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8725547191180223081/posts/default/7118015174529180375'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8725547191180223081/posts/default/7118015174529180375'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://idontbelieveinhomework.blogspot.com/2009/03/one-with-plastic-chandeliers.html' title='The One With Plastic Chandeliers'/><author><name>estherrr.</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_LgI256BCd-w/SO6VKtbVAJI/AAAAAAAAABg/CpOxttWmX9k/S220/five.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8725547191180223081.post-434421478885736923</id><published>2009-03-20T07:38:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-03-20T21:18:53.044-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The One With Mr. Happy &amp; Little Miss Giggles</title><content type='html'>okay so this is probably waay too late but i insist on posting my Vday entry since the Butthead went through so much trouble and was very prompt with passing me the pics ;) soo rewind to about a month back - 14th of February. i think this year Valentine's was huge for us compared to last year. last year we were very content on just a gift and spending the night with each other.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;this year he booked a hotel room and i made reservations at the Apartment -  3 weeks before the 14th O.O must be Norman's influence lah this year lol.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;he picked me up at about 6 cos the very cold manager at the Apartment called and said our table'll be gone if we don't make it by 15 minutes past 7.30. i think it's my kiddy-phone voice. do i sound like a kid on the phone? do i? cos once i called one of Din's friends and when he hung up, he was like, &lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 102, 0);"&gt;'wtf wei i thought it was one of my sister's friends calling me' &lt;/span&gt;and that made me emo cos wth i sound like a 5-year-old on the phone!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;okay so back to that night. hmm what did we eat ah. i know there was some purple cabbage thing that had a caramel-toffeeish taste to it with lamb roast. oh i remember dessert well though. see right, i thought we'd both be a little awkward since it's not everyday we go to fancy schmancy restaurants and have both of us dolled up to the max &lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 153, 153);"&gt;(we looked like we planned our outfits, both in black and red damn cheesy lol) &lt;/span&gt;but surprisingly we were talking loads and making fun of other couples haha!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;like like, there was this one couple sitting outside&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 153, 153);"&gt; (and if you've been to The Curve on weekends you'll know the flea market's there so there're ALOT of people around)&lt;/span&gt; and they were feeding each other. okay lah romantic lah but i only feed my boyfriend when he's got his hands busy or dirty or he's eating something else. oh then there was this other couple - who sat across from each other - and the guy had a DSLR and he was taking pictures of his girlfriend 'cept his camera was so huge the lens were practically at her nose but still can pose like nobody's business.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;where was i? oh ya dessert. so we were talking alot and i was taking my own sweet time eating&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 153, 153);"&gt; (he'd already finished, naturally)&lt;/span&gt; and i'd my fork in my hand with a piece of lamb and was talking about something when i noticed his eyes darting back and forth between the piece of lamb and my mouth -.- he was so eager for dessert but felt bad to rush me cos it's Valentine's Day &lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 153, 153);"&gt;(oh but on a regular day he'd whine, &lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);"&gt;'eh can you faster ah?'&lt;/span&gt;)&lt;/span&gt;. so we laughed and i pitied him and finished my main course and we got our strawberry-whippedcream-honeycomb-chocolate parfait dessert.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;after dinner we went back to MidValley to the hotel room. it was a loong way back cos he'd forgotten the card and the DVD and he had to run back to get it at the carpark but didn't want me to go with him into the carpark in case there was a fight &lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 153, 153);"&gt;(wth)&lt;/span&gt; and make it harder for him to escape cos i can't run fast &lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 153, 153);"&gt;(wth)&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://img3.imageshack.us/img3/5995/dsc00560f.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://img3.imageshack.us/img3/5995/dsc00560f.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;this was when we'd just arrived - the Butthead all dolled up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;okay so the only thing on my mind when we were about to enter the room was to kick off my heels and open the box of Belgian chocolates i brought. but when he opened the door, i saw this instead :&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://img17.imageshack.us/img17/1122/dsc00564x.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://img17.imageshack.us/img17/1122/dsc00564x.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;then he turned on the lights with a big smile on his face :&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://img204.imageshack.us/img204/4228/1st4k.png"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://img204.imageshack.us/img204/4228/1st4k.png" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;=D&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;it really meant alot to me, despite how cheesy it is, cos you see - for a long time i believed my boyfriend has hung up his shining armour and parked his white horse in the stables to neigh and die for good and without warning, it seemed like a Neanderthal had taken his place instead. but he still manages to surprise me. ;)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;very lazy to elaborate so nah - peekchures :&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://img13.imageshack.us/img13/2749/dsc00576ooa.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://img13.imageshack.us/img13/2749/dsc00576ooa.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://img136.imageshack.us/img136/4710/dsc00579m.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://img136.imageshack.us/img136/4710/dsc00579m.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://img24.imageshack.us/img24/1166/dsc00607w.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://img24.imageshack.us/img24/1166/dsc00607w.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://img17.imageshack.us/img17/4281/dsc00608w.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://img17.imageshack.us/img17/4281/dsc00608w.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://img22.imageshack.us/img22/3651/dsc00583q.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://img22.imageshack.us/img22/3651/dsc00583q.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;the next morning :&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://img9.imageshack.us/img9/6481/dsc00651g.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://img9.imageshack.us/img9/6481/dsc00651g.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://img11.imageshack.us/img11/5144/dsc00657owj.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://img11.imageshack.us/img11/5144/dsc00657owj.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://img9.imageshack.us/img9/2020/dsc00658u.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://img9.imageshack.us/img9/2020/dsc00658u.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://img11.imageshack.us/img11/7699/dsc00661uop.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://img11.imageshack.us/img11/7699/dsc00661uop.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;then it was breakfast &lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 153, 153);"&gt;(our food was all half-eaten when we took pictures so no point la it looks more gross than appetizing to post up)&lt;/span&gt;, back upstairs to watch some more TV and then i had to go off to work. :(&lt;span style="text-decoration: none;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i really appreciated it all though, i can almost see him writhing in pain inside when he said all the sweet stuff, killing the macho image he's adopted lol. okay done with the 1 and half month late post. i think i'll start a whole series of events i never got around to posting. like the Prefects' Farewell and the surprise farewell party from the Interact Club BOD.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="text-decoration: none;"&gt;............................................................&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="text-decoration: none;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i realized my stat counts last week doubled - starting from the day we got our SPM results. so i see alot of people probably came in hopes of rejoicing over my lack of A's and maybe an emo post. but no such luck muahaha.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;anyway lemme give a detailed walkthrough of that wonderful morning. see, i told Jordan to SMS when he sees ex-form 5s arriving. cos i don't wanna be there. cos the Obor printer fucked the whole magazine up. i don't know why the hell they insisted on tweaking with Khalis's designs when they were PERFECT to begin with.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;okay so Veena called at 10.30 and said we're leaving and i was like, shit! cos i thought we'd go at 11 and Jordan had just SMSed saying there are people there already. so i went down with all the SPBT books i never returned, dropped them, cursed while i packed them up, ran into Veena's dad's car and &lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 153, 153);"&gt;*vroom*&lt;/span&gt; we reached school.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jordan came down to take my old Sej notes and since he was there i asked him to carry my books and he said i got 10A's and i was like, &lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153);"&gt;'EH DON'T AH! DON'T LIE AH!' &lt;/span&gt;cos i don't wanna be happy then only to see a B &lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 153, 153);"&gt;(BM)&lt;/span&gt; or a C &lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 153, 153);"&gt;(Sejarah)&lt;/span&gt; on my slip. when i walked into the Open Hall, teachers were congratulating Veena and i and i got even more nervous and when Pn. Margaret said, &lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 0, 0);"&gt;'Esther, congratulations' &lt;/span&gt;i asked what did i get what did i get! but she didn't tell me wth. so i got my books settled&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 153, 153);"&gt; (had to bloody pay RM47.10 for the fine)&lt;/span&gt; and waited in line while trying to get Rethnam/Crystal to get a peek at my slip cos i was gonna die from the suspense aaah.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;then finally my turn came - i got my results slip, folded it, went aside and opened it aaand -&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- &lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153);"&gt;8A1's and 2A2's&lt;/span&gt;. =D&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;better than i could've ever hoped for. the 2A2's were for EST and BM. i was so happy over my Add Math and Moral and Sej that i didn't care, eventhough Sean called and laughed at me when i said i got A2 for EST pfft. the first person i called was Din, then Derrick then my mom. Derrick was still asleep lol. so now i'm applying for scholarships and despite how i've had people pressuring me to go to colleges i don't want to go to, i'm not giving in till i've tried all the best. i honestly don't think i'm a snob to wanna go to the list i'm applying to.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i've worked hard for this, i deserve to go somewhere where i'll be happy. i'll update on the applications soon. :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&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/8725547191180223081-434421478885736923?l=idontbelieveinhomework.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://idontbelieveinhomework.blogspot.com/feeds/434421478885736923/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8725547191180223081&amp;postID=434421478885736923' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8725547191180223081/posts/default/434421478885736923'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8725547191180223081/posts/default/434421478885736923'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://idontbelieveinhomework.blogspot.com/2009/03/one-with-mr-happy-little-miss-giggles.html' title='The One With Mr. Happy &amp; Little Miss Giggles'/><author><name>estherrr.</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_LgI256BCd-w/SO6VKtbVAJI/AAAAAAAAABg/CpOxttWmX9k/S220/five.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8725547191180223081.post-1847612407525433611</id><published>2009-03-17T03:56:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-03-17T04:27:29.894-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The One With How Tuh Roll</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Happy Sniffs :&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. fresh laundry.&lt;br /&gt;2. Butthead's clothes when accidentally dipped in softener.&lt;br /&gt;3. DKNY's Be Delicious.&lt;br /&gt;4. very first cologne Butthead wore, was Hugo Boss something i think.&lt;br /&gt;5. Famous Amos cookies.&lt;br /&gt;6. coffee in the morning.&lt;br /&gt;7. my hair, after using butterscotch-scented conditioner.&lt;br /&gt;8. carbonara sauce.&lt;br /&gt;9. Derrick's strawberry tea.&lt;br /&gt;10. Saint Cinnamon.&lt;br /&gt;11. teriyaki sauce.&lt;br /&gt;12. Butthead's pillows.&lt;br /&gt;13. neighbour's cooking.&lt;br /&gt;14. baby powder.&lt;br /&gt;15. fresh sweet basil leaves.&lt;br /&gt;16. warm kaya &amp;amp; butter toast.&lt;br /&gt;17. caramel popcorn.&lt;br /&gt;18. money.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;writing this, i remembered something - my friends and i used to sniff this boy in our class back in Form 3 whenever he walked past us. i don't remember what he smelled of, but i do know we liked it very much. :P&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;then there was this other time we were called out of class and one of our seniors were near us while another was telling us something. when they left, i turned to Karven and said, &lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 51, 204);"&gt;'Zu Yee smelled like strawberries.'&lt;/span&gt; and she replied, &lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 102, 102);"&gt;'Maybe she's a strawberry in disguise.'&lt;/span&gt; hahaha wth!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and back in '06, everytime we walked past Andrea we'd smell cookies.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;then there was the morning before the Butthead's last scouts marching competition, also his birthday, and also when we first kissed. apparently i am to blame for all the mistakes he made during the competition after that kiss, cos my perfume was on his shirt and he could smell me the whole time wth.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;what're your happy sniffs? :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8725547191180223081-1847612407525433611?l=idontbelieveinhomework.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://idontbelieveinhomework.blogspot.com/feeds/1847612407525433611/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8725547191180223081&amp;postID=1847612407525433611' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8725547191180223081/posts/default/1847612407525433611'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8725547191180223081/posts/default/1847612407525433611'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://idontbelieveinhomework.blogspot.com/2009/03/one-with-how-tuh-roll.html' title='The One With How Tuh Roll'/><author><name>estherrr.</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_LgI256BCd-w/SO6VKtbVAJI/AAAAAAAAABg/CpOxttWmX9k/S220/five.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8725547191180223081.post-6317671616003057697</id><published>2009-03-14T21:10:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-03-14T21:23:36.617-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The One With The Big Molestake</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_LgI256BCd-w/SbyAg_DRe_I/AAAAAAAAAF0/4aspmZkWk0g/s1600-h/n1150048111_30391920_6752689.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 268px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_LgI256BCd-w/SbyAg_DRe_I/AAAAAAAAAF0/4aspmZkWk0g/s400/n1150048111_30391920_6752689.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5313262964559674354" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 51, 204); font-style: italic;"&gt;karvenbumbum's eighteenth. :)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_LgI256BCd-w/SbyAnt5HM8I/AAAAAAAAAF8/njxjL8KRV2A/s1600-h/n1150048111_30391934_3115733.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 268px; height: 400px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_LgI256BCd-w/SbyAnt5HM8I/AAAAAAAAAF8/njxjL8KRV2A/s400/n1150048111_30391934_3115733.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5313263080212739010" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 51, 204); font-style: italic;"&gt;stupid spankin' cowboy. -.-&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;.....................................................................&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;the past week has been absolutely wonderful. but it seems as though i've scream and squealed too loud that Life heard about just how happy Esther is and it swooped in to inject a little bit of unhappiness in her to balance it all out. i just hope its attempt backfired. fingers crossed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;it &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;really&lt;/span&gt; is gone.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 51, 204); font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8725547191180223081-6317671616003057697?l=idontbelieveinhomework.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://idontbelieveinhomework.blogspot.com/feeds/6317671616003057697/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8725547191180223081&amp;postID=6317671616003057697' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8725547191180223081/posts/default/6317671616003057697'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8725547191180223081/posts/default/6317671616003057697'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://idontbelieveinhomework.blogspot.com/2009/03/one-with-big-molestake.html' title='The One With The Big Molestake'/><author><name>estherrr.</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_LgI256BCd-w/SO6VKtbVAJI/AAAAAAAAABg/CpOxttWmX9k/S220/five.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_LgI256BCd-w/SbyAg_DRe_I/AAAAAAAAAF0/4aspmZkWk0g/s72-c/n1150048111_30391920_6752689.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8725547191180223081.post-7598338252354077708</id><published>2009-03-12T18:25:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-03-12T18:31:28.516-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The One With Flying Colors</title><content type='html'>yesterday - was a good day. but credit goes to Mr. Derrick Teoh, the wisest person i know thus far. :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8725547191180223081-7598338252354077708?l=idontbelieveinhomework.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://idontbelieveinhomework.blogspot.com/feeds/7598338252354077708/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8725547191180223081&amp;postID=7598338252354077708' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8725547191180223081/posts/default/7598338252354077708'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8725547191180223081/posts/default/7598338252354077708'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://idontbelieveinhomework.blogspot.com/2009/03/one-with-flying-colors.html' title='The One With Flying Colors'/><author><name>estherrr.</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_LgI256BCd-w/SO6VKtbVAJI/AAAAAAAAABg/CpOxttWmX9k/S220/five.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8725547191180223081.post-3009212648127648956</id><published>2009-03-04T22:57:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-03-04T23:10:29.965-08:00</updated><title type='text'>The One With Squeals &amp; Fingers Crossed</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;OMG OMG LOOK!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.mysimplifieds.com/blog/"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;(yoohoo click me)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;WOO! i didn't win or anything &lt;span style="color:#999999;"&gt;(yet, hopefully - woo!)&lt;/span&gt; but i'm one of the interesting entries! thankyou to the 13 people who voted for me! i was like, shit lah sure cannot win i got so little votes but hah! we showed 'em! &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;but right i find it weird that everyone who entered all wrote poems. i thought it's what you wanted to do for your valentine. but nevermind since my idea has rhymes in it anyway wooooooooooo! :D :D :D&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8725547191180223081-3009212648127648956?l=idontbelieveinhomework.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://idontbelieveinhomework.blogspot.com/feeds/3009212648127648956/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8725547191180223081&amp;postID=3009212648127648956' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8725547191180223081/posts/default/3009212648127648956'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8725547191180223081/posts/default/3009212648127648956'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://idontbelieveinhomework.blogspot.com/2009/03/one-with-squeals-fingers-crossed.html' title='The One With Squeals &amp; Fingers Crossed'/><author><name>estherrr.</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_LgI256BCd-w/SO6VKtbVAJI/AAAAAAAAABg/CpOxttWmX9k/S220/five.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8725547191180223081.post-1880852554766521484</id><published>2009-02-23T01:13:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-23T01:56:34.243-08:00</updated><title type='text'>The One With Fog Tonight</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;1. my neighbour, the one with the cutest, tamest labrador and this soft-toy puppy, just messed up my internet. it's only been about 23 hours - most of which i spent at work and sleeping - and already i'm depressed. i'm gonna kidnap Miu Miu and Mickey if he doesn't fix it back asap i haven't watched ANYTHING in the past um day.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;2. i think, i need a new job. i used to be the girl who smiled at everyone who worked on the same floor as me and i'd still do it even if they look at me like i'm nuts/look at the floor/run away. and now, i'm the one who looks at the people who smile at me eventhough they don't know me like they're nuts. or high. zomg i cannot cannot work in a cina-dominated company &lt;span style="color:#999999;"&gt;(you have to speak Manglish/sign language fluently if you want to be understood)&lt;/span&gt; otherwise i'd be driven to depression and have to go see a therapist. and i want to get a degree in Psychology screwed lah like this. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;3. early last week, i received somewhat depressing news.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;4. then later in the week, i received happy news &lt;span style="color:#999999;"&gt;(that i was supposed to receive long ago)&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;5. i decided that the depressing news is none of my business because - to be honest and i shamefully admit - i've been worrying that i too will encounter a situation like that and it's not easy to just grab it by its neck and throw it far, far away.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;6. speaking of throwing things by their neck far, far away - i'd like to do that very much to my boss.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;7. BECAUSE THE OTHER DAY SHE MADE ME FORGE MORE THAN 30 SIGNATURES.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;8. i swear, i had to put my fist in my pocket otherwise i would've punched her in the face. i can't stand anything unethical. i like things done professionally or according to how it's always been done. wah then this woman give me back the stack of forms which i filled out and asked me to go through all the files to copy the customers' signatures.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;9. okay to even out how horrible i made her sound, she's nice to me. like very nice sometimes she asks stuff about me and she'll tell me stuff 'bout herself like how she broke her spine &lt;span style="color:#999999;"&gt;(or something like that)&lt;/span&gt; during her honeymoon hahaha! laughing at the irony lah okay not happy she broke her spine. sigh. i remember that day. i was like, &lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;'aw man i'm so horrible i wanted to punch her just now and now i find out she broke her spine before and on her honeymoon somemore.'&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;10. and because of no. 1, i can't post my Valentine's Day pictures! i didn't even realize it had been a week till Sunday arrived and i was like having my breakfast in the morning before work and emo-ed cos the Sunday before i had omelette and scrambled eggs and pasta &lt;span style="color:#999999;"&gt;(i know i dunno why they served pasta for breakfast either)&lt;/span&gt; and my boyfriend reading newspaper like an old man across the table from me lol.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;11. i think i'm beginning to be very violent or developing some passive aggresive responses when i'm angry. i don't do any of them lah, but i keep thinking 'bout it that one day i'm worried i might. like punching my boss, who's a woman, almost everyday. and sometimes when my mom is taking me home from work and the traffic in KL is very bad i always see myself having a carton of eggs in my bag and i'll throw it onto the windscreen of the cars whose drivers are stupid/blur/inconsiderate/stupid/assholes/stupid - you get the picture. actually the egg one seems more likely cos right i'll just throw it and my mom'll *vroom* away and their windscreen'll be all eggy so they can't see who threw it WAHAHA!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;12. i think it's a good thing i'm gonna be studying Psychology so i can figure out what i'm suffering from.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;okay back to blog-hopping this might be all the internet i get for the rest of the week. :(&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8725547191180223081-1880852554766521484?l=idontbelieveinhomework.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://idontbelieveinhomework.blogspot.com/feeds/1880852554766521484/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8725547191180223081&amp;postID=1880852554766521484' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8725547191180223081/posts/default/1880852554766521484'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8725547191180223081/posts/default/1880852554766521484'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://idontbelieveinhomework.blogspot.com/2009/02/one-with-fog-tonight_23.html' title='The One With Fog Tonight'/><author><name>estherrr.</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_LgI256BCd-w/SO6VKtbVAJI/AAAAAAAAABg/CpOxttWmX9k/S220/five.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8725547191180223081.post-3954328123057974579</id><published>2009-02-16T06:01:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-16T06:03:58.990-08:00</updated><title type='text'>The One With Good News &amp; Bad News</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;The Good :&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He passed everything!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;The Bad : &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He can't fit into the shorts i got him! Arrgh!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8725547191180223081-3954328123057974579?l=idontbelieveinhomework.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://idontbelieveinhomework.blogspot.com/feeds/3954328123057974579/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8725547191180223081&amp;postID=3954328123057974579' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8725547191180223081/posts/default/3954328123057974579'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8725547191180223081/posts/default/3954328123057974579'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://idontbelieveinhomework.blogspot.com/2009/02/one-with-good-news-bad-news.html' title='The One With Good News &amp; Bad News'/><author><name>estherrr.</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_LgI256BCd-w/SO6VKtbVAJI/AAAAAAAAABg/CpOxttWmX9k/S220/five.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8725547191180223081.post-1356269466932293740</id><published>2009-02-14T19:30:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-14T19:53:11.301-08:00</updated><title type='text'>The One With The Morning After</title><content type='html'>1. i got elbowed in the face thrice throughout the night.&lt;br /&gt;2. we nearly got cheated out of getting our second 'Tower Of Affection' dessert at The Apartment.&lt;br /&gt;3. we left the camera in the car. ergo, no pictures of our fancy food. :(&lt;br /&gt;4. we're scared to death that we've to pay for the hotel bedsheets. cos of stains from the rose petals, mind you.&lt;br /&gt;5. when i was playing in the bathroom, i weighed myself and i gained 1 kg T.T T.T T.T&lt;br /&gt;6. no bubble bath.&lt;br /&gt;7. aand it was the best Valentine's Day ever! :D&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i saw so many couples out yesterday. before this i told myself to not wade in how excited i was about the 14th in case i got overexcited and splashed my little pool of happy glow at innocent passers-by. especially those who're bitter 'bout the 14th.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;but yesterday, i threw all that away and behaved according to how i felt - a smitten, giggly girl out with her boyfriend. cos you never know when you're in for a Valentine's Day drought. so live in the moment. ;)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;pictures asap! all super-staged, get your gag gears ready. :P&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8725547191180223081-1356269466932293740?l=idontbelieveinhomework.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://idontbelieveinhomework.blogspot.com/feeds/1356269466932293740/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8725547191180223081&amp;postID=1356269466932293740' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8725547191180223081/posts/default/1356269466932293740'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8725547191180223081/posts/default/1356269466932293740'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://idontbelieveinhomework.blogspot.com/2009/02/one-with-morning-after.html' title='The One With The Morning After'/><author><name>estherrr.</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_LgI256BCd-w/SO6VKtbVAJI/AAAAAAAAABg/CpOxttWmX9k/S220/five.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8725547191180223081.post-5989494927011954592</id><published>2009-02-09T23:26:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-10T18:36:09.946-08:00</updated><title type='text'>The One With Drama In Exchange For Votes</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 153, 153);"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;this, ladies and gents, is how i spent my unsupervised day at work yesterday - entering a Valentine's Day contest. i was instantly tempted because the prizes are either a vacation in Langkawi &lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 153, 153);"&gt;(woo can get Aaron's birthday present!)&lt;/span&gt; or Bali. it's basically posting a classifieds of what you'd like to do for your Valentine and then get your friends to vote so vote for me! &lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 153, 153);"&gt;(haha never thought i'd have to say this for any other reason than running for something)&lt;/span&gt; i've copy and pasted my entry below, please vote for me and i'll write less boring posts. maybe even write something personal or controversial woo O.O or i may reveal which blogger Karven and i loathe to no end. i'll tell you why, what she does to piss us off &lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 153, 153);"&gt;(okay more like piss Karven off but because i love her i get pissed off also wtf)&lt;/span&gt; aand include pictures. Very, very Xiaxue.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;but all that - will be revealed only if you vote for me haha.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;okay lah vote only if you think i deserve it. i did spend a while on rhyming the clues so pity me lah. in my entry i wrote about planning a mini treasure hunt for the Butthead on Valentine's Day morning :&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;early on Vday morning, i'll set up a mini treasure hunt for the Boyfriend to start off the day with a full tummy and warm fuzzies. warning : PG-13 content.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 153, 153);"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 153, 153);"&gt;'ingredients' :&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 153, 153);"&gt;Boyfriend's li'l brother.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 153, 153);"&gt;his fav choice of breakfast - nasi lemak, chocolate milkshake.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 153, 153);"&gt;something sweet - Hershey's kisses. (because  it's earned a role in  anything couple-cheesy.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 153, 153);"&gt;a new strip of the Dinofly Comic (our very own comic strip).&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 153, 153);"&gt;witty clues.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 153, 153);"&gt;Clue 1 (location - bathroom mirror) :&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 153, 153);"&gt;g'morning sunshine,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 153, 153);"&gt;when you read this you've probably still got traces of drool on your face,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 153, 153);"&gt;but *clapclap* wake up cos i've scattered a few things for you to find,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 153, 153);"&gt;the first is hidden within the four corners where we got to second base.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 153, 153);"&gt;Clue 2 (location - his pillow; item - pack of nasi lemak) :&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 153, 153);"&gt;*gasp* you must've,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 153, 153);"&gt;'how did this get here when a minute ago my head was on it?'&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 153, 153);"&gt;yep your mini you* is in on this little hunt i've wove,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 153, 153);"&gt;a task is to be completed for the next clue - whatever it is he demands, you are to fulfill the deed.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 153, 153);"&gt;*his little brother.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 153, 153);"&gt;(after he does whatever it is his bro asks for)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 153, 153);"&gt;Clue 3 (location - assumed to be held hostage by brother but is actually in the fridge; item - chocolate milkshake) :&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 153, 153);"&gt;how's it taste, the Tony Roma's concoction that i've tried to clone?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 153, 153);"&gt;you're probably a little anxious now,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 153, 153);"&gt;with the yummies you've found making your tummy groan,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 153, 153);"&gt;just proceed to your silver steed* and you'll find everything else, i vow.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 153, 153);"&gt;*his car.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 153, 153);"&gt;the comic strip will be stuck behind his windshield wiper and the Hershey's kisses scattered all over the hood of his car. attached with the comic strip'll be a pink bag (for him to collect all the chocolates and a note - '&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 51, 204);"&gt;can't wait to see you tonight :)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 153, 153);"&gt;'&lt;/span&gt;)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Vote here : &lt;a href="http://www.mysimplifieds.com/AdSearch.aspx?intention=1"&gt;http://www.mysimplifieds.com/AdSearch.aspx?intention=1&lt;/a&gt;. Click&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 51, 204);"&gt; 'sort by date posted'&lt;/span&gt; and mine should be towards the top. You can tell by the super cheesy picture i used lol. There're two parts for my entry so vote for the first. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;p style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;Happy Valentine's, everyone. :)&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8725547191180223081-5989494927011954592?l=idontbelieveinhomework.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://idontbelieveinhomework.blogspot.com/feeds/5989494927011954592/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8725547191180223081&amp;postID=5989494927011954592' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8725547191180223081/posts/default/5989494927011954592'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8725547191180223081/posts/default/5989494927011954592'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://idontbelieveinhomework.blogspot.com/2009/02/one-with-drama-in-exchange-for-votes.html' title='The One With Drama In Exchange For Votes'/><author><name>estherrr.</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_LgI256BCd-w/SO6VKtbVAJI/AAAAAAAAABg/CpOxttWmX9k/S220/five.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8725547191180223081.post-4984414122749645042</id><published>2009-02-09T18:21:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-09T18:47:00.137-08:00</updated><title type='text'>The One With The Will To My Grace</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;the boss's wife just called! to tell me! that! she's not coming to work today! hallelujah! i love working alone! i've this fat list of things to do alone but definitely am way happier to do it with no direction than with her around. she's nice and everything, but my built-in smoke alarm for Manglish is extremely sensitive. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;one sentence and i'll start flinching.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;after finishing one season of Will &amp;amp; Grace, i really want a gay bff. :( Aaron's great and all but deep inside we both know he's straight. or do we? okay fine shan't wade in denial. he's straight. he'll never be able to really go lingerie shopping with a girl without looking at her all funny.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;......................................................................&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="color:#999999;"&gt;last night when i was clearing up my desk and erasing all traces of SPM from it, replacing it with my novels - i found old cards from previous Interact Club Valentine's Day finance projects.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="color:#999999;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;'Thank you for being the best friend to me.....'&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="color:#999999;"&gt;imperfect English, too many dotdotdots and kinda awkward. it was a mere 2 years ago. for the first time since i started cutting links, i felt bad. i thought of sms-ing and just asking how he's doing but too much has changed. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="color:#999999;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="color:#999999;"&gt;she was wrong, not all things go back to the way they were before we were thrown into the fire.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8725547191180223081-4984414122749645042?l=idontbelieveinhomework.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://idontbelieveinhomework.blogspot.com/feeds/4984414122749645042/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8725547191180223081&amp;postID=4984414122749645042' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8725547191180223081/posts/default/4984414122749645042'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8725547191180223081/posts/default/4984414122749645042'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://idontbelieveinhomework.blogspot.com/2009/02/one-with-will-to-my-grace.html' title='The One With The Will To My Grace'/><author><name>estherrr.</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_LgI256BCd-w/SO6VKtbVAJI/AAAAAAAAABg/CpOxttWmX9k/S220/five.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8725547191180223081.post-229793504568167783</id><published>2009-02-07T18:47:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-08T02:02:17.714-08:00</updated><title type='text'>The One With Gamophobia</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;10.50am :&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i declare today Multiple Posts Day. at work now and i am too lazy to get Twitter so i'll be adding posts throughout the day. there's another birthday party and i'm a little terrified by the number of sullen kids. why do parents plan birthday parties to start at 10 in the morning?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;//edit&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;1.53pm :&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;just finished with the birthday party. i'm having lunch and watching the Wedding Planner. i've turned up the volume to its max but still the kids are drowning out everything. saw loadsa cute kids with matching cute dads hehe. alright back to reading lips.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;//edit&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;3.29pm :&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;still on lunchbreak. :P&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;//edit&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;4.16pm :&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://img410.imageshack.us/img410/5562/img0148au8.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="border: 0px solid black; margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 299px;" src="http://img410.imageshack.us/img410/5562/img0148au8.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 51, 204); font-style: italic;"&gt;fuglyhair.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;2+ hours more to go! T.T i've kinda made my target today so i think i'm gonna stop now. or maybe later i'll get up again and ask people to buy our stuff. which i feel horribly guilty for trying to sell. i took pictures of these two siblings who were so adorable - the brother was hugging his little sister with his head on hers and they both had on the cutest forced smiles ever.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;//edit&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;5.31pm :&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_LgI256BCd-w/SY6mmYYE85I/AAAAAAAAAFU/W8UKJu5KPro/s1600-h/Untitled-3.png"&gt;&lt;img style="border: 0px solid black; margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 325px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_LgI256BCd-w/SY6mmYYE85I/AAAAAAAAAFU/W8UKJu5KPro/s400/Untitled-3.png" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5300356989770331026" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 51, 204);"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;yegads.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;bored bored bored. grabbed a photo of Facebook and played with Photoshop. one more birthday party and i'm free! :D&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;//edit&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;6pm :&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_LgI256BCd-w/SY6si9UkFbI/AAAAAAAAAFc/YzjCA7vUpdg/s1600-h/1234.PNG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 386px; height: 291px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_LgI256BCd-w/SY6si9UkFbI/AAAAAAAAAFc/YzjCA7vUpdg/s400/1234.PNG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5300363528037995954" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 51, 204); font-style: italic;"&gt;behind the booth; green screen; my tiny li'l corner; arrr.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;pack-up in half an hour. logging out now, g'bye.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8725547191180223081-229793504568167783?l=idontbelieveinhomework.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://idontbelieveinhomework.blogspot.com/feeds/229793504568167783/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8725547191180223081&amp;postID=229793504568167783' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8725547191180223081/posts/default/229793504568167783'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8725547191180223081/posts/default/229793504568167783'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://idontbelieveinhomework.blogspot.com/2009/02/one-with-gamophobia.html' title='The One With Gamophobia'/><author><name>estherrr.</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_LgI256BCd-w/SO6VKtbVAJI/AAAAAAAAABg/CpOxttWmX9k/S220/five.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_LgI256BCd-w/SY6mmYYE85I/AAAAAAAAAFU/W8UKJu5KPro/s72-c/Untitled-3.png' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8725547191180223081.post-4522965068254617394</id><published>2009-02-03T09:46:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-03T09:51:44.589-08:00</updated><title type='text'>The One With Revamping : Step Two, Three, Four Done</title><content type='html'>it's not brand new, added the border for the posts and mathbook background instead of notebook background. am going to bed now, 've been at this for too long. g'night. :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8725547191180223081-4522965068254617394?l=idontbelieveinhomework.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://idontbelieveinhomework.blogspot.com/feeds/4522965068254617394/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8725547191180223081&amp;postID=4522965068254617394' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8725547191180223081/posts/default/4522965068254617394'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8725547191180223081/posts/default/4522965068254617394'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://idontbelieveinhomework.blogspot.com/2009/02/one-with-tadah.html' title='The One With Revamping : Step Two, Three, Four Done'/><author><name>estherrr.</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_LgI256BCd-w/SO6VKtbVAJI/AAAAAAAAABg/CpOxttWmX9k/S220/five.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8725547191180223081.post-7805311464680850558</id><published>2009-02-01T22:50:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-01T22:55:34.945-08:00</updated><title type='text'>The One With Revamping : Step One Done</title><content type='html'>Everybody lemme know if you can see the favicon next to my URL&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 153, 153);"&gt; (especially those of you using IE) &lt;/span&gt;and whether it looks like a pair of glasses or not. Thanks :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8725547191180223081-7805311464680850558?l=idontbelieveinhomework.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://idontbelieveinhomework.blogspot.com/feeds/7805311464680850558/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8725547191180223081&amp;postID=7805311464680850558' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8725547191180223081/posts/default/7805311464680850558'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8725547191180223081/posts/default/7805311464680850558'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://idontbelieveinhomework.blogspot.com/2009/02/one-with-revamping-step-one-done.html' title='The One With Revamping : Step One Done'/><author><name>estherrr.</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_LgI256BCd-w/SO6VKtbVAJI/AAAAAAAAABg/CpOxttWmX9k/S220/five.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8725547191180223081.post-2536493949348404691</id><published>2009-01-31T23:46:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-01T00:07:01.229-08:00</updated><title type='text'>The With The Chipmunk Chicks</title><content type='html'>i'm at BSC now, Sunday shift for my weekend job and i get this booth thing all to myself with a digital camera and laptop and internet connection that's so fast i've run out of things to do and now i'm watching kiddie movies.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;why kiddie movies?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;cos i work at this Megakidz-ish kinda place and the children love to come waddling to my computer and yell,&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 0, 204);"&gt; 'what you watching! what's that what's that? ghost ah? is it? is it a ghost? IS IT A GHOST!'&lt;/span&gt; so i pick kiddie movies just in case one of them comes so having them accidently hear words like &lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 51, 204);"&gt;'fuck'&lt;/span&gt; or &lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 51, 204);"&gt;'sex' &lt;/span&gt;wouldn't happen lol.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;my favourite customer today is Shaun, who kept yelling my name from inside the playground-prison asking if i'm done with his picture. and earlier there was this blond boy who was waiting for his daddy to put on socks so he skipped back and forth mumbling to himself then by the time he had to enter the playground, he was panting hahaha so cute!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;then there were these two girls who came in holding hands and they each had this tiny flower thing. i figured out what it was :&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;the one in a blue dress watched as her friend put on her socks then, out of boredom i suppose, she sniffed her flower and her eyes lit up, &lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 0, 0);"&gt;'HANNAH HANNAH SMELL MINE!'&lt;/span&gt; and she shoved the flower under her friend's nose.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;oh then there was this girl i almost convinced to buy our novelty stuff &lt;span style="color: rgb(192, 192, 192);"&gt;(i shall speak more honestly about how i feel 'bout the things i'm selling to those gullible, innocent kids once i quit this job) &lt;/span&gt;whose mom said she doesn't want it now cos her daughter's all sweaty after playing so maybe next time. i think the girl had ADD or something cos she came back and kept asking me to go grab a balloon for her from the ceiling then when i started explaining that i couldn't, she stopped listening, glanced around and screamed,&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 204, 0);"&gt; 'MONKEY!'&lt;/span&gt; and proceeded to run away to the stuffed monkey stuck in the fake tree.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;very amusing, i can get used to this. ;)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8725547191180223081-2536493949348404691?l=idontbelieveinhomework.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://idontbelieveinhomework.blogspot.com/feeds/2536493949348404691/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8725547191180223081&amp;postID=2536493949348404691' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8725547191180223081/posts/default/2536493949348404691'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8725547191180223081/posts/default/2536493949348404691'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://idontbelieveinhomework.blogspot.com/2009/01/with-chipmunk-chicks.html' title='The With The Chipmunk Chicks'/><author><name>estherrr.</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_LgI256BCd-w/SO6VKtbVAJI/AAAAAAAAABg/CpOxttWmX9k/S220/five.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8725547191180223081.post-4737588060687757617</id><published>2009-01-29T07:55:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-29T08:50:25.240-08:00</updated><title type='text'>The One With My Take On Bumming</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_LgI256BCd-w/SYHR3Jj7voI/AAAAAAAAAEo/2Drii2Gz6g4/s1600-h/hillbillies.png"&gt;&lt;img style="border: 0px solid black; margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 161px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_LgI256BCd-w/SYHR3Jj7voI/AAAAAAAAAEo/2Drii2Gz6g4/s400/hillbillies.png" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5296745382154059394" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 51, 204); font-style: italic;"&gt;28thjan'09.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 51, 204);"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;it's only the end of January and already i'm fidgeting like crazy not having college to go to. how am i gonna survive till July! T.T i can already feel myself becoming more stupid and i'm getting more and more forgetful. i'm forgetting unimportant things but i hate struggling to remember names and things i used to know. on Wednesday the Butthead and i watched Underworld III and he said the creepy man with the creepy eyes is that octopus captain from Pirates Of The Carribean.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and i spent the rest of the movie trying to remember to octopus captain's name. and i slept also lah but i was thinking of his name too so finally i gave up and googled it and now i'm all relieved &lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 153, 153);"&gt;(Davy Jones Davy Jones) &lt;/span&gt;but still - i feel like my brains are melting.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;okay anyway for those of you who are taking SPM this year and you'd like a break after - which is probably none - here's how it's like waiting for SEVEN MONTHS till your break is over.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. you feel like you're getting more stupid.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. you start spacing out everytime you've to do simple math and usually ask the person closest to you to do it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. days pass by in a flash cos all you do is eat, sleep, watch TV shows and you begin losing track of dates.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4. so you get a job so you wouldn't feel so useless and it's nice to have money.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5. if you're unlucky, you get a boss who speaks Manglish&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 153, 153);"&gt; (like me aaaargh)&lt;/span&gt;. therefore, no. 4 backfires and you start becoming even more stupid because you're so used to having to communicate in Manglish during work that it starts leaking into your overall speech. the other day i spelled &lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 51, 204);"&gt;'your' &lt;/span&gt;as &lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 51, 204);"&gt;'you're'&lt;/span&gt;! i absolutely HATE it whenever i read it on other people's blog cos it's such an unnecessary mistake to make and i made it. it's like having always been a unicorn and suddenly one day you look down and you're a donkey. &lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 153, 153);"&gt;*emo*&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;6. then after 2 weeks or so of work - which usually isn't much if it's office work - you get bored. and work starts getting reeeally easy. and you're back at no. 1 cos you're so used to it that it's like putting on underwear so you're still getting more stupid. and you get excited over things like lunch and riding in the elevator to pass stuff to other departments.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;7. later on though, you will counter-attack the boredom with ways to amuse yourself. like scheming to make phone calls to your boyfriend with the office phone &lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 153, 153);"&gt;(once my boss was out and i talked for more than an hour gahahaha)&lt;/span&gt; or doing your work and surf at the same time thus making you much slower but you reason with yourself that you're depressed with this job and deserve whatever fun you get squeeze out of your daily 8 hours.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;8. at the end of the month, you get your salary. things don't seem that bad anymore. you tell yourself to go on working but really it's the love for moolah talking. i wonder if this is how adults can stay at a crappy job for years - just for the money.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;haih i dunno lah i hated studying for SPM so much but i go all green now when my friends say they've got exams. okay must keep my goal in mind save enough to put a downpayment for a car. but i'm not going to buy a car lah, just like having that much money huhu. i've got a weekend job now so maybe that paired with my 4-day week job it'd be enough to keep me occupied. still have to think of a solution for the becoming stupid thing though.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;goodluck to all you lucky bums who've got exams to study for. hate all of you hmph.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 51, 204); font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8725547191180223081-4737588060687757617?l=idontbelieveinhomework.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://idontbelieveinhomework.blogspot.com/feeds/4737588060687757617/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8725547191180223081&amp;postID=4737588060687757617' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8725547191180223081/posts/default/4737588060687757617'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8725547191180223081/posts/default/4737588060687757617'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://idontbelieveinhomework.blogspot.com/2009/01/one-with-my-take-on-bumming.html' title='The One With My Take On Bumming'/><author><name>estherrr.</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_LgI256BCd-w/SO6VKtbVAJI/AAAAAAAAABg/CpOxttWmX9k/S220/five.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_LgI256BCd-w/SYHR3Jj7voI/AAAAAAAAAEo/2Drii2Gz6g4/s72-c/hillbillies.png' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8725547191180223081.post-2464422830507242551</id><published>2009-01-25T05:35:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-29T09:10:47.784-08:00</updated><title type='text'>The One Where I've Seen The Light</title><content type='html'>everyone, recently i have come to realize what i want to do with my life. i have seen that money isn't important. i have seen that worldly treasures only provide short-lived happiness. i have seen that being so conscious about one's appearance&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 153, 153);"&gt; (especially losing weight)&lt;/span&gt; is such a waste of time. i have applied to go on a homestay program in India and will be leaving in March, i'm so excited!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;okay now, if you're a JAKE or Jits or Aaron and your eyes are bulging a little out of your sockets and your mouth slightly ajar - shame on you. let's see how many things are wrong with the paragraph above :&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;a) money is EXTREMELY IMPORTANT. i've said it before that i like sniffing it so of course i love it, therefore it's important wtf. Jits should know this he likes sniffing money too. i think we sniffed it together once haha.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;b) okay my Sunday School teachers would be so disappointed with me but you know that RM25 black satin dress i wore to IU Day, the one i crowned the best purchase of 2008? yea well i still smile whenever i see it in my wardrobe cos it was such a wonderful find - perfect fit, cheap, and so pretty. it's been like months but i still get happy when i see it so it isn't&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; that&lt;/span&gt; short-lived. can't wait till i get another chance to wear it huhu.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;c) now this one should be a big fat clue - me saying working hard to be skinny is &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;a waste of time&lt;/span&gt;? i swear i'm gonna be one of those moms who'll pack her gym clothes in the same bag as the one she's grabbing to go to the hospital when her water breaks. if i don't go back to my normal size after i give birth, i'll bake my baby. either that or my husband - whoever my unstable self decides is at fault for inflating me grr.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;d) and the homestay program is probably the only thing remotely true in that paragraph 'cept not to India lah it's a bit too ambitious to start there. i'm thinking of saving up and maybe going on one during a break after my pre-U. maybe if i've enough i'll go to somewhere in Europe and bask in the culture.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;so anyway, i'm still my superficial wannarexic self. only i might be a bit sad that i don't have college to attend. but one awesome thing happened this week - i got another job! my mom had to take me all the way to Kelana Jaya - the one place in KL where even if you handed her a GPS and a map with photos she'd still get lost - and she was so worried that i was gonna get kidnapped/raped/sacrificed. but it turned out really well. the company does some 3D image printing thing and my pay is a 3-digits number per day and i get to be around kids!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i was interviewed by a white guy so he got all my jokes - when i grow up, i'm gonna work for white people i feel so sad whenever no one gets my jokes - and i got called back at the end of the day. and i'll be in the BSC branch somemore - white kids! it's like Karven's Mt. Kiara kindy job huhu. life is wonderful &lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 153, 153);"&gt;*happy sigh*&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;oh this afternoon the Butthead was trying to prove that he knows music really well - i don't doubt it 'cept he usually knows the names of songs and artists but he can never cough it out, always at the tip of his tongue. i was saying Jun-Elle's probably the most knowledgable person i know when it comes to music since she knows old fuddy duddy songs to the new stuff and he asked me to test him so i asked if he knew ABBA :&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);"&gt;din : ya there the musical was made out of all their songs right?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153);"&gt;est : ah huh what's the name of the musical?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);"&gt;din : there the - the - something to do with period wan - &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153);"&gt;est : HAHAHAHAHA!&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 153, 153);"&gt;(he meant 'Menopause', totally different musical)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);"&gt;din : the one with alot of women and that actress from The Devil Wears Prada. what's the name of the song?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153);"&gt;est : wtf the song is the name of the musical!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);"&gt;din : yea was hoping you'd say it.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153);"&gt;est : wth hahahaha! what's the name of the musicaaalll?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);"&gt;din : um...er..oh Mouthwash?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and here, everyone, is where i fell backwards laughing very hard. oh don't worry, we were on the bed so my now hardly-ever-used head didn't get hurt.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i'm gonna spend the rest of my evening watching The Big Bang Theory and maybe Twilight Zone. can anyone recommend a scary episode for the Twilight Zone? i haven't watched any that scared me like the one with the gremlin yet.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;aaand Happy Chinese New Year :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8725547191180223081-2464422830507242551?l=idontbelieveinhomework.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://idontbelieveinhomework.blogspot.com/feeds/2464422830507242551/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8725547191180223081&amp;postID=2464422830507242551' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8725547191180223081/posts/default/2464422830507242551'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8725547191180223081/posts/default/2464422830507242551'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://idontbelieveinhomework.blogspot.com/2009/01/one-where-ive-seen-light.html' title='The One Where I&apos;ve Seen The Light'/><author><name>estherrr.</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_LgI256BCd-w/SO6VKtbVAJI/AAAAAAAAABg/CpOxttWmX9k/S220/five.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8725547191180223081.post-1589219362192364140</id><published>2009-01-21T23:53:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-21T23:58:43.838-08:00</updated><title type='text'>The One With 6 Minutes Before Outage</title><content type='html'>1. My job is shit boring.&lt;br /&gt;2. I only get excited when my mom leaves her room cos i can make all the phone calls i want.&lt;br /&gt;3. So i applied for 3 other jobs.&lt;br /&gt;4. And now i've interviews for all of them, which rarely ever happens to me cos i always get 0/100 call backs.&lt;br /&gt;5. Now i've to choose either money or Karven's birthday, Valentine's Day, Jits' birthday, Din's birthday, and our 2nd anniversary. T.T&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Gaaah. 2 minutes left gotta go bubye.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8725547191180223081-1589219362192364140?l=idontbelieveinhomework.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://idontbelieveinhomework.blogspot.com/feeds/1589219362192364140/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8725547191180223081&amp;postID=1589219362192364140' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8725547191180223081/posts/default/1589219362192364140'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8725547191180223081/posts/default/1589219362192364140'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://idontbelieveinhomework.blogspot.com/2009/01/one-with-6-minutes-before-outage.html' title='The One With 6 Minutes Before Outage'/><author><name>estherrr.</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_LgI256BCd-w/SO6VKtbVAJI/AAAAAAAAABg/CpOxttWmX9k/S220/five.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8725547191180223081.post-2727277228061354776</id><published>2009-01-18T19:10:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-18T19:13:46.024-08:00</updated><title type='text'>The One With Reason #1786 Why I Like Being Alone</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;i can smile like an idiot all i want everytime i get a dorky message from him. :) &lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8725547191180223081-2727277228061354776?l=idontbelieveinhomework.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://idontbelieveinhomework.blogspot.com/feeds/2727277228061354776/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8725547191180223081&amp;postID=2727277228061354776' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8725547191180223081/posts/default/2727277228061354776'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8725547191180223081/posts/default/2727277228061354776'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://idontbelieveinhomework.blogspot.com/2009/01/one-with-reason-1786-why-i-like-being.html' title='The One With Reason #1786 Why I Like Being Alone'/><author><name>estherrr.</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_LgI256BCd-w/SO6VKtbVAJI/AAAAAAAAABg/CpOxttWmX9k/S220/five.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8725547191180223081.post-7547056710127485906</id><published>2009-01-14T20:30:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-14T20:33:17.014-08:00</updated><title type='text'>The One With The Girl Who's Got Pinkeye</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;it's lunchtime, and my boss isn't even here yet. all i've done all morning is read blogs and play polyvore. =D awesome day.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8725547191180223081-7547056710127485906?l=idontbelieveinhomework.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://idontbelieveinhomework.blogspot.com/feeds/7547056710127485906/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8725547191180223081&amp;postID=7547056710127485906' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8725547191180223081/posts/default/7547056710127485906'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8725547191180223081/posts/default/7547056710127485906'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://idontbelieveinhomework.blogspot.com/2009/01/one-with-girl-whos-got-pinkeye.html' title='The One With The Girl Who&apos;s Got Pinkeye'/><author><name>estherrr.</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_LgI256BCd-w/SO6VKtbVAJI/AAAAAAAAABg/CpOxttWmX9k/S220/five.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8725547191180223081.post-6390150648595663663</id><published>2009-01-14T05:35:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-14T06:16:51.709-08:00</updated><title type='text'>The One With The Skinny At Twenty-Three</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;today i realised i really shouldn't be blogging.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;no don't worry, not expecting any &lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 153, 153);"&gt;'no Esther! don't close down your blog!'&lt;/span&gt; with this. anyway, today i visited this girl's blog that i like reading despite how evil she is. well, by JAKE standards - she's evil haha. so there was an update and by now i'm used to her patterns she does all the outrageous things - running away from home, having sex with guys who don't appreciate it, battling an eating disorder, drug addiction, the works.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;so this really wild girl is completely on the wrong tracks yet someone like me likes reading about what she's up to. don't get me wrong, in no way do i envy her - i've no intentions of battling my eating disorder lol - but it's interesting. and i realised that blogging really is much better for the outrageous. people like me, who's sad cos she has nothing to study wtf, shouldn't be doing this.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;oh but that won't be the last you'll hear of me though. or my alter ego anyway. 've been thinking of starting another blog for awhile now except i really doubt any of you would read that kind of stuff so yeah.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;today i got miffed.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;some people have got absolute garbage as boyfriends. see, one thing i hate about certain girls is they &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;settle&lt;/span&gt;. it's like &lt;span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(153, 153, 153);"&gt;ho shit i'm 29 years old i'm gonna hit the big three oh i better get hitched with my boyfriend eventhough really he's more of a pet than a partner all he does is eat shit and jack off&lt;/span&gt;. okay so the boyfriend in question is not that bad but i still get annoyed when girls are okay with being doormats. like doing everything he likes, doing things &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;she&lt;/span&gt; doesn't like all the time but she does them anyway cos &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;he&lt;/span&gt; likes them, never saying anything when she's upset, and convincing herself she's happy and soo lucky - when she's not. i always think with personality and wit any girl can get to anywhere she wants. and on the way, bag any guy she wants. one may think if she's shit ugly then surely she can't get a hot guy but not all hot guys are out for only hot girls. and also, not all hot guys are worth being with - some of them are so pretty on the outside but completely empty in the head making conversation'd be a joke.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;today i killed my baby.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i downloaded a virus into my computer, it multiplied like crazy, now my CD drive can't read any CDs or DVDs. i feel so weak and helpless when my computer isn't complete and i'm too chicken to tell my Mom i destroyed it. i can still go online and stuff but i'll have to replace it or buy a new computer altogether. i hate my life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;gonna watch Gossip Girl with yoghurt and mourn.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8725547191180223081-6390150648595663663?l=idontbelieveinhomework.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://idontbelieveinhomework.blogspot.com/feeds/6390150648595663663/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8725547191180223081&amp;postID=6390150648595663663' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8725547191180223081/posts/default/6390150648595663663'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8725547191180223081/posts/default/6390150648595663663'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://idontbelieveinhomework.blogspot.com/2009/01/one-with-skinny-at-twenty-three.html' title='The One With The Skinny At Twenty-Three'/><author><name>estherrr.</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_LgI256BCd-w/SO6VKtbVAJI/AAAAAAAAABg/CpOxttWmX9k/S220/five.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8725547191180223081.post-888647801722355828</id><published>2009-01-12T02:11:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-14T05:33:18.327-08:00</updated><title type='text'>The One With Virtual Streaking</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_LgI256BCd-w/SW3pRzk4a8I/AAAAAAAAAEg/cdUcCnzL9SE/s1600-h/P1021361.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_LgI256BCd-w/SW3pRzk4a8I/AAAAAAAAAEg/cdUcCnzL9SE/s400/P1021361.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5291141629342149570" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 51, 204);"&gt;somethingsomethingchai.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 51, 204);"&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;i'm stuck in the office now waiting for my mom to be done with her work. i'd finished like an hour ago, my boss's wife spent the last hour gaping at the Opera browser i downloaded - which is nothing special - cos anything that isn't IE is better and cooler and i cleared off some Godzilla virus off their laptop and now i think they love me haha. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;with 6+ months ahead of me, initially i was thinking of working till May then sign up for classes to learn something new. Cos so far the only productive thing i do is read and i feel bad not doing something productive that i hate. like studying. but i can't study anyway cos i don't have anything to study unless i go out and buy that fat book on precalculus i saw when i spent my 2-hour break at Times but what if i don't understand then i'd have wasted all the hard-earned money i got from deleting Godzilla viruses off my boss's laptop on nothing wtf.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;so i was thinking either : &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;1. Dance Classes &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 153, 153);"&gt;(i'll be forced to exercise cos i'm paying for the classes and i'll feel to guilty to skip any)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;2. Sewing Classes &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 153, 153);"&gt;(cos nothing ever fits me properly and i hate how expensive it is to just cut something shorter and sew it back when i send it to the tailor's. might as well do it myself hmph)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;3. Wine Course &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 153, 153);"&gt;(no idea how i'm gonna get to this i'll have to ask Auntie Helen cos the only thing i know is the wine supplier at W.I.P. provides this)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;4. work somemore cos you can never have too much money.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;though i don't think i'm good with money when it actually does reach me. i was trying to put off getting my pay from W.I.P. in case i spent it on things that i claim i need. like how i 'need' that necklace i saw online the other night just cos it had a teapot pendant. and i 'need' to buy more books to read cos it's good for me but i have 3 lined up for me now. and cos Jun-Elle is going back to Penang for CNY, i 'need' her to buy the first season of Samantha Who for me cos it's cheaper there. see - i'm horrible with money. i should just keep shoving in money into my account and forget the password wtf. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;6 months of battling with myself ahead. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8725547191180223081-888647801722355828?l=idontbelieveinhomework.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://idontbelieveinhomework.blogspot.com/feeds/888647801722355828/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8725547191180223081&amp;postID=888647801722355828' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8725547191180223081/posts/default/888647801722355828'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8725547191180223081/posts/default/888647801722355828'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://idontbelieveinhomework.blogspot.com/2009/01/one-with-virtual-streaking.html' title='The One With Virtual Streaking'/><author><name>estherrr.</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_LgI256BCd-w/SO6VKtbVAJI/AAAAAAAAABg/CpOxttWmX9k/S220/five.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_LgI256BCd-w/SW3pRzk4a8I/AAAAAAAAAEg/cdUcCnzL9SE/s72-c/P1021361.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8725547191180223081.post-3058662275254052521</id><published>2009-01-10T04:49:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-10T05:26:27.474-08:00</updated><title type='text'>The One Where 'It Should Be Africa Right?'</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://img179.imageshack.us/img179/1623/flashlighteg1.png"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="http://img179.imageshack.us/img179/1623/flashlighteg1.png" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(153, 51, 153);"&gt;hello wonderful, wonderwall speaking.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153);"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;i've had&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; the most boring good week. i started another job, this time doing admin work at an insurance agency with my mom. it's very dull work, nothing compared to W.I.P. but the fact that i can go to work at lunchtime cos i'm sleepy is a plus. i feel bad but still - getting to sleep all i want is an advantage. on my second day my boss's wife (who's supposed to be telling me what to do) spent my last two hours calculating premiums for if i bought thisthisthatthat insurance wtf.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;last night was spent at Wonks'. Karven is officially the new sleepyhead huhu she fell asleep way before i did. then i mentioned food to Jun-Elle and got her tummy rumbling so we snuck past her dad who was sleeping infront of the TV to get to instant noodles. they've all started college already and i heard so many new names it made my head dizzy. =(&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;.........................................................................&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Din told me 'bout this woman who'd just had a baby and i suppose she was suffering from baby blues cos when her husband had to divide his time between her and the newborn, he started paying more attention to the baby and the mom got jealous and stuck the baby in the oven and roasted it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;O.o&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;then i was like, &lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153);"&gt;'Shit i don't think i can have babies! I'd probably do that if i'm all depressed after giving birth better get a dog and train first wtf.' &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and then he started saying 'bout how if he was the guy who's in charge of punishing the woman, he'd torture her cos how can anyone bake their own kid. &lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);"&gt;'I'll stick her in the furnace but make sure it's one where i can still see her then when she's about to die, i'll take her out and then heal her abit like send her to the doctor or freeze her &lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 153, 153);"&gt;(wtf! how does freezing help!)&lt;/span&gt; and then stick her back into the furnace and let her die.'&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;O.O&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ho shit i think i'm going out with Jigsaw.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(153, 51, 153);"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8725547191180223081-3058662275254052521?l=idontbelieveinhomework.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://idontbelieveinhomework.blogspot.com/feeds/3058662275254052521/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8725547191180223081&amp;postID=3058662275254052521' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8725547191180223081/posts/default/3058662275254052521'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8725547191180223081/posts/default/3058662275254052521'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://idontbelieveinhomework.blogspot.com/2009/01/one-where-it-should-be-africa-right.html' title='The One Where &apos;It Should Be Africa Right?&apos;'/><author><name>estherrr.</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_LgI256BCd-w/SO6VKtbVAJI/AAAAAAAAABg/CpOxttWmX9k/S220/five.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8725547191180223081.post-7031968230235644200</id><published>2009-01-06T16:26:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-06T16:48:50.636-08:00</updated><title type='text'>The One With The Waffle Man</title><content type='html'>sometimes i think i'm the luckiest girl in the world. of course many of you would not see it. &lt;span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(153, 153, 153);"&gt;wtf where got lucky nose so fat when you smile&lt;/span&gt;; &lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 153, 153); font-style: italic;"&gt;always wear black, white and grey&lt;/span&gt;; &lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 153, 153); font-style: italic;"&gt;eyebrows not even&lt;/span&gt;; &lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 153, 153); font-style: italic;"&gt;hair so fugly&lt;/span&gt;, etc.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i've been reading Cecelia Ahern's A Place Called Here. i thought i'd have to force myself into finishing it cos it's pretty windy and Karven said it was her least Cecelia Ahern novel. but i'm starting to like it. the heroine complains alot about how she hates who certain people in her life see when they look  at her. she hates who she is in their eyes. and that's why she avoids those certain people.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;for what seems like only a few months - but it's actually 20 months now &lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 153, 153);"&gt;(woo can fit two babies in there)&lt;/span&gt; - i like who he sees when he looks at me. i think i'm pretty psychotic as a girlfriend. the only plus i can think of having me around is he has someone to correct his spelling and grammar wtf. like the other day he ordered steak for dinner during Sharon's party and he spelled it as 'stake'. the thing you use to kill a vampire wtf.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;but still he looks at me like i'm the nicest, sweetest, politest girl he's ever known. still he treats me like the smartass i used to be and tells me to not go for certain courses cos it'd be &lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);"&gt;'a waste of my talents'&lt;/span&gt;. i don't know what these talents he speaks of look like or where i've put them - cos i can't seem to see them - but it cons me into believing i can bulldoze all the other competition out there with 'em.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;that is, if i ever find out what they are.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;PS : leaving nose piercing to close and repiercing before college because all my studs keep falling out. i lost two within a week. T.T&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8725547191180223081-7031968230235644200?l=idontbelieveinhomework.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://idontbelieveinhomework.blogspot.com/feeds/7031968230235644200/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8725547191180223081&amp;postID=7031968230235644200' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8725547191180223081/posts/default/7031968230235644200'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8725547191180223081/posts/default/7031968230235644200'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://idontbelieveinhomework.blogspot.com/2009/01/one-with-waffle-man.html' title='The One With The Waffle Man'/><author><name>estherrr.</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_LgI256BCd-w/SO6VKtbVAJI/AAAAAAAAABg/CpOxttWmX9k/S220/five.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8725547191180223081.post-7109797447630247434</id><published>2009-01-01T10:51:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-01T22:13:55.366-08:00</updated><title type='text'>The One With The Bests Of 2008</title><content type='html'>Happy New Year! More like belated anyway.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I haven't posted anything for about what, 2 weeks? It's been a real blur though things just kept popping up and with the Butthead on hols, it's practically heaven we can see each other so often compared to when he's got college. Speaking of college, i suppose it's settled i'll be going to Sunway for CIMP. I've gotten over my initial reaction to having to resort to Sunway instead of Taylor's for the Canadian Pre-U&lt;span style="color: rgb(192, 192, 192);"&gt; &lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 153, 153);"&gt;(that i'm going to be studying something meant for dumbasses)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; after the Butthead assured me that there're smart people in that course and it's not some slacker course. Not that i've the biggest brains known to man on my shoulders, but it's always better to be the dumbest amongst the smart than the smartest amongst the dumb.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So anyway - it just hit me the other day that school's starting next week! And i won't have to go! I wonder when the whole i-miss-school thing is suppose to hit cos i'm absolutely not getting it at all. In fact, not feeling stressed the past month has been so great. I forgot what it even felt like to be able to read all i want till 3 in the morning and not feel guilty when i wake up that i've wasted precious time that could've been used for studying.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh and i'm only starting college in July. =D Even though Veena thinks i'm gonna be a bum till i totally lose my nerding momentum from taking such a long break from studying, i'm gonna use that time very wisely and either do things i love or things that'd make me money wtf.  So alot of working ahead i suppose. And it's good in a way, i've always had something to do since i was Form 2 that i really never had holidays when i supposedly was on holiday.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Okay since 2008 finally got its fat ass out the door, i shall list the bests of the year - my very excited and happy wave goodbye to the most stressful year ever.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Starting with - &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Best Day Of The Year&lt;/span&gt; :&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_LgI256BCd-w/SV0VyqUECAI/AAAAAAAAAEI/sKLc4nBS4Y0/s1600-h/DSC00146.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_LgI256BCd-w/SV0VyqUECAI/AAAAAAAAAEI/sKLc4nBS4Y0/s400/DSC00146.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5286405497698912258" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No denying it, IU Day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was happy, relieved, glad, proud - &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;especially&lt;/span&gt; proud, and ecstatic. And that was &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;after&lt;/span&gt; it was over, imagine how i was during the whole thing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Best Pastime Of The Year&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I couldn't read anything new the whole year cos of SPM but the one thing i always made time for was seeing the Butthead. It's like when i spend time with him we're in this bubble where icky stuff like school and studying didn't exist. And we'd having conversations full of nonsense where we're babbling away with serious expressions like our rubbish makes total sense.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sleepovers are even better, we'd promise to study till late late at night but we'd end up watching TV till probably 1 and he'd pass out, then i'd have to turn off the lights and TV while he's dead asleep with his mouth lolling open. Last night we were so sleepy that i think he forgot i was there next to him. At one point his whole arm wrapped around my head and my face was completely covered - suffocating me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Best Triumph Of The Year&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm not sure if i can say best triumph but it'd have to be that feud between my petty English teacher and me &lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 153, 153);"&gt;(there i said it!)&lt;/span&gt;. It was probably pretty risky, given she was mentally unstable and all, but deciding to not let her mark my trial paper was so amusing even if she might've badmouthed me to the other teachers. Imagine you get the highest you've ever gotten all year, from a C at the start of the year and now suddenly an A1 &lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 153, 153);"&gt;(she only did that cos she got chicken when my Mom wrote a letter to request for another teacher to mark my paper hah)&lt;/span&gt; and the kid goes, &lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153);"&gt;'No i want marks i deserve. I'll get another teacher to mark my paper, thankyou.' &lt;/span&gt;which really is me saying, &lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153);"&gt;'I don't want a nutjob grading me.' &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Best TV Show Of The Year&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;According to me, despite how i used to go on and on about &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Veronica Mars&lt;/span&gt; - this year i award the No. 1 spot to &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Samantha Who&lt;/span&gt;. It's everything a girl'd wanna watch when stuff like &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Gossip Girl&lt;/span&gt; or &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;One Tree Hill&lt;/span&gt; has too much drama for your taste. This matters to me okay, i watch a bajillion TV shows every week. Oh speaking of which, has anyone watched &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Skins&lt;/span&gt; before? Apparently it's suppose to be as good as &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Gossip Girl&lt;/span&gt; but i don't get what they're saying half the time!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Best Dish Of The Year&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've only tried the pasta &lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 153, 153);"&gt;(the Golden Clam spaghetti in cream sauce mmm)&lt;/span&gt; from Hao Wei Dao this year indirectly cos of SPM. See, i usually never touch pasta or fast food or junk food when i'm not having big exams like PMR or SPM but when i do, i usually just let myself eat anything cos i've this i-need-the-energy tune replaying through my head. My normal diet really gets to me when i've to study alot cos i basically eat rabbit food pfft. Not literally lah, but alot of greens and i can go for months without eating any fast food. I remember when i was really determined to not eat any rubbish &lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 153, 153);"&gt;(even mamak food is counted)&lt;/span&gt;, i'd have a bowl of muesli &lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 153, 153);"&gt;(gross to me but it's filling)&lt;/span&gt; before our Friday nights out so i won't accidently order anything more than roti out of hunger.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Best Caffeine Fix Of The Year&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Earl Grey - once i stayed up till 5 after drinking it and slept for an hour and went to school but i felt fine. No headaches in the afternoon either. I've shed off my addiction to the Old Town milk tea (i feel sick whenever i drink it now) and i'm in love with the strawberry tea Charis got for me from Camerons which Derrick made for us before in class.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Best Object Of Ridicule Of The Year&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Obviously i can't mention her name - oops now you know it's a girl - but even without Karven and my wit to come up with reasons to add to the pile of existing reasons about how she sucks, her own blog is practically a goldmine. Sure she has little friends to defend her - compared to her, they &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;are&lt;/span&gt; little - but honestly if an impartial party were to speculate, he or she would have to give in that the girl is an imbecile who says all sorts of things that don't make sense and is practically screaming,&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 153, 153);"&gt; 'LOOK AT ME! READ MY BLOG! I'M SO COOL EVEN IF MY GRAMMAR AND BASICALLY EVERYTHING I SAY DOESN'T MAKE SENSE BUT I REALLY AM COOL REALLY REALLY'&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh, award for biggest attention whore'd goes hands down to her as well.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I may go to hell for the amount of times i laugh at how funny Karven gets when she's mocking her and of course - joining in, but i honestly think i'd be able to reason with Hades it's really not my fault because the girl really &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;is&lt;/span&gt; that stupid.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Best Purchase Of The Year&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's this dress i bought for Butthead and my anniversary and i wore it to IU Day underneath the cape. It costed me only RM25 and i bought it on a whim. I think i shall buy my dresses for formal events that way from now on. Just go shopping months before a reason presents itself and get a dress. I don't know why but i tend to never find anything i like if i go a week before.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Best Gift Of The Year&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Best Gift to me - It has to go to my friends when they cooked for my birthday. I'm really sorry i was so sick but it was really perfect for the hermit i am. =)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Best Gift from me&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 153, 153);"&gt; (and Jits)&lt;/span&gt; - the fedora for Kar Heng. You have NO IDEA how happy i was when i found it in Times Square. And after spending so much time there, i see alot of things sold on online boutiques for double the price. Seriously, RM25 dresses are bursting through every store in that place and you go pay RM50 for the same one. Sure, you won't have to be around the kinda crowd that's there but paying 100% more seems such a waste.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Alright now i tag :&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jun-Elle&lt;br /&gt;Veena&lt;br /&gt;Karven&lt;br /&gt;Kar Heng&lt;br /&gt;Sharon&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;G'night everyone. =)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8725547191180223081-7109797447630247434?l=idontbelieveinhomework.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://idontbelieveinhomework.blogspot.com/feeds/7109797447630247434/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8725547191180223081&amp;postID=7109797447630247434' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8725547191180223081/posts/default/7109797447630247434'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8725547191180223081/posts/default/7109797447630247434'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://idontbelieveinhomework.blogspot.com/2009/01/one-with-bests-of-2008.html' title='The One With The Bests Of 2008'/><author><name>estherrr.</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_LgI256BCd-w/SO6VKtbVAJI/AAAAAAAAABg/CpOxttWmX9k/S220/five.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_LgI256BCd-w/SV0VyqUECAI/AAAAAAAAAEI/sKLc4nBS4Y0/s72-c/DSC00146.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8725547191180223081.post-5839464259837084351</id><published>2008-12-22T07:40:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-22T08:11:19.069-08:00</updated><title type='text'>The One With The Extra Nostril?</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_LgI256BCd-w/SU-8HdnM1FI/AAAAAAAAAEA/5hwn5tv-0Bk/s1600-h/1234.PNG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 373px; height: 124px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_LgI256BCd-w/SU-8HdnM1FI/AAAAAAAAAEA/5hwn5tv-0Bk/s400/1234.PNG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5282647724323034194" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's been a week plus since i got my piercing and it doesn't hurt anymore when the stud comes out by accident and i've to push it back in. In fact, i only wear Mr. Bling during the day and take it off when i sleep cos once i woke up without it and i was so upset during the panicky 5 seconds i spent looking for it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3 more days everyone! 'Ve a feeling i'll be doing lotsa shoving and grabbing with the rest of the last minute Christmas shoppers. Knew it was impossible to finish a week before but am very used to it by now. Happy holidays y'all. =)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8725547191180223081-5839464259837084351?l=idontbelieveinhomework.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://idontbelieveinhomework.blogspot.com/feeds/5839464259837084351/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8725547191180223081&amp;postID=5839464259837084351' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8725547191180223081/posts/default/5839464259837084351'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8725547191180223081/posts/default/5839464259837084351'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://idontbelieveinhomework.blogspot.com/2008/12/one-with-extra-nostril.html' title='The One With The Extra Nostril?'/><author><name>estherrr.</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_LgI256BCd-w/SO6VKtbVAJI/AAAAAAAAABg/CpOxttWmX9k/S220/five.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_LgI256BCd-w/SU-8HdnM1FI/AAAAAAAAAEA/5hwn5tv-0Bk/s72-c/1234.PNG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8725547191180223081.post-5390728404313763166</id><published>2008-12-15T09:57:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-15T10:58:20.070-08:00</updated><title type='text'>The One With The Nicotine In Chocolate Men</title><content type='html'>curly hair. silver nose stud. 2-days-since-last-shave-ish beard. green jersey shirt. whiskey and water, on the rocks. laughs like a chick. with mouth wide open. now where have i seen&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; that&lt;/span&gt; before?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;..............................................................................&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;on Sunday, during my break, i'm gonna go up to the store with all the board games and special edition Barbies and find a box of magic tricks for the bartenders. providing it doesn't burn that deep a hole in my wallet, that is. but it's the least i could do. :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;..............................................................................&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;as Heri led the way, he gestured to a sour-faced man who resembled Mr. Bean (only 10 times hairier). &lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);"&gt;'Esther, this is Khalil, he's my assistant,'&lt;/span&gt; he introduced the man who looked like he was gonna eat me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;Then he furrowed his eyebrows as though he didn't understand and asked,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 102);"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 153);"&gt;'What is your name?'&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153);"&gt;'Esther,' &lt;/span&gt;answered i.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He bent down, &lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 153);"&gt;'What?'&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153);"&gt;'Esther,' &lt;/span&gt;repeated i.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 153);"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;Then  he straightened back up and said, &lt;/span&gt;'I'm master.'&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;O.O&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;..............................................................................&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;wait till Jun-Elle blogs about what they did to her. and i thought 'master' making me wear a &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;do not disturb &lt;/span&gt;sign on my wrist was bullying.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8725547191180223081-5390728404313763166?l=idontbelieveinhomework.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://idontbelieveinhomework.blogspot.com/feeds/5390728404313763166/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8725547191180223081&amp;postID=5390728404313763166' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8725547191180223081/posts/default/5390728404313763166'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8725547191180223081/posts/default/5390728404313763166'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://idontbelieveinhomework.blogspot.com/2008/12/one-with-nicotine-in-chocolate-men.html' title='The One With The Nicotine In Chocolate Men'/><author><name>estherrr.</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_LgI256BCd-w/SO6VKtbVAJI/AAAAAAAAABg/CpOxttWmX9k/S220/five.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8725547191180223081.post-7376000362527988404</id><published>2008-12-14T05:39:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-14T06:11:15.983-08:00</updated><title type='text'>The One With Mutated Oranges</title><content type='html'>=D =D =D&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm so absolutely happy with my job but i'm really scared that i might jinx it by saying it out loud cos that's how good stuff always turn out for me. It's like in the beginning you love it so much then it turns its back on you and bites you in the nose. Oh speaking of nose, i pierced my nose on Thursday! &lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 153, 153);"&gt;(wth damn shameless)&lt;/span&gt; And the Butthead is back from Langkawi so he'll officially be the first person to see my deformed button nose. Actually i was wrong 'bout it not hurting cos it hurts like crazy whenever i accidently pull it out too far&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 153, 153);"&gt; (to turn it)&lt;/span&gt; and i've to push it back in. It's like pushing a thick needle through a fresh, bleeding wound &lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 153, 153);"&gt;(ehehe Veena are you cringing)&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Okay so back to jinxing the awesomeness of my job, i shall talk about how awesome it is opposite-ly so as to not jinx it. So from here onwards, forget i said my job is awesome.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I completely despise my job. No no, i LOATHE it! It is the worst job i've ever had! Everything is so boring and dull and the people are even worse! They are so emo and quiet all the time! And the customers! All uneducated cows! Can't pronounce anything properly! And the bar manager is so mean, he doesn't teach me anything at all!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Eh shit i feel damn bad very hard to fake it. Okay fine since i've had 3 wonderful days working, i shall risk the rest by talking about it unopposite-ly.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You know, you'd think i'd prefer an office job in a super luxurious customized loft like last year. And it wasn't hard work, it wasn't that different from Secretary work plus the fridge is stocked with chocolates and yadayada but no - bartending at W.I.P. is a bajillion times better. I'm not showing off, just really want the rest of you to never wrinkle your nose at a job in the F&amp;amp;B industry like how i used to. Of course if i worked in the kitchen i doubt i'd be this happy lah but seriously, a job in a fancy restaurant&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 153, 153);"&gt; (not the kind where it's so silent that you can hear every clink of forks and knives against plates)&lt;/span&gt; is so worth it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Earlier the bar manager, Heri, came up to me and asked,&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);"&gt; 'do you want to see lizard eggs?'&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153);"&gt;'Yer no!' &lt;/span&gt;said i. Then he opened his palm and there were two M&amp;amp;M's in his hand. -.-&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 153, 153);"&gt;*Sigh*&lt;/span&gt; honestly didn't expect to like this job so much. I've to stand for 4-5 hours straight every shift but i don't mind at all nor do i feel tired. And i only take one toilet break every shift cos i'm always on the lookout for orders of drinks i can make lol damn kiasu.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And after my third mojito, Irfan was like,&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 204, 0);"&gt; 'now you can tell your boypren you can make mojito!'&lt;/span&gt; Lol erm actually the day before when i could only make half a mojito i already told the Butthead i could make it wtf.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Okay gonna go sleep now, sweet nightmares everybody.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8725547191180223081-7376000362527988404?l=idontbelieveinhomework.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://idontbelieveinhomework.blogspot.com/feeds/7376000362527988404/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8725547191180223081&amp;postID=7376000362527988404' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8725547191180223081/posts/default/7376000362527988404'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8725547191180223081/posts/default/7376000362527988404'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://idontbelieveinhomework.blogspot.com/2008/12/one-with-mutated-oranges.html' title='The One With Mutated Oranges'/><author><name>estherrr.</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_LgI256BCd-w/SO6VKtbVAJI/AAAAAAAAABg/CpOxttWmX9k/S220/five.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8725547191180223081.post-3092104599646722208</id><published>2008-12-13T07:27:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-13T08:04:36.141-08:00</updated><title type='text'>The One With Curly-Haired Stud</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Things I've Learned Today :&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. Jun-Elle was right, you know Khalil is kidding when you laugh then he laughs.&lt;br /&gt;2. Khalil may be skinny, but he can squish the daylights out of a girl.&lt;br /&gt;3. Sometimes when i think they're asking for &lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 153, 153);"&gt;'vodka'&lt;/span&gt;,they're really asking for&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 153, 153);"&gt; 'vater'&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;4. Everytime someone asks me where i'm from and i say,&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153); font-style: italic;"&gt; 'here'&lt;/span&gt;, i must remember to add in the fact that my BM is lousy cos otherwise they'd ask me to translate stuff like&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 153, 153); font-style: italic;"&gt; 'kecoh lah you&lt;/span&gt;' and i can only come up with &lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 153, 153); font-style: italic;"&gt;'stupid lah you' &lt;/span&gt;lol wtf.&lt;br /&gt;5. &lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 153, 153); font-style: italic;"&gt;'Compared to Elle, you are shy'&lt;/span&gt;. Wth i'm trying very hard okay today i sat with two girls whose names i don't know cos Heri forced to go sit down and said i cannot hide behind the bar during dinner and inhale all the smoke from their cigarettes.&lt;br /&gt;6. Don't let the customer see my eyebrows shoot up whenever they ask me for something i don't know how to make.&lt;br /&gt;7. And ask Khalil to do it instead.&lt;br /&gt;8. I am to never ever wash the beer glasses with soap.&lt;br /&gt;9. How to make an Apple Mint and a Shirley Temple.&lt;br /&gt;10. Zomg Indian customers are the best, they're funny and nice and even funnier once they're tipsy.&lt;br /&gt;11. I'm allowed to make coffee with the gourmet coffee behind the bar huhuhu T.T but not all the time.&lt;br /&gt;12. Bartending is seriously the best job a single girl can have. So yea i can't reap the benefits that come with it but i can't even if i weren't taken cos i look so tiny next to the guys and when i wanna get around fast, i skip. So really i just look like a 6-year-old who's accompanying her daddy on a Bring-Your-Kids-To-Work Day.&lt;br /&gt;13. It's okay to touch a customer's tummy lol hahaha i saw one of the waitresses asking a customer why didn't he finish his pizza then he said something like he didn't want to eat so much cos he's fat then she patted his tummy and said, &lt;span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(153, 153, 153);"&gt;'no laaah' &lt;/span&gt;haha.&lt;br /&gt;14. All the magic tricks the bartenders use to entertain the customers huhu i'm very proud i went through the props and figured out how to do everything.&lt;br /&gt;15. One of the managers' name is Magic. No seriously.&lt;br /&gt;16. When the customers ask you to dance, you've to escape to the back fast enough otherwise you'd have to do the Macarena or YMCA. Unless you're Michael, who boogies the whole night long.&lt;br /&gt;17. Everytime they teach me something new, remember to check the menu just to see the name of what i've learned. Cos i realized when Khalil said &lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 153, 153); font-style: italic;"&gt;'Boost'&lt;/span&gt;, i heard&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 153, 153); font-style: italic;"&gt; 'Goose' &lt;/span&gt;and when Irfan said &lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 153, 153); font-style: italic;"&gt;'Bubbly Mango'&lt;/span&gt;, i heard &lt;span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(153, 153, 153);"&gt;'Barbie Mango' &lt;/span&gt;lol.&lt;br /&gt;18. I owe Jun-Elle big time for getting this job for me. Thankyou Wonks. =)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8725547191180223081-3092104599646722208?l=idontbelieveinhomework.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://idontbelieveinhomework.blogspot.com/feeds/3092104599646722208/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8725547191180223081&amp;postID=3092104599646722208' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8725547191180223081/posts/default/3092104599646722208'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8725547191180223081/posts/default/3092104599646722208'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://idontbelieveinhomework.blogspot.com/2008/12/one-with-curly-haired-stud.html' title='The One With Curly-Haired Stud'/><author><name>estherrr.</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_LgI256BCd-w/SO6VKtbVAJI/AAAAAAAAABg/CpOxttWmX9k/S220/five.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8725547191180223081.post-6737227448895472508</id><published>2008-12-11T07:10:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-11T07:18:15.949-08:00</updated><title type='text'>The One With ALOT Of Blood</title><content type='html'>I got my nose pierced! =D&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And actually no, there wasn't any blood at all and it didn't hurt. To think my Mom was trying to stop me with some mumbo jumbo 'bout how i shouldn't pierce it at night just like how i shouldn't extract a tooth after noon cos the pain is &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;excruciating&lt;/span&gt; lol. The man who was piercing it had to pretend-glare at me so i'd stop laughing and sit still. I got a stud for it but i just realised i dunno how to change it once i can take the temporary one off. I shall ask Khalis or something.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;G'night all. =)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8725547191180223081-6737227448895472508?l=idontbelieveinhomework.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://idontbelieveinhomework.blogspot.com/feeds/6737227448895472508/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8725547191180223081&amp;postID=6737227448895472508' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8725547191180223081/posts/default/6737227448895472508'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8725547191180223081/posts/default/6737227448895472508'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://idontbelieveinhomework.blogspot.com/2008/12/one-with-alot-of-blood.html' title='The One With ALOT Of Blood'/><author><name>estherrr.</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_LgI256BCd-w/SO6VKtbVAJI/AAAAAAAAABg/CpOxttWmX9k/S220/five.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8725547191180223081.post-572478474109735146</id><published>2008-12-11T01:41:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-13T08:02:25.985-08:00</updated><title type='text'>The One With 'Hullo, Mum'</title><content type='html'>i've got a good feeling about this. i don't usually do, the only 'job' that i actually liked was raising the monsters. given they were easy and each came packaged with a sense of humor, they did make up for it in numbers. shall report back in a week. let's all pray i do not gain any weight with the food served during break because none of you - &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;none&lt;/span&gt; - will hear the end of it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and to the Butthead, i'm hoping to not miss you while you're in Langkawi cos missing you is pretty painful. not &lt;span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(153, 51, 153);"&gt;aaaaahhh end this misery lemme die lemme die&lt;/span&gt; kinda pain but more like &lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153); font-style: italic;"&gt;ooh i feel like kopitiam for dinner but aw damn he's not around to teman me and giggle at the tiny waiter who he fancies so much&lt;/span&gt; pain.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i've got half my Christmas presents done! you've no idea how happy i am because i'm always the last minute shopper and after last year, i vow to never leave it till the week before Christmas. oh and after a week of burying myself in books, i've decided that i'd love to get books for Christmas as much as shorts. given how i've just started reading again so i won't be asking for any fancy, unknown author's book but just plain ol' Meg Cabot &lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 153, 153);"&gt;(i don't have the 9th and Avalon High which sounds nice *hint hint*) &lt;/span&gt;and maybe J.K. Rowling &lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 153, 153);"&gt;(i don't have the 6th and 7th Harry Potter *hint hint*)&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;speaking of books, the other day i noticed the Bionic Woman's list of books she read and i was like shit! i've only read a total of one off her whole list and when i looked at the stuff i was reading i felt pretty noob lol i shall make it a point to read regularly again and be a little more adventurous and maybe tackle another Agatha Christie &lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 153, 153);"&gt;(the only one i liked was And Then There Were None and that was cos alot of people kept dying)&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;off to risk deforming a tiny bit of my face now. very excited but i might chicken out. =S&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8725547191180223081-572478474109735146?l=idontbelieveinhomework.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://idontbelieveinhomework.blogspot.com/feeds/572478474109735146/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8725547191180223081&amp;postID=572478474109735146' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8725547191180223081/posts/default/572478474109735146'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8725547191180223081/posts/default/572478474109735146'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://idontbelieveinhomework.blogspot.com/2008/12/one-with-hullo-mum.html' title='The One With &apos;Hullo, Mum&apos;'/><author><name>estherrr.</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_LgI256BCd-w/SO6VKtbVAJI/AAAAAAAAABg/CpOxttWmX9k/S220/five.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8725547191180223081.post-3547915609848605395</id><published>2008-12-08T06:33:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-08T07:15:54.012-08:00</updated><title type='text'>The One With Breakfast At Teatime</title><content type='html'>when i touch my hair or run my fingers through my fringe :&lt;br /&gt;i am a little nervous.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;when i look down :&lt;br /&gt;i do not want to look at someone, but don't necessarily dislike them. just, you know, don't wanna do the whole catch-their-eye-smile-awkwardly thing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;when i roll my eyes :&lt;br /&gt;if it's directed at a situation - it's stupid.&lt;br /&gt;if it's directed at a person - it's stupid.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;when i laugh with my mouth open :&lt;br /&gt;i'm with company i'm very comfy around. probably too comfy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;when i forgive :&lt;br /&gt;i (almost) never forget. unless it was something microscopic. but no, i've only said, &lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153);"&gt;'i'll forget everything' - &lt;/span&gt;and meant it - once. i surprise myself even now not being able to recollect any of the memory i've promised to erase.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;when i'm irritated :&lt;br /&gt;i pretend to lose interest in whatever's happening and turn my back to prevent my temper from rising.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;when i don't listen :&lt;br /&gt;it's because the person who's talking never did.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;......................................................................................................&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;why look, another cheese strand needs cutting.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8725547191180223081-3547915609848605395?l=idontbelieveinhomework.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://idontbelieveinhomework.blogspot.com/feeds/3547915609848605395/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8725547191180223081&amp;postID=3547915609848605395' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8725547191180223081/posts/default/3547915609848605395'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8725547191180223081/posts/default/3547915609848605395'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://idontbelieveinhomework.blogspot.com/2008/12/one-with-breakfast-at-teatime.html' title='The One With Breakfast At Teatime'/><author><name>estherrr.</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_LgI256BCd-w/SO6VKtbVAJI/AAAAAAAAABg/CpOxttWmX9k/S220/five.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8725547191180223081.post-7321151388967292331</id><published>2008-12-06T12:06:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-06T13:03:19.442-08:00</updated><title type='text'>The One With A Plug-In Koi Pond</title><content type='html'>It's officially only my 4th day as a full-time bum and i'm already restless from doing things i like all day long. I got my Sims 2 expansion packs to work and i played till 4 in the morning that same night and the next day i was bored with it already. I've finished one book but probably because it's Meg Cabot, everything she writes sounds like stuff going in my head so it's like just &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;thinking&lt;/span&gt; for me. I thought Sisterhood of the Traveling Pants'd be good since the movie is pretty good and the books are always better than the movies. Or so i thought. I'm returning it on Tuesday and i'm just gonna read however much i can till then cos it's so draggy and long-winded and not funny &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;at all&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So yesterday, i felt bad for not bothering to go job-hunting after exams are over. I was frantically checking everyday before my last few SPM papers and now with no stress at all, it's almost as if i don't function anymore. I flipped through the papers and looked for easy stuff to do. I saw alot of ads for kindergarten teachers but they're all so far away so i went to &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;data entry&lt;/span&gt; instead. It's basically just typing stuff they give you. I did it before for my mom's friend and it's really easy 'cept you've to do alot to get the kinda money you'd get being a waitress, sales assistant, etc. But you get to do it whenever you want and wherever you want lah.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So i called the number this ad gave and was told they'd be having interviews tomorrow (Saturday) and they gave me the address.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then the next day i went with my Mom and it was in this building in town &lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 153, 153);"&gt;(really depressing and old)&lt;/span&gt;. When we came out of the elevator, the hallway was like an apartment's 'cept in an office building and we found the unit number they gave us - my mom peeked in, looked at me and pursed her lips and told me to go.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The place was small and i tried not to scrunch my face at well - everything. I've been into tiny offices where the furniture are like 10 years old but this place was plain unpresentable. My mom clearly had the same thoughts going through her head. She told me to make sure to ask what is it they do exactly. This Malay woman who put on what seemed like toothpaste as foundation &lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 153, 153);"&gt;(frickin' white like a geisha except in a bad way)&lt;/span&gt; saw me and asked me if i'm here for the interview, i said yes, she told me to fill up some forms, i did so with my Mom next to me then passed it back. I noticed there were alot of people. Well alot to fill up that tiny office anyway. Like 9 people.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I waited for so long and in the mean time my Mom was planting all sorts of horrors into my head. &lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);"&gt;'Don't let them touch you they might use black magic and brainwash you' &lt;/span&gt;O.O and it was downhill from there cos i started thinking, SHIT what if they &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;jampi&lt;/span&gt; me SHIT what if i get raped SHIT what if they brainwash me so i'll go back to them after the interview and then they cut me open and sell my organs in the black market - so it was pretty painful waiting there with all sorts of images popping up in my head.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And i was thinking, i know it's rude to keep your cellphone on and to hold it during an interview but this place looks so crappy i doubt they actually care. So i typed this out -&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153);"&gt;'HELP I'M AT 8.16 WISMA COSWAY JLN RAJA CHULAN THIS IS NOT A JOKE THE INTERVIEW WAS FAKE CALL THE POLICE OR SOMETHING PLEASE'&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- to send to Veena, Jun-Elle, Kar Heng and Din. Just in case the person interviewing me locks the door and starts chanting to sacrifice me to demons or something. I was gonna send to Jit Siang also but he probably wouldn't believe me anyway T.T Yes i've got a very vivid imagination but you can never be too safe okay. Literally never.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then Toothpaste Foundation Lady called me in. And she started speaking really fast in BM like she was in a commercial. I was like zomg is she trained to say all this or something. So it was simple stuff at first, explaining that they're just the middleman getting paperwork done for their clients, one assignment is about 100 pages long, you've to do a minimum of four a month, etc. Then she said,&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 153, 153);"&gt; '- hanya perlu bayar RM163 untuk kos blablablabla untuk seumur hidup -'&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 153, 153);"&gt;*smacks forehead*&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;God that must be the oldest trick in the book. The pay-us-to-work-for-us trick. I felt silly that i thought they were gonna murder me. So when she finally paused to ask if i was interested &lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 153, 153);"&gt;(by that she means paying her on the spot)&lt;/span&gt;, i laughed and said no and left. My interview was over in 5 minutes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Earlier there was this Chinese girl who came out and she was like,&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 102, 0);"&gt; 'call saya ya!' &lt;/span&gt;all eagerly when i was still waiting for my turn. Pretty sad that she couldn't spot a dumbass scam like that. Mom was saying the office is probably so ugly and empty cos they're gonna run after they've gotten people's money.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sigh back to drawing board. But i think i'll just keep looking for something to do in January instead. After practically 4 years in a row of no real school holidays, i think one month wouldn't hurt me. Oh and Sims 2 University is so fun!&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 153, 153);"&gt; (it was the first day i installed it anyway)&lt;/span&gt; You can pick majors and do stuff like run around naked and join a sorrority!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can't wait till Tuesday. =D I shan't say how i'm gonna risk deforming a part of my face &lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 153, 153);"&gt;(just in case i chicken out)&lt;/span&gt; but i can't wait. Huhuhu can't wait. G'night everyone.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8725547191180223081-7321151388967292331?l=idontbelieveinhomework.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://idontbelieveinhomework.blogspot.com/feeds/7321151388967292331/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8725547191180223081&amp;postID=7321151388967292331' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8725547191180223081/posts/default/7321151388967292331'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8725547191180223081/posts/default/7321151388967292331'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://idontbelieveinhomework.blogspot.com/2008/12/one-with-plug-in-koi-pond.html' title='The One With A Plug-In Koi Pond'/><author><name>estherrr.</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_LgI256BCd-w/SO6VKtbVAJI/AAAAAAAAABg/CpOxttWmX9k/S220/five.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8725547191180223081.post-2466315618683610092</id><published>2008-12-04T06:14:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-04T07:57:42.339-08:00</updated><title type='text'>The One With Fertilizer Pills</title><content type='html'>They're very much like long, delicate strands of melted cheese. Like when you pull a fresh piece of pizza out of the box and a string of cheese just hangs on, stretching itself so far sometimes you have to bite it off. Very fragile, but you don't know how far you'd have to run or how hard you'd have to pull before it just splits soundlessly. Most of us of course, we choose to have as many of these little cheese strands linking us to others as possible. Sometimes it even seems like the one with the most is deemed better than the rest.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Once i used to have alot of these little strands tied to me, and i was very proud of it. And even more proud than i can withstand all the pulling and demand from the owners of said strands. It felt strangely good to be needed. The strands were made out of all sorts of cheese. There were the common ones, cheddar and mozzarella and etc, then there are the more expensive ones like the Muenster and Harvati that require you to earn your link to its owner.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You keep the common ones around because they're easy to be around. The pricier ones are inevitably for you to flaunt, despite how you'd say you truly treasure them and they're honestly nothing out of the ordinary. They require more attention but all the brown-nosing and schmoozing can really pay off.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Fresh cheese strands were the best. They're all new and smooth and it gave us an ego boost, even though we hide our delight and try to pretend it's nothing that we've added yet another to our little collection. Over time you'll notice the remaining strands will have alot of clumps in between. These are when you pull too hard or run too far and the strands break but still make an effort to mend the broken ends. Then there are those loose strands that don't connect to anyone, they just hang there to remind us of what we chose to leave behind. These happen very often.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Either one of you walked so far without looking back and ignoring all the pleas of the other trying to salvage whatever that's left or both of you did it as it was mutual that whatever remnants you have - just isn't worth saving. I'm guilty of having done the former many times. It's weird that some of these strands have to stretch across the globe and are able to survive yet the ones whose owners are so close by are the ones i choose to cut.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But some of us really are too different for another. One person's mozzarella can be another's limburger.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8725547191180223081-2466315618683610092?l=idontbelieveinhomework.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://idontbelieveinhomework.blogspot.com/feeds/2466315618683610092/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8725547191180223081&amp;postID=2466315618683610092' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8725547191180223081/posts/default/2466315618683610092'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8725547191180223081/posts/default/2466315618683610092'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://idontbelieveinhomework.blogspot.com/2008/12/one-with-fertilizer-pills_04.html' title='The One With Fertilizer Pills'/><author><name>estherrr.</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_LgI256BCd-w/SO6VKtbVAJI/AAAAAAAAABg/CpOxttWmX9k/S220/five.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8725547191180223081.post-5484395271113631318</id><published>2008-12-02T00:00:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-02T00:43:15.503-08:00</updated><title type='text'>The One With Death By Chocolate Cake</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_LgI256BCd-w/STTzFwN1NVI/AAAAAAAAADg/odc9MaxAbz0/s1600-h/spmisover.png"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 343px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_LgI256BCd-w/STTzFwN1NVI/AAAAAAAAADg/odc9MaxAbz0/s400/spmisover.png" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5275108343725503826" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(153, 51, 153);"&gt;scarecrowfingersahh.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1.&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt; SPM IS OVER!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. i've got the flu. and i feel a fever coming on too.&lt;br /&gt;3. missed an interview cos of said flu. pretty emo over it. the girl in charge could speak &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;English&lt;/span&gt;. almost all the jobs i've been applying for i can tell the person who posted the ad can't string a decent sentence together. like at all.&lt;br /&gt;4. four months of hols ahead!&lt;br /&gt;5. came home, turned on Desperate Housewives, slept till lunch arrived.&lt;br /&gt;6. can't go out or do anything yet - which sucks.&lt;br /&gt;7. downloading Sims expansion packs now! haven't played in 2 years! gahh!&lt;br /&gt;8. Mom brought home this crazy-amazing chocolate cake during the weekend.&lt;br /&gt;9. ZAMZAM IS BACK!&lt;br /&gt;10. good luck for geography, JitSiang! one more to go then we'll all be free togethergether!&lt;br /&gt;11. Christmas List :&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;a) _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ /    _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _&lt;br /&gt;b) _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ / _ _ _ _ _ _ _&lt;br /&gt;c) _ - _ _ _ _ _ _&lt;br /&gt;d) _ _ _ _ _ _!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 0, 0);"&gt;(a)&lt;/span&gt;, first word - 3 syllables.&lt;br /&gt;clue : colorless; see-through; jelly.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 0, 0);"&gt;(a)&lt;/span&gt;, second word - 3 syllables.&lt;br /&gt;clue : title of a Rihanna song; came out in a diagram for form4 Econs finals and Veena wrote bout it instead of the rain falling on it (or something like that); &lt;span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(153, 153, 153);"&gt;'under barack obama-bama'&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);"&gt;(b)&lt;/span&gt;, first word - 2 syllables.&lt;br /&gt;clue : most famous coffee brand in the world. probably the most expensive too.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);"&gt;(b)&lt;/span&gt;, second word - 2 syllables.&lt;br /&gt;1st syllable : fattest finger on one's hand.&lt;br /&gt;2nd syllable : opposite of clear.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 0);"&gt;(c)&lt;/span&gt;, 2 syllables.&lt;br /&gt;clue : most common piece of clothing in one's wardrobe that isn't underwear.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 153, 0);"&gt;(d)&lt;/span&gt;, 1 syllable.&lt;br /&gt;clue : what i need, love and wear the most. &lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 153, 153);"&gt;*sniffs*&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;off to get books to read! i haven't read anything new in a whole year! haven't seen the insides of the bookstore i used to go to for too long. g'bye, SPM. =D&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8725547191180223081-5484395271113631318?l=idontbelieveinhomework.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://idontbelieveinhomework.blogspot.com/feeds/5484395271113631318/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8725547191180223081&amp;postID=5484395271113631318' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8725547191180223081/posts/default/5484395271113631318'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8725547191180223081/posts/default/5484395271113631318'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://idontbelieveinhomework.blogspot.com/2008/12/one-with-death-by-chocolate-cake.html' title='The One With Death By Chocolate Cake'/><author><name>estherrr.</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_LgI256BCd-w/SO6VKtbVAJI/AAAAAAAAABg/CpOxttWmX9k/S220/five.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_LgI256BCd-w/STTzFwN1NVI/AAAAAAAAADg/odc9MaxAbz0/s72-c/spmisover.png' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8725547191180223081.post-370406238497822978</id><published>2008-11-24T07:45:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-24T08:11:07.160-08:00</updated><title type='text'>The One With The Most Important Decision I'll Ever Make II</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;is it one Maid of Honor and 3 bridesmaids?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8725547191180223081-370406238497822978?l=idontbelieveinhomework.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://idontbelieveinhomework.blogspot.com/feeds/370406238497822978/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8725547191180223081&amp;postID=370406238497822978' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8725547191180223081/posts/default/370406238497822978'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8725547191180223081/posts/default/370406238497822978'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://idontbelieveinhomework.blogspot.com/2008/11/one-with-most-important-decision-ill_24.html' title='The One With The Most Important Decision I&apos;ll Ever Make II'/><author><name>estherrr.</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_LgI256BCd-w/SO6VKtbVAJI/AAAAAAAAABg/CpOxttWmX9k/S220/five.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8725547191180223081.post-3669335331712734918</id><published>2008-11-24T07:09:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-24T07:35:41.505-08:00</updated><title type='text'>The One Where The Insomniac Resurfaces</title><content type='html'>I've been having trouble sleeping. Like alot of trouble, to the extent where if i close my eyes to force myself to sleep - i get a headache from keeping my eyes shut. Last night was probably the worst, i had a whole bunch of boring stuff lined up for me to think about before bed and none - of - them - worked. I woke up at lunchtime to Jordan's sms.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Judging how it was written in present tense, i replied accordingly while pulling the curtains so i needn't be bothered by sunlight. I don't care if everything around me is screaming that it's afternoon, it's nighttime if i want it to be.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then he called so i could tell him he's pretty lol. Well kinda anyway, i could tell the after-DIC fever had hit him and he missed it. Hope the rest of you had as much fun as he did, the boy sounded like he'd just come home from Disneyland. =)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The past week has been slow, but scary slow. I keep going through my economics book and i'm scared. The last time i got an A1 was also my first. I have no idea how i did it so i don't know how to redo that magic and this time it's SPM. Economics is one of those subjects where you've learn how to study it and not just headbutt it and study blindly. Like you actually do better if you stop thinking with your head and start memorizing instead. Cos you can read the chapters over and over again&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 153, 153);"&gt; (like how i used to)&lt;/span&gt; and still only get a B4.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I realised our trial paper was full of Form4 stuff so it was easier so what if this time it's full of Form5? I dunno what to do if they give me that import barang nampak thing cos i can never tell what is barang perantaraan!  And why is it that the latihan books seem to have more points than the reference books! It's like i might as well read the answers and chuck the long-winded explanations aside. Sigh.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And accounts. I feel bad cos i keep putting it off cos i'm more scared of Econs and i tried doing a question today and it said to do an 'Akaun Untung Rugi dan Akaun Pengasingan Untung Rugi' and i was like, 'heh?' cos usually it's Penyata Pendapatan dan Pengasingan Untung Rugi and i could just look behind for the format to start the question but noo i ran off to watch Hannah Montana instead telling myself i'll ask Derrick. And i won't be seeing him till Sunday. Sigh. But -&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- only one more week to go! Then! I can officially! Burn! My uniform! Wheehuhu!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;.....................................................................................&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8725547191180223081-3669335331712734918?l=idontbelieveinhomework.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://idontbelieveinhomework.blogspot.com/feeds/3669335331712734918/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8725547191180223081&amp;postID=3669335331712734918' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8725547191180223081/posts/default/3669335331712734918'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8725547191180223081/posts/default/3669335331712734918'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://idontbelieveinhomework.blogspot.com/2008/11/one-where-insomniac-resurfaces.html' title='The One Where The Insomniac Resurfaces'/><author><name>estherrr.</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_LgI256BCd-w/SO6VKtbVAJI/AAAAAAAAABg/CpOxttWmX9k/S220/five.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8725547191180223081.post-5826025465545526113</id><published>2008-11-19T05:16:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-19T05:33:03.075-08:00</updated><title type='text'>The One With The Most Important Decision I'll Ever Make</title><content type='html'>Din asked me to marry him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Haha wuz just kiddin' he didn't lol okay no the decision i'm going nuts trying to make is -&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- should i cut my hair short or not? Okay it's a rhetorical question cos nobody ever says anything in this blog except my sakai friends. Lol. I haven't used sakai since i was like 5. Lol. But yea i'm so frustrated. The other day Din left me to rot in his room so i did the most natural thing to past time - look in the mirror. And all of a sudden i liked my hair O.O i was so so set on cutting it after SPM to look like this :&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_LgI256BCd-w/SSQTIPR62wI/AAAAAAAAADQ/90xy_TEce7k/s1600-h/victoria-beckham-05.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 150px; height: 222px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_LgI256BCd-w/SSQTIPR62wI/AAAAAAAAADQ/90xy_TEce7k/s400/victoria-beckham-05.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5270358496191896322" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I might not do the one-side-long-one-side-short thing though. I've already announced to the whole world that i'm cutting it and all of a sudden - i like my hair now. Din said i might end up looking like a boy if the hairstylist butchers it. Then when i go to work the kids'll all call me Esther kor kor instead T.T&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sigh.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8725547191180223081-5826025465545526113?l=idontbelieveinhomework.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://idontbelieveinhomework.blogspot.com/feeds/5826025465545526113/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8725547191180223081&amp;postID=5826025465545526113' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8725547191180223081/posts/default/5826025465545526113'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8725547191180223081/posts/default/5826025465545526113'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://idontbelieveinhomework.blogspot.com/2008/11/one-with-most-important-decision-ill.html' title='The One With The Most Important Decision I&apos;ll Ever Make'/><author><name>estherrr.</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_LgI256BCd-w/SO6VKtbVAJI/AAAAAAAAABg/CpOxttWmX9k/S220/five.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_LgI256BCd-w/SSQTIPR62wI/AAAAAAAAADQ/90xy_TEce7k/s72-c/victoria-beckham-05.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8725547191180223081.post-385861526665423565</id><published>2008-11-19T04:49:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-19T05:10:59.689-08:00</updated><title type='text'>The One With Abandoned Broccoli &amp; Butter</title><content type='html'>i don't like what i see anymore. not that i used to, i just didn't mind it as much. it seems that everytime i try something new, it turns out to be something wrong. or it just doesn't feel as great as i thought it'd be. it's like i used to hear about oysters all the time in movies and stuff and how it's an aphrodisiac blablabla but when i did try it - it tasted like smelly one-month old fish.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;today i was about to try this new thing. i got it all set up, and gave it a shot. it didn't suck or anything, just so alien to me. i tried to finish one but i kept getting stuck.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;hmm. i wonder if i should continue.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i applied for a job today. it's in TD so it'd be really easy walking home everyday. i wanted to go back to RYO since that place is great after all. free chocolates, awesome interior, toilet that smells nice all the time. but Mom said they got someone already. i was upset but a little relieved. being in that place can really drain a person. it's like the perfect place to work at but when i look at all the adults around me, it scares me that i could turn out like one of them. i don't want to be like &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;any&lt;/span&gt; of them. i don't want to be the girl who gets scolded all the time and can't stand up for herself. i don't wanna be the woman who was once pretty and way ahead in her career but now she looks 10 years older than she really is and everyone hates her. i don't wanna be 29 and need a 16-year-old to call a repairman to fix my computer.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ah well maybe this other job'd be better. if i get it. kids don't bother me as much as adults do. they never think they're smarter just cos they've got more wrinkles. well cos they don't have any. or maybe this new thing'd work out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;..........................................................................................&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 153, 153);"&gt;what's &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;your&lt;/span&gt; stripper name?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8725547191180223081-385861526665423565?l=idontbelieveinhomework.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://idontbelieveinhomework.blogspot.com/feeds/385861526665423565/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8725547191180223081&amp;postID=385861526665423565' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8725547191180223081/posts/default/385861526665423565'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8725547191180223081/posts/default/385861526665423565'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://idontbelieveinhomework.blogspot.com/2008/11/one-with-abandoned-broccoli-butter.html' title='The One With Abandoned Broccoli &amp; Butter'/><author><name>estherrr.</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_LgI256BCd-w/SO6VKtbVAJI/AAAAAAAAABg/CpOxttWmX9k/S220/five.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8725547191180223081.post-1214485293956709127</id><published>2008-11-18T01:47:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-18T02:37:23.157-08:00</updated><title type='text'>The One With The Recycled Snapshot</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_LgI256BCd-w/SSKRagYHwnI/AAAAAAAAADI/kfb2aYlFeyo/s1600-h/27102008166.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_LgI256BCd-w/SSKRagYHwnI/AAAAAAAAADI/kfb2aYlFeyo/s400/27102008166.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5269934398530634354" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(153, 51, 153);"&gt;black yeowches.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Woo two-week break starts today! We just went through probably the most brain-killing day of SPM - Add Math and Moral in one day. My hand's got red patches already.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think it's very unfair though. Alot of us have to endure doing two writing-only subjects in one day and P. Islam is tomorrow. Pfft.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've been having this weird craving for chapati lately. This morning i wanted to go have breakfast &lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 153, 153);"&gt;(gasp!) &lt;/span&gt;before our Add Math paper but someone slept through all 32 of my calls. Okay maybe not 32 but it might as well be and not make a difference because when the Butthead sleeps it's like he boards a plane to Russia or something. And his sleep-talking hardly ever makes sense.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Once he mumbled something about MCA.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Another time it was about airplanes and strategy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And there was hotels once too.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The other day he rolled over, wrapped his arms around me and mumbled,&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);"&gt; 'aren't i adorable &lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);"&gt;zzz..'&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But i think cos i've told him so many times that he talks nonsense when he's asleep that once he mumbled something then i was like,&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153);"&gt; 'huh?'&lt;/span&gt; and he was like, &lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);"&gt;'no nevermind i talk alot of nonsense zzz..'&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sigh. Naps with the Butthead sure are amusing. I think the only other person i had funny memories that involved sleeping was Karven. Zomg that girl used to sleep like a stampeding elephant. Haha okay it was just that one time where i stayed over &lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 153, 153);"&gt;(we were like 8 i think) &lt;/span&gt;and i was very uncomfortable being away for the first time without my Mom. So i was awake when she'd fallen asleep and we were sharing a queen-sized bed and outta nowhere she rolled over, pushed me flat against the wall and grunted.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The other time it was during the scouts camp in Camerons. We had to wake up for jaga malam and we all slept like corpses so Wee Xian had to wait outside and hiss, &lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 153, 153);"&gt;'wake upppp'&lt;/span&gt; cos he can't enter a girl's tent. I woke up first so i tried waking Karven up. I shook her abit and all she did was grunt. So after a while i realised we really had to go otherwise - i dunno - we have to do pumping or something. I was a sissy girl so that scared me enough to get up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I got annoyed since she refused to wake up so i grabbed her by the shoulders, shook her like as if to check if she was alive or not and - nothing. Her eyes were still closed and mouth slightly open. Oh and i think she slept on Jun-Elle too. Yea she probably rolled over, grunted and just squished her.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wait - what was my point?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ah right, chapati. Um yeah. I feel like having chapati. I think imma go ask the Butthead out for supper because i can stay out late because i've just started my two-week break huhu! Oh in case any of you think SPM is over, it's not. It's just that we Ikhtisas students have two weeks till our Econs and Accounts paper.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Toodles.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8725547191180223081-1214485293956709127?l=idontbelieveinhomework.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://idontbelieveinhomework.blogspot.com/feeds/1214485293956709127/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8725547191180223081&amp;postID=1214485293956709127' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8725547191180223081/posts/default/1214485293956709127'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8725547191180223081/posts/default/1214485293956709127'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://idontbelieveinhomework.blogspot.com/2008/11/one-with-recycled-snapshot.html' title='The One With The Recycled Snapshot'/><author><name>estherrr.</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_LgI256BCd-w/SO6VKtbVAJI/AAAAAAAAABg/CpOxttWmX9k/S220/five.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_LgI256BCd-w/SSKRagYHwnI/AAAAAAAAADI/kfb2aYlFeyo/s72-c/27102008166.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8725547191180223081.post-3692312710648298540</id><published>2008-11-13T09:02:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-13T09:04:32.806-08:00</updated><title type='text'>The One With Our Big Send-Off =)</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_LgI256BCd-w/SRxd1tKnG9I/AAAAAAAAADA/I6PamhD5b6Q/s1600-h/5.png"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_LgI256BCd-w/SRxd1tKnG9I/AAAAAAAAADA/I6PamhD5b6Q/s400/5.png" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5268188841355189202" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(153, 0, 0);"&gt;I'm gonna miss you monsters. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8725547191180223081-3692312710648298540?l=idontbelieveinhomework.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://idontbelieveinhomework.blogspot.com/feeds/3692312710648298540/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8725547191180223081&amp;postID=3692312710648298540' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8725547191180223081/posts/default/3692312710648298540'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8725547191180223081/posts/default/3692312710648298540'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://idontbelieveinhomework.blogspot.com/2008/11/one-with-our-big-send-off.html' title='The One With Our Big Send-Off =)'/><author><name>estherrr.</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_LgI256BCd-w/SO6VKtbVAJI/AAAAAAAAABg/CpOxttWmX9k/S220/five.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_LgI256BCd-w/SRxd1tKnG9I/AAAAAAAAADA/I6PamhD5b6Q/s72-c/5.png' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8725547191180223081.post-4698862672715427313</id><published>2008-11-13T08:52:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-13T08:56:52.690-08:00</updated><title type='text'>The One With My Venus Flytrap</title><content type='html'>Six more to go! Sejarah is over! I can burn all my BM books! I slept for 5 hours after school today! That's why i can't fall asleep now! Why is my mouth open in 98% of all the pictures i take!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_LgI256BCd-w/SRxbvPMV25I/AAAAAAAAAC4/g93Oa_ZzgH8/s1600-h/1234.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 302px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_LgI256BCd-w/SRxbvPMV25I/AAAAAAAAAC4/g93Oa_ZzgH8/s400/1234.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5268186531206912914" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Just a li'l more to go. =)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8725547191180223081-4698862672715427313?l=idontbelieveinhomework.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://idontbelieveinhomework.blogspot.com/feeds/4698862672715427313/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8725547191180223081&amp;postID=4698862672715427313' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8725547191180223081/posts/default/4698862672715427313'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8725547191180223081/posts/default/4698862672715427313'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://idontbelieveinhomework.blogspot.com/2008/11/one-with-my-venus-flytrap.html' title='The One With My Venus Flytrap'/><author><name>estherrr.</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_LgI256BCd-w/SO6VKtbVAJI/AAAAAAAAABg/CpOxttWmX9k/S220/five.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_LgI256BCd-w/SRxbvPMV25I/AAAAAAAAAC4/g93Oa_ZzgH8/s72-c/1234.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8725547191180223081.post-5655988880078632177</id><published>2008-11-11T01:12:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-11T01:43:06.543-08:00</updated><title type='text'>The One With The Biggest Pain Of All Done With</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;One stove.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Two pans, two spatulas.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Two hungry monsters who're suppose to be studying.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;One's craving for cheese omelette, the other - mee goreng with too much curry powder.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;The tinier one did hers in silence, the bigger one did his like an action movie - with alot of flipping and 'yea, babeh!' as he threw in ingredients.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Kitchen smelled like curry and butter.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Sink filled with dishes.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Two happily fed monsters.&lt;/span&gt; =)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;..............................................................................................&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Zohmuhgod BM IS OVER! Yes yes no more using it except when i go mamak &lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 153, 153);"&gt;*sigh*&lt;/span&gt; so happy. T_T&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8725547191180223081-5655988880078632177?l=idontbelieveinhomework.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://idontbelieveinhomework.blogspot.com/feeds/5655988880078632177/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8725547191180223081&amp;postID=5655988880078632177' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8725547191180223081/posts/default/5655988880078632177'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8725547191180223081/posts/default/5655988880078632177'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://idontbelieveinhomework.blogspot.com/2008/11/one-with-biggest-pain-of-all-done-with.html' title='The One With The Biggest Pain Of All Done With'/><author><name>estherrr.</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_LgI256BCd-w/SO6VKtbVAJI/AAAAAAAAABg/CpOxttWmX9k/S220/five.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8725547191180223081.post-1015731848004421345</id><published>2008-11-09T23:25:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-09T23:39:13.886-08:00</updated><title type='text'>The One Where It's Tomorrow Gaahh!</title><content type='html'>The big day is tomorrow and this is gonna be the quickest post i've ever done in my life but i just have to cos otherwise i can't sit for my papers with all this happiness and gratefulness and zomg-i-don't-deserve-this-ness. I had the greatest weekend ever.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Friday was plain wonderful, to the new board - thankyou so much T.T and i'm very sorry i threw a big, fat tantrum and underestimated you guys. I was thinking of a compliment to replace the whole raising monsters thing but um..i don't know what is the opposite of monsters so i just wanna say i raised a bunch of un-monsters with my own hands lol wth.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You guys are gonna be great. Esther's looking forward to coming back next year and checking out how awesome things are and scaring you guys with all my piercings huhu! Okay fine la not that dahsyat it's just one piercing heh.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Extra sorry's to Khalis and Jordan who unfortunately had to see me be a big baby first hand.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And thankyou for the surprise party, we really, really appreciate it =D&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Plus i think you could tell from our guilty expressions.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now to those of us who're gonna sit for you-know-what -&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_LgI256BCd-w/SRfkneXE2yI/AAAAAAAAACw/W-7NjftoF0g/s1600-h/DSC00362.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 327px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_LgI256BCd-w/SRfkneXE2yI/AAAAAAAAACw/W-7NjftoF0g/s400/DSC00362.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5266929656048966434" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153);"&gt;- good luck.&lt;/span&gt; =)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8725547191180223081-1015731848004421345?l=idontbelieveinhomework.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://idontbelieveinhomework.blogspot.com/feeds/1015731848004421345/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8725547191180223081&amp;postID=1015731848004421345' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8725547191180223081/posts/default/1015731848004421345'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8725547191180223081/posts/default/1015731848004421345'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://idontbelieveinhomework.blogspot.com/2008/11/one-where-its-tomorrow-gaahh.html' title='The One Where It&apos;s Tomorrow Gaahh!'/><author><name>estherrr.</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_LgI256BCd-w/SO6VKtbVAJI/AAAAAAAAABg/CpOxttWmX9k/S220/five.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_LgI256BCd-w/SRfkneXE2yI/AAAAAAAAACw/W-7NjftoF0g/s72-c/DSC00362.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8725547191180223081.post-8060390282833060404</id><published>2008-10-27T09:14:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-27T09:59:00.986-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The One With Awek &amp; Amoi</title><content type='html'>to the one who uses me as a bolster and sometimes tickle my nose with his porcupine hair; the one who bends down to my height and ask me questions like,&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);"&gt;'li'l girl, are you lost? where's your mommy?'&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;just cos i'm short; the one who tells me my new shoes look like something a kid would wear eventhough he knows i'd throw a fit&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 153, 153);"&gt; (cos i happen to like my new ballet flats okay)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;; the one who giggles like a girl whenever i do imitations of him; the one who told me to do whatever i wish to do when i told him i think i need a nosejob;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153);"&gt;est : i think i'll save up for a nosejob, mine flares at the sides when i smile. it looks like Xiaxue's one before she got a nosejob.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);"&gt;din : do whatever you wish to babeh.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153);"&gt;est : wth you're supposed to say my nose is beautiful and i don't need a nosejob!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);"&gt;din : yea i know i was waiting for you to say that.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153);"&gt;est : wah you know me well.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);"&gt;din : yess i know you well.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153);"&gt;est : wth think you know me so well now isit!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 153, 153);"&gt;(don't ask me why i sound like i keep picking squabbles it's just damn fun to talk like that lol)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;the one who makes me feel i can do whatever i want - even if i seem too small or am not good enough -&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_LgI256BCd-w/SQXyyeMOQRI/AAAAAAAAACY/dE8FtbrH-Wc/s1600-h/18.png"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_LgI256BCd-w/SQXyyeMOQRI/AAAAAAAAACY/dE8FtbrH-Wc/s400/18.png" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5261878688564003090" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);"&gt;- happy 18th monthaversary.&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/span&gt;=)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8725547191180223081-8060390282833060404?l=idontbelieveinhomework.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://idontbelieveinhomework.blogspot.com/feeds/8060390282833060404/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8725547191180223081&amp;postID=8060390282833060404' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8725547191180223081/posts/default/8060390282833060404'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8725547191180223081/posts/default/8060390282833060404'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://idontbelieveinhomework.blogspot.com/2008/10/one-with-awek-amoi.html' title='The One With Awek &amp; Amoi'/><author><name>estherrr.</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_LgI256BCd-w/SO6VKtbVAJI/AAAAAAAAABg/CpOxttWmX9k/S220/five.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_LgI256BCd-w/SQXyyeMOQRI/AAAAAAAAACY/dE8FtbrH-Wc/s72-c/18.png' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8725547191180223081.post-4155823221980744588</id><published>2008-10-24T08:22:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-25T00:03:08.756-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The One With The Wunnerful Snowman</title><content type='html'>I think i'm not the only one who gets alot of &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;'Ok'&lt;/span&gt; replies from Derrick. Then there are times when he adds a little bit of funny in 'em.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153);"&gt;teacher, sorry i might be a bit late cos of the rain.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);"&gt;okay, swim faster!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153);"&gt;teacher, sorry i forgot to take down the time for my accounts paper tomorrow. can you help me check?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);"&gt;it's at 3pm but i can't finish the paper 2 in time. would you mind takin paper 1 first?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153);"&gt;oh okay i'll take paper 1 first.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);"&gt;okie dokie see ewe tomorrow then!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Only a few more classes and no seeing teacher thrice every week anymore. ='(&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;edit :&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153);"&gt;teacher, is there another time slot to take exam today after 3pm?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);"&gt;no la&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153);"&gt;T.T okay sorry&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);"&gt;it's ok, maybe we can find another time if you can't come today.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153);"&gt;nevermind it's better i take it today i don't want to study anymore hehe&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);"&gt;okaydo, see yu zat thereedo&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153);"&gt;teacher, i'm gonna be reaching at 3.30 my mom is late.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);"&gt;okie okie chillax whasup&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153);"&gt;hahaha i'm gonna put this on my blog&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);"&gt;noooooo!&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 153, 153);"&gt;(exact number of o's)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);"&gt;student blackmail teacher! call the ISA!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8725547191180223081-4155823221980744588?l=idontbelieveinhomework.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://idontbelieveinhomework.blogspot.com/feeds/4155823221980744588/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8725547191180223081&amp;postID=4155823221980744588' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8725547191180223081/posts/default/4155823221980744588'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8725547191180223081/posts/default/4155823221980744588'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://idontbelieveinhomework.blogspot.com/2008/10/one-with-wunnerful-snowman.html' title='The One With The Wunnerful Snowman'/><author><name>estherrr.</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_LgI256BCd-w/SO6VKtbVAJI/AAAAAAAAABg/CpOxttWmX9k/S220/five.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8725547191180223081.post-8385834209486231128</id><published>2008-10-24T05:22:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-24T05:56:18.760-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The One With Things You Just Don't Say Out Loud</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;i pick up my ticket and walk over to the huge mahogany doors. the boy standing guard mumbled to see my ticket. i can tell he doesn't want to cos he saw me pay just a few seconds ago but he's told to. i show him the ticket. the number's close to three digits this time. running my fingers through my hair, i walk in the best i could in these heels. i don't like wearing heels. but i'd rather suffocate my toes than allow my legs to seem shorter than they already are.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;people started to turn and look at me. my eyes darted to where it usually does - the floor. i reach into my bag for my phone. i wonder if anyone else has this reflex. grabbing for their phone whenever they're stuck in an awkward situation. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 0, 0); font-style: italic;"&gt;'esther!'&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; a deep voice accompanied with a smile greeted me. i give a toothy smile back. and he immediately begins complaining 'bout..well - everything. the familiarity of it all.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;i could dye my hair the colors of the rainbow, add on hundreds of piercings and tattoos or dress like it's Halloween all year round - i'll still come back. at least once.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lol if you actually get this and you think i'm silly - wait till you hear Jun-Elle's =P complete with background music and everything for her entrance.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Everyone have a nice long weekend, g'bye. =)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8725547191180223081-8385834209486231128?l=idontbelieveinhomework.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://idontbelieveinhomework.blogspot.com/feeds/8385834209486231128/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8725547191180223081&amp;postID=8385834209486231128' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8725547191180223081/posts/default/8385834209486231128'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8725547191180223081/posts/default/8385834209486231128'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://idontbelieveinhomework.blogspot.com/2008/10/one-with-things-you-just-dont-say-out.html' title='The One With Things You Just Don&apos;t Say Out Loud'/><author><name>estherrr.</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_LgI256BCd-w/SO6VKtbVAJI/AAAAAAAAABg/CpOxttWmX9k/S220/five.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8725547191180223081.post-5082105318158366212</id><published>2008-10-19T07:56:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-19T08:17:47.268-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The One With A Keeper</title><content type='html'>So the other day, i sewed 4 buttons. And by 'the other day', i mean a week ago because when have i posted anything close to the time it happened? 'Cept the time Jits pulled his Clark Kent stunt lah hehe. Back to the buttons - i got really excited once i was done because i don't ever do anything housewifey &lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 153, 153);"&gt;(because that's what my Mom is around for)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_LgI256BCd-w/SPtMHaytBwI/AAAAAAAAACA/T9kLx-ZRiBI/s1600-h/buttons1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_LgI256BCd-w/SPtMHaytBwI/AAAAAAAAACA/T9kLx-ZRiBI/s400/buttons1.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5258880680219969282" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I bought this online and it started off pretty sad cos it was too baggy for me. Now if ever i wanna buy anything online i'll scan and see if the girl modelling the clothes are small cos otherwise i'd end up buying a potato sack everytime. And when i took it to the tailor, i had to keep asking for it to be tighter and she kept protesting that if she made it as tight as i wanted, the shape of my boobs can be seen. -.- But it was a tunic so yea.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_LgI256BCd-w/SPtNsRbV4uI/AAAAAAAAACI/oViUR6WbWRw/s1600-h/buttons2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_LgI256BCd-w/SPtNsRbV4uI/AAAAAAAAACI/oViUR6WbWRw/s400/buttons2.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5258882412872852194" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here's me having the time of my life twirling around for the Butthead to see the pregnant dress &lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 153, 153);"&gt;(that's what he calls 'em)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; i put so much effort into. Eh not easy okay i needled my finger while doing it. And had to wait 2 weeks for the alteration to be done.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Okay this is probably the last time i'll be posting till SPM is over (22 more days aah!), so happy holidays to the form 3s and good luck staying sane to my fellow SPM victims. Roger and out.  =)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8725547191180223081-5082105318158366212?l=idontbelieveinhomework.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://idontbelieveinhomework.blogspot.com/feeds/5082105318158366212/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8725547191180223081&amp;postID=5082105318158366212' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8725547191180223081/posts/default/5082105318158366212'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8725547191180223081/posts/default/5082105318158366212'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://idontbelieveinhomework.blogspot.com/2008/10/one-with-keeper.html' title='The One With A Keeper'/><author><name>estherrr.</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_LgI256BCd-w/SO6VKtbVAJI/AAAAAAAAABg/CpOxttWmX9k/S220/five.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_LgI256BCd-w/SPtMHaytBwI/AAAAAAAAACA/T9kLx-ZRiBI/s72-c/buttons1.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8725547191180223081.post-1422586228906209640</id><published>2008-10-16T15:33:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-17T04:27:37.581-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The One Where I Was Right</title><content type='html'>I've thought through whether or not i should write about this with names and all. However i think the point isn't so much who is this teacher i despise so much but what she did &lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 153, 153);"&gt;(and what i did huhu)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; that is the point.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've written a long nameless post before this&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 153, 153);font-size:85%;" &gt; (even the subject she taught wasn't included)&lt;/span&gt; about this very stupid encounter.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I never thought i'd had to go through this ever with a teacher because even if they are, sometimes, very close-minded or they just don't like us for whatever reason, i never thought i'd have to deal with one who is so&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; immatured&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Our first English paper this year was a short one, all we had to do was write an essay. It was something about smoking. When i got back my paper, i was really shocked i got 54% but i told myself maybe i didn't get the question right or something. She insisted i explained to her what i was talking about so i did lah. And after like 10 minutes of her asking what did this and that meant in my essay - all i wanted to do was slap my forehead and go back to class because it was as if she spoke a whole different language, nothing i said could make sense to her. She said my first paragraph PROMOTED smoking. I gave up and just dealt with my first C5 in English.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then later on for my midterm i got an A2 but this time i really knew she had it in for me. For my first essay - which was some report on a break-in in the school library - i got really low cos it was 'too descriptive'. Good if it were for continuous writing/descriptive essay. Anyway i looked at Jun-Elle's paper and mine was shorter than hers and it was like basically the same thing and she got way higher!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was so pissed so i went to look for the English Ketua Panitia. Don't need names but anyway when i went to see her, she was at the canteen. So i think she could see i was really upset i couldn't even tell her properly what happened since there were other teachers listening i just asked her to please look at my paper and compare with Jun-Elle's.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);"&gt;'Who's your teacher?' &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When i told her, &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;all&lt;/span&gt; the teachers there snickered. And they're the good ones.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So later that day i got back my paper, she said there's nothing wrong with being descriptive and i definitely should have gotten more. I asked if it's possible for my Mom to write a letter asking for another teacher to mark my trial paper and it was. My Mom wrote the letter, came to see the PK Akademik, and i kept my fingers crossed till trials came and passed. I don't know why but i kept imagining her strangling me in the middle of class if she found out what i'd done lol might be because she threatens to kill her students.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh in case you're wondering - i'm not totally sure myself - i think she hates me because of the Interact Club. Something to do with her little buddy who was supposed to be our Teacher Advisor. Again this gets me into trouble alot but i don't care.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So when i got my trial paper back - &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;guess what&lt;/span&gt;? Whoaa all of a sudden from a C5 early in the year, with no difference in the way i write &lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 153, 153);"&gt;(i refused to change just to accomodate what &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(153, 153, 153); font-weight: bold;"&gt;she&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 153, 153);"&gt; thinks is right)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;, i got 34/35 for my first essay and 49/50 for my second. God i knew she'd do that just to shut me up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But ha ha i didn't, i passed my paper to the teacher who's supposed to mark my paper and she thought i wanted more marks. That was basically the point of getting another teacher in the first place - cos mine was giving me really low marks. Though i kinda knew she'd pull something like this so i insisted i wanted the other teacher to mark anyway cos i wanted marks i deserved from a competent teacher.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So from an 88%, i dropped to an 84% but am very proud of it lol at least i proved my point - it's not how high i got it's the fact that i didn't let that monster get what she wanted. Cos whether or not she likes it, she's a horrible teacher. Oh did i mention that during class - any answer other than hers is utterly wrong? Yes, even your &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;choice of words&lt;/span&gt; has to be like hers.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm so glad i'm leaving.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Moral of story &lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 153, 153);"&gt;(lol)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; : never let someone push you around just cos they're older or - &lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 153, 153);"&gt;in their eyes&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; - smarter than you. If you know for sure they're dead wrong, double check with someone else then &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;fight back&lt;/span&gt;. I'm not saying you should pick a squabble with every teacher that doesn't do or give you what you want, we can't always get what we want - but when you know you're being bullied don't be a sissy and just let them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Plus it's kinda fun when you know you've gotten to them and they can't fight back. ;)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8725547191180223081-1422586228906209640?l=idontbelieveinhomework.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://idontbelieveinhomework.blogspot.com/feeds/1422586228906209640/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8725547191180223081&amp;postID=1422586228906209640' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8725547191180223081/posts/default/1422586228906209640'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8725547191180223081/posts/default/1422586228906209640'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://idontbelieveinhomework.blogspot.com/2008/10/one-where-i-was-right.html' title='The One Where I Was Right'/><author><name>estherrr.</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_LgI256BCd-w/SO6VKtbVAJI/AAAAAAAAABg/CpOxttWmX9k/S220/five.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8725547191180223081.post-1654620818750353564</id><published>2008-10-15T12:39:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-15T13:19:07.136-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The One With Trophy Girlfriend By Day, Bolster By Night</title><content type='html'>i used to worry 'bout alot of awkward moments with boys before Butthead. even tiny stuff&lt;br /&gt;like accidently opening your mouth to say something when it's full. or how to zip through the silence when he does something embarrassing. like spit in your face when he's talking and you both know it's there on your face cos it's like right there.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;or if you're like me, he'd probably know from the mortified expression on your face between the second the spit left his mouth and when it lands.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;lol but that's never happened to the Butthead. nah he's in a whole other league. once he was sick and he was having dinner while i waited for him. he blowing his nose and throwing his tissues into a pile and normally, this'd gross me out. so yea it did.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153);"&gt;'You're so deesgusting,'&lt;/span&gt; i said.&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153);"&gt; 'Do you do this in front of your friends ah?'&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);"&gt;'No - '&lt;/span&gt; he replied,&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);"&gt; ' - but you're like family.'&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;poof&lt;/span&gt; just like that, no awkwardness. i didn't even find it gross anymore. cos after he was done with dinner i threw his mountain of tissues away for him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;then there're the times when zits  come visiting. this scared me more than most and what's worse is it's impossible to hide the ones that come when Aunt Flo is about to arrive.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;but we got through that too. he named on of them Penelope &lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 153, 153);"&gt;(we'd just watched Club Dread - don't watch if you're a girl)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; and i named his Percy&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 153, 153);"&gt; (cos my forehead kept accidently bumping into it and it hurt like crazy for him so i gave it a sissy boy's name)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;. both beginning with P cos P for pimple ma wth lol.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;yea well point is - long gone are the days i used to worry 'bout how to behave around boys. now, gotta go sleep 've got two hours before school. g'morning and toodles. =)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;....................................................................................&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;i stared up the ceiling and tried to stay as still as possible.&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 153, 153);"&gt; gah he probably won't realise even if i flung myself off the bed&lt;/span&gt;, i thought. i wiggled myself till i was as comfy as i could get. after a while i glanced at the fatso who's using my arm as his pillow. did you know he gained 10 kg? okay he isn't fat but his jawline is only visible now when he sticks his chin out hehehe.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;so right, i peered down at him and he was, with his mouth open, dead asleep. he was wide awake just minutes ago. then he blinked and rubbed his eyes. he lifted his head off my arm. something on it caught my eye.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153); font-style: italic;"&gt;'Yer you drooled on mee,' &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;i whined after i noticed the little mess he made on my arm.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;he bit his lip then wiped it with his hand then looked at me - as though it would erase his booboo. i smiled and looked away.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;if only he knew i've done it before. hehe.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8725547191180223081-1654620818750353564?l=idontbelieveinhomework.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://idontbelieveinhomework.blogspot.com/feeds/1654620818750353564/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8725547191180223081&amp;postID=1654620818750353564' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8725547191180223081/posts/default/1654620818750353564'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8725547191180223081/posts/default/1654620818750353564'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://idontbelieveinhomework.blogspot.com/2008/10/one-with-trophy-girlfriend-by-day.html' title='The One With Trophy Girlfriend By Day, Bolster By Night'/><author><name>estherrr.</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_LgI256BCd-w/SO6VKtbVAJI/AAAAAAAAABg/CpOxttWmX9k/S220/five.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8725547191180223081.post-3914196339509056568</id><published>2008-10-11T21:14:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-11T21:18:56.101-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The One With Two Very 'Appy Presidents</title><content type='html'>Muahahaha! It's like the what - tenth year in a row or something we've won?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_LgI256BCd-w/SPF6GN2KXpI/AAAAAAAAAB4/g3cjY5siveM/s1600-h/n748821814_1922733_2949.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_LgI256BCd-w/SPF6GN2KXpI/AAAAAAAAAB4/g3cjY5siveM/s400/n748821814_1922733_2949.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5256116487332716178" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But who cares! Our work here is complete. =D&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(153, 51, 153);"&gt;Viva La Interact!&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/8725547191180223081-3914196339509056568?l=idontbelieveinhomework.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://idontbelieveinhomework.blogspot.com/feeds/3914196339509056568/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8725547191180223081&amp;postID=3914196339509056568' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8725547191180223081/posts/default/3914196339509056568'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8725547191180223081/posts/default/3914196339509056568'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://idontbelieveinhomework.blogspot.com/2008/10/one-with-two-very-appy-presidents.html' title='The One With Two Very &apos;Appy Presidents'/><author><name>estherrr.</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_LgI256BCd-w/SO6VKtbVAJI/AAAAAAAAABg/CpOxttWmX9k/S220/five.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_LgI256BCd-w/SPF6GN2KXpI/AAAAAAAAAB4/g3cjY5siveM/s72-c/n748821814_1922733_2949.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8725547191180223081.post-5619684035221699565</id><published>2008-10-01T08:33:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-01T09:13:11.044-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The One Where We Go Visit Superman</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Good evening, i'm reporting live on today's supposed sighting of  Superman flying down a tiny hill in Taman Desa, Jln Klang Lama.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;Lol so today Aaron smsed -&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;'..Jits flew..covered in bandages..want to visit him later?'&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And i was wondering where the hell he flew to and more importantly - from what? So he explained that Jits pulled a Superman on the way home when he was riding down a hill and braked all of a sudden. I know it's not suppose to be funny but i (and Karven) couldn't help but laugh. It was the situation k, Jit Siang. We love you - that's why we came with munchies (Karven ate half of what she gave and Aaron didn't cook like he said he was going to) and Simpsons! =D&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_LgI256BCd-w/SOOeWOaCUHI/AAAAAAAAABI/ZnLnCLK_38Y/s1600-h/blogp1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_LgI256BCd-w/SOOeWOaCUHI/AAAAAAAAABI/ZnLnCLK_38Y/s400/blogp1.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5252215695105740914" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;All bandaged up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;His knees are plastered too and he said he saw his bone and i was like, &lt;span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(153, 51, 153);"&gt;maybe it's not your bone lah maybe it's tissue&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153);"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;and he went,&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);"&gt;ew!&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/span&gt;Yes it's a whole lot worse, tissue. He told us what happened which basically was just him riding down the hill, he braked and flew forward. Then he couldn't get up so he had to call his mom to come get him. I was trying to coax him into skipping a few days of school and he refused.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then later he chirped, &lt;span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(0, 0, 153);"&gt;eh maybe since i'm like this i can skip NS!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hahaha!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_LgI256BCd-w/SOOflDSsjzI/AAAAAAAAABQ/5U31E4-rimI/s1600-h/blogp2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_LgI256BCd-w/SOOflDSsjzI/AAAAAAAAABQ/5U31E4-rimI/s400/blogp2.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5252217049331830578" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Jits all emo.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;Okay end of the most on-time post ever! This happened today, not a month ago so i'm very proud of myself. I'm still not done &lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 153, 153);"&gt;(and probably never will be)&lt;/span&gt; with the Prefects' Farewell post. I got all sulky after finding a few photos were taken without flash so it was really, really dark and even when i photoshopped them to make them brighter it didn't do any good. My picture with Carrine and Kathleen was the saddest Carrine's whole face was wiped out only can see one eye. Sigh.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Off to watch 90210 and Greek now. Should do a review on all the shows i'm addicted to. There's a new one called Merlin and i'm starting on Doctor Who so i'm catching a li'l bit o' the Brit accent the more episodes i watch. G'night minions.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8725547191180223081-5619684035221699565?l=idontbelieveinhomework.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://idontbelieveinhomework.blogspot.com/feeds/5619684035221699565/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8725547191180223081&amp;postID=5619684035221699565' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8725547191180223081/posts/default/5619684035221699565'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8725547191180223081/posts/default/5619684035221699565'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://idontbelieveinhomework.blogspot.com/2008/10/one-where-we-go-visit-superman.html' title='The One Where We Go Visit Superman'/><author><name>estherrr.</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_LgI256BCd-w/SO6VKtbVAJI/AAAAAAAAABg/CpOxttWmX9k/S220/five.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_LgI256BCd-w/SOOeWOaCUHI/AAAAAAAAABI/ZnLnCLK_38Y/s72-c/blogp1.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8725547191180223081.post-4979505523863048682</id><published>2008-09-29T03:23:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-29T03:46:22.839-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The One With A Little Peek At Our Equivalent Of The Upper Eastsiders</title><content type='html'>I wonder whether it's really different in their world. Not that it sounds completely awful but having been here for so long, the whole materialistic fix doesn't seem as appealing as having friends who genuinely care for you and stand up for you even when you're wrong. Or having a boyfriend and not play mind games. Or being nice cos it's nice to be nice, not cos you would look good if you be nice.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153);"&gt;'So if i went to Cempaka, i wouldn't have any friends?'&lt;/span&gt; i asked.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 153, 0);"&gt;'Well either that or you'll eventually adjust to how they are,' &lt;/span&gt;he replied.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;DP, i may despise you for how things are done by the administration and teachers belittling students just cos they've an upperhand in the age deparment and yadayada. But you did bring all the best people i've ever met in my whole 17 years into my 'rife'. So yea.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;..........................................................................&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 153, 0);"&gt;'Look - juicy pineapple.'&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153); font-style: italic;"&gt;*silence*&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 153, 0);"&gt;'You're thinking of something dirty, aren't you?'&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153);"&gt; '...yea.'&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/8725547191180223081-4979505523863048682?l=idontbelieveinhomework.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://idontbelieveinhomework.blogspot.com/feeds/4979505523863048682/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8725547191180223081&amp;postID=4979505523863048682' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8725547191180223081/posts/default/4979505523863048682'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8725547191180223081/posts/default/4979505523863048682'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://idontbelieveinhomework.blogspot.com/2008/09/one-with-little-peek-at-our-equivalent.html' title='The One With A Little Peek At Our Equivalent Of The Upper Eastsiders'/><author><name>estherrr.</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_LgI256BCd-w/SO6VKtbVAJI/AAAAAAAAABg/CpOxttWmX9k/S220/five.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8725547191180223081.post-6574478546686106643</id><published>2008-09-25T07:44:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-25T08:28:56.271-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The One With A Flip Through The Old Stash</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://img81.imageshack.us/img81/6462/strip1se3.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 411px;" src="http://img81.imageshack.us/img81/6462/strip1se3.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm in an unusually good mood today.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Even seeing the &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;'49 Days' &lt;/span&gt;to SPM on teacher's board didn't depress me. Much. I went out with the Mother just now to stock up on tea and ironically that was the thing i forgot. But i'm very proud of myself for not getting irritated at all. More often than not i'd snap once my Mom starts straying away and i've to look for her like i'm the Mom. Damn annoying okay she can't walk straight wan all sorts of things attract her attention. Even those coin-slotting weighing machines that've your horoscope on the slip with your weight. -.-&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway it's been a good week - trials are over, i found the tweed shorts i've been dying for&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 153, 153);"&gt; (but i'm gonna go look for a better-fitting pair the one i found looks like bubble shorts blergh)&lt;/span&gt;, Jun-Elle+Veena's birthday celebration aaand i'm gonna finish up my resume this Saturday. I don't think it counts as a resume though. But shan't put too much hope on this just in case it doesn't work out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;.............................................................................&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Currently hooked on :&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. Gossip Girl &lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153);"&gt;(weekly dose of dramarama T.T)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. 90210 &lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153);"&gt;(i'm not sure why i like this show. i think cos there's alot of pretty people.)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. Greek &lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153);"&gt;(something 'bout frats and sororities - just so entertaining.)  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4. ANTM Cycle 11 &lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153);"&gt;(homg wonderful wardrobe, Mr. and Mrs. Jay and skinny girls - can't ask for more.)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5. Simpsons &lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153);"&gt;(Ralph Wiggum!)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;.............................................................................&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;Have a wunnerful weekend everyone. =)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8725547191180223081-6574478546686106643?l=idontbelieveinhomework.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://idontbelieveinhomework.blogspot.com/feeds/6574478546686106643/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8725547191180223081&amp;postID=6574478546686106643' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8725547191180223081/posts/default/6574478546686106643'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8725547191180223081/posts/default/6574478546686106643'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://idontbelieveinhomework.blogspot.com/2008/09/one-with-flip-through-old-stash.html' title='The One With A Flip Through The Old Stash'/><author><name>estherrr.</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_LgI256BCd-w/SO6VKtbVAJI/AAAAAAAAABg/CpOxttWmX9k/S220/five.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8725547191180223081.post-6552352718651805977</id><published>2008-09-21T06:43:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-21T07:03:44.635-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The One With The Camouflaged Loot</title><content type='html'>Usually i'm always late whenever the Butthead comes to pick me up. Today was no different. I did however make an attempt to get ready faster so i didn't wrap my hair in a towel before leaving, i took it with me instead. I started doing this after cutting my hair short cos for some reason wrapping your hair in a towel makes it softer. Something to do with humidity and moisture.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So as he turned on the telly, i tudung-ed myself and lied down. Then he lied down next to me and sniffed my head and between sniffs he raved about how my head smelt like peanut butter and butter. It felt weird having another head attached to mine - and his nose making it feel like i had a tiny vacuum cleaner at a spot - so i rolled around and stuck my head between pillows to ward him off till we settled down and watched America's Got Talent.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My shorts probably slid down a few centimeters from all that rolling but anyway i was lying down on my front, minding my own business when outta nowhere -&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153); font-style: italic;"&gt;'WEDGIE!'&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;O.O&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And just like that - my very first wedgie. Sigh well at least it was someone special.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8725547191180223081-6552352718651805977?l=idontbelieveinhomework.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://idontbelieveinhomework.blogspot.com/feeds/6552352718651805977/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8725547191180223081&amp;postID=6552352718651805977' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8725547191180223081/posts/default/6552352718651805977'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8725547191180223081/posts/default/6552352718651805977'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://idontbelieveinhomework.blogspot.com/2008/09/one-with-camouflaged-loot.html' title='The One With The Camouflaged Loot'/><author><name>estherrr.</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_LgI256BCd-w/SO6VKtbVAJI/AAAAAAAAABg/CpOxttWmX9k/S220/five.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8725547191180223081.post-4577935263063664692</id><published>2008-09-20T08:26:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-20T08:47:18.866-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The One With 43 Minutes</title><content type='html'>So the interview came and went. The waiting part was more excruciating than the interview itself. Having to sit alone since no one else from DP went was awkward especially with that group of shrill girls behind me who were loudly announcing to the world 'bout what they thought of Lucas and Peyton &lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 153, 153);"&gt;(they should just get married and have kids and get out of the picture yadayada - &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;hello? Lucas is the main eye candy of OTH, motormouth&lt;/span&gt;)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;. And boy was i wrong when i thought there wouldn't be any nerds, the boy in front of me brought his school bag and was doing physics.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh right - the interview. Let's just say it wasn't bad, it wasn't good either. But i'm glad my interviewer was nicer than the others. There were girls coming back to the hall traumatized and speechless and boys coming back, telling their friends how it went and defended whatever it is that spurred what seemed like an argument.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My interviewer thought i didn't know enough 'bout the course i chose. Which was true, but i certainly didn't really like how i was being lectured on the course she was under when i'm very sure i don't want to do it. Sigh. But you can't win it all. I'm just glad i got called at all.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As sad as those 3 hours were, the rest of the day was really awesome though =) Going to study accounts now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 153, 153);"&gt;PS : Round o' applause to Jordan and his board for how wonderful Pn. Phang's farewell was. You guys made teacher cry woohoo! =P&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8725547191180223081-4577935263063664692?l=idontbelieveinhomework.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://idontbelieveinhomework.blogspot.com/feeds/4577935263063664692/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8725547191180223081&amp;postID=4577935263063664692' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8725547191180223081/posts/default/4577935263063664692'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8725547191180223081/posts/default/4577935263063664692'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://idontbelieveinhomework.blogspot.com/2008/09/one-with-43-minutes.html' title='The One With 43 Minutes'/><author><name>estherrr.</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_LgI256BCd-w/SO6VKtbVAJI/AAAAAAAAABg/CpOxttWmX9k/S220/five.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8725547191180223081.post-5692798703905445635</id><published>2008-09-16T07:06:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-16T08:34:59.246-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The One With Three Months From Now</title><content type='html'>I sat down and had dinner while watching yet another episode of something that's not gonna help me get an A for add math tomorrow, or for any subjects for that matter. &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;After dinner i've to study&lt;/span&gt;, i thought to myself. I rolled my eyes at how sick it's getting to be, always having a book or pencil in my hand.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But thinking about it, 3 months from now, i won't be doing this anymore. No more reading Sejarah and cracking racist jokes for my own amusement in my notes. No more memorizing Moral nilais the night before the exam and typing all 36 out before bed. No more classes with Derrick thrice a week.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Since January i've been dreaming for that day to come. The day my last Econs paper finish and i'm free. Free not just from studying like a dog, but free from school. Which has morphed into a hellhole since the first time i set foot into SMK Desa Perdana. And i'd also be free from work, free from having to speak broken English with our magazine printer and get angry at the shitface designer for throwing away our students' artwork without asking.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'd always had the same little scene i replay over and over again in my head. It's really superficial. I see myself walking towards the entrance to Butthead's college after my classes are over for the day and it's so short but i keep replaying it, just with different outfits on me. Sometimes i'm with Karven but usually not &lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 153, 153);"&gt;(solly boss damn mafan to think of clothes for you also lol)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So it seems like the only thing i'm looking forward to is getting to pick what i wear everyday - which i know is gonna get tiring and irritating eventually.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But in my eyes i see it as finally getting to look the way i really am.  No more clipping up my fringe, no more wearing my skirts knee-length, no more fatass schoolbag.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Like everybody else, i'll probably suffer from missingitis by the time March arrives. &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Aw i miss school! I miss wearing my uniform! I miss Pn/En &lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 153, 153);"&gt;(insert name of fav teacher)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Or maybe i'll end up like the other handful who leave and never look back.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8725547191180223081-5692798703905445635?l=idontbelieveinhomework.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://idontbelieveinhomework.blogspot.com/feeds/5692798703905445635/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8725547191180223081&amp;postID=5692798703905445635' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8725547191180223081/posts/default/5692798703905445635'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8725547191180223081/posts/default/5692798703905445635'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://idontbelieveinhomework.blogspot.com/2008/09/one-with-3-months-from-now.html' title='The One With Three Months From Now'/><author><name>estherrr.</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_LgI256BCd-w/SO6VKtbVAJI/AAAAAAAAABg/CpOxttWmX9k/S220/five.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8725547191180223081.post-2636920672981281635</id><published>2008-09-12T08:35:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-12T09:00:10.888-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The One With The Anticipated Call</title><content type='html'>GAHHHH! Haveigotsomethingtotelleveryone! Actually not tell, more like brag because that's what we do when we've got something to be happy about muahahaha. Eh don't judge me k, you know you do it too.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So anyway. Today was like any other Friday. Oh except we had trials and had our English paper. But yeah nothing to go nuts over today. So during tuition my phone buzzed but i didn't care cos the Mom loves calling every Friday, between 4.30 to 6. To annoy me, i suppose, since i've told her so many times Derrick doesn't let us answer calls during class. So after tuition i checked my phone. But - the number wasn't my Mom's office number. It was a Subang number &lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 153, 153);"&gt;(don't ask me how i know this damn liuliu to tell)&lt;/span&gt;. And that only meant one thing for me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I started getting excited but still tried to calm myself down in case, you know, it's not what i was hoping it'd be. I kept redialling the number for 10 minutes because it was busy. I called my Mom to ask if they had called her instead since they couldn't get me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then i had an incoming call. It was the same number that called earlier. I said &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;omgthey'recallingagainbyebye&lt;/span&gt; to Mom and picked up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);"&gt;'Hello? May i know who is this?' &lt;/span&gt;said a woman on the other line.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153);"&gt;'Um Esther?'&lt;/span&gt; said i.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);"&gt;'Esther Leong Yuet Mei?'&lt;/span&gt; she asked.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153);"&gt;'Yes,'&lt;/span&gt; said i, shaking with anticipation.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);"&gt;'Okay i'm calling regarding the Taylor's Principals Award. You've been shortlisted to come for an interview next week - '&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 153, 153);"&gt;'AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!'&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/span&gt;screamed i, in my head.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;=D =D =D =D =D&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Interview's next week Saturday. Will be accompanied by the Butthead - gonna make him carry pompoms and cheer for me huhu! Lol no lah just gonna have him there to crack jokes and un-uptight me if i get all tensed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thankyou Veena for making me apply for it in the first place. Imma be treating myself to movies all night long woohoo, so have a great weekend everyone. =)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://img55.imageshack.us/img55/2411/eeetn1.png"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 300px;" src="http://img55.imageshack.us/img55/2411/eeetn1.png" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;I know i will.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8725547191180223081-2636920672981281635?l=idontbelieveinhomework.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://idontbelieveinhomework.blogspot.com/feeds/2636920672981281635/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8725547191180223081&amp;postID=2636920672981281635' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8725547191180223081/posts/default/2636920672981281635'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8725547191180223081/posts/default/2636920672981281635'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://idontbelieveinhomework.blogspot.com/2008/09/one-with-anticipated-call.html' title='The One With The Anticipated Call'/><author><name>estherrr.</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_LgI256BCd-w/SO6VKtbVAJI/AAAAAAAAABg/CpOxttWmX9k/S220/five.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8725547191180223081.post-1913598581459024910</id><published>2008-09-11T08:01:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-11T08:07:37.006-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The One Where It's Time For A New Map</title><content type='html'>As i wiped eyeliner off my eyelids, i glanced around my desk. Then around my room. &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Just a week ago i kept trying to find reasons to get out of this place.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then my eyes fell on my bottle of Benadryl. It's pretty much what's left of that weird phase. I've yet to figure out why i'd felt the way i did and reacted the way i had but i kinda know it's for a good reason. Despite how strange it all was.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now i'm almost back to normal, just with a few new modifications to the old. But i've a feeling it's not so much a good thing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ah well. =/&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8725547191180223081-1913598581459024910?l=idontbelieveinhomework.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://idontbelieveinhomework.blogspot.com/feeds/1913598581459024910/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8725547191180223081&amp;postID=1913598581459024910' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8725547191180223081/posts/default/1913598581459024910'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8725547191180223081/posts/default/1913598581459024910'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://idontbelieveinhomework.blogspot.com/2008/09/one-where-its-time-for-new-map.html' title='The One Where It&apos;s Time For A New Map'/><author><name>estherrr.</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_LgI256BCd-w/SO6VKtbVAJI/AAAAAAAAABg/CpOxttWmX9k/S220/five.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8725547191180223081.post-444920515219117122</id><published>2008-09-05T20:22:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-05T20:48:40.167-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The One With The Alienated Week</title><content type='html'>Okay i may not be able to finish the Farewell post but at the very least i'll upgrade-my-blood with something.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Last weekend was probably one of the most painful i've had &lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 153, 153);"&gt;(with all the pain centralized around my head)&lt;/span&gt; before i got sick &lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 153, 153);"&gt;(on my birthday somemore)&lt;/span&gt; i remember that Wednesday i was caught in the rain and i was walking just moderately fast not caring to run like the wind&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 153, 153);"&gt; (haha wth)&lt;/span&gt; and i remember at that exact moment i was thinking, &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;i should run faster might get a flu and trials is next next week&lt;/span&gt;. Then, &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;aiyah nevermind la sick only what get to skip school with note from doctor somemore.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So i bet Jesus wanted to teach me a lesson and i got sick - on my birthday. I remember waking up feeling funny but &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;it's-my-birthdaayyy!&lt;/span&gt; thoughts kinda just thumped it. Then when i got up from chatting with Brian &lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 153, 153);"&gt;(he's turning 20 tomorrow!)&lt;/span&gt; i felt all weak and like as if all the veins on my forehead were beatboxing and that's when it hit me i had a fever.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It sucked to be sick. But the Butthead accompanied me since he was sick too, but his started before mine and very much more dahsyat&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 153, 153);"&gt; (vomitting in the middle of the night and he hardly ate, which is a big deal cos compared to me he eats like the fattest boy in the world)&lt;/span&gt; so smses during those few days were like, &lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);"&gt;'did you get the cold sweat thing?' &lt;/span&gt;and&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153);"&gt; 'what medicine did the doctor give you for your headache? the white capsuley one?'&lt;/span&gt; and &lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);"&gt;'no appetite huhuhu T.T'&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And since i've recovered i haven't been myself. I don't want to drink tea or eat muffins it's like as if my soul got murdered by the antibiotics cos this is so not Esther T.T&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The other day i went to school without any breakfast and i didn't care when usually i'm all, &lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153);"&gt;'wth skip breakfast! late also don't care must have caffiene and muffin!' &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So from here onwards i'm on a journey to find myself cos evidently i lost it somewhere between the fever and coughing like an old man. We girlies watched Angus, Thongs and Perfect Snogging last night and i liked it &lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 153, 153);"&gt;(eventhough i fell asleep halfway)&lt;/span&gt; but i do-not-recommend it if you can't stand seeing an ugly lead around gorgeous guys.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To illustrate how badly the casting director picked the lead - the part when the girl kissed the super gahgahgah &lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 153, 153);"&gt;(lol Karven)&lt;/span&gt; hot guy she was after came, we all screamed in pain, &lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153);"&gt;'YOU DON'T DESERVE HIM!'&lt;/span&gt;/&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153);"&gt;'AAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHH!'&lt;/span&gt;/&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153);"&gt;'NOOOOO!!'&lt;/span&gt;/&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153);"&gt;'AAAAAAAAAHHHHH!'&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 153, 153);"&gt;*picks up stool and throws at TV screen*&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yea. We no likey the nose-flaring girl&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 153, 153);"&gt; (she flares her nose at everything! get a grip of your nose lah haijoh)&lt;/span&gt;. Okay i'm gonna go try looking for the movie cos i missed the end. Wish me luck Karven and Jun-Elle said she gets the hot guy in the end &lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 153, 153);"&gt;(the horror!)&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Bubyee. =)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8725547191180223081-444920515219117122?l=idontbelieveinhomework.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://idontbelieveinhomework.blogspot.com/feeds/444920515219117122/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8725547191180223081&amp;postID=444920515219117122' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8725547191180223081/posts/default/444920515219117122'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8725547191180223081/posts/default/444920515219117122'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://idontbelieveinhomework.blogspot.com/2008/09/one-with-alienated-week.html' title='The One With The Alienated Week'/><author><name>estherrr.</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_LgI256BCd-w/SO6VKtbVAJI/AAAAAAAAABg/CpOxttWmX9k/S220/five.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8725547191180223081.post-5777186414568605449</id><published>2008-08-22T21:43:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-25T07:49:24.596-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The One Where I'm Pretending To Study (Again)</title><content type='html'>So i woke up this morning. Okay more like noon. Then of course plugged my best friend in and as he was getting up &lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 153, 153);"&gt;(he's a he cos he's all black and silver)&lt;/span&gt; i waddled off to get fuel &lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 153, 153);"&gt;(tea)&lt;/span&gt; and came back and started crawling round cyberspace when i stumbled upon &lt;a style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153);" href="http://www.criticsrant.com/bb/reading_level.aspx"&gt;this&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.criticsrant.com/bb/reading_level.aspx"&gt;&lt;img style="border: medium none ;" src="http://www.criticsrant.com/bb/readinglevel/img/postgrad.jpg" alt="blog readability test" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;small&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.criticsrant.com/"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/small&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Basically you type in your blog URL and they check to see your blog readability - &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;'what level of education is required to understand your blog'&lt;/span&gt;. So i was pretty proud of meself when i got the above. Then i was like, hey why not check other people's blog readability? So naturally i picked the most dense person i  &lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 153, 153);"&gt;(and probably Karven)&lt;/span&gt; know and the result was -&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153);"&gt;*drum roll!*&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;'Genius'&lt;/span&gt;. Wait - don't rejoice thinking it means the blogger is a genius. It's more like cos the blogger hardly ever makes sense so it takes a genius to decipher what on earth it's trying to say. Alot of the URLs i typed in required just elementary school level so yea that means it's easily understandable. &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;It&lt;/span&gt; however..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Okay now back to infecting meself with the nerd bug.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8725547191180223081-5777186414568605449?l=idontbelieveinhomework.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://idontbelieveinhomework.blogspot.com/feeds/5777186414568605449/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8725547191180223081&amp;postID=5777186414568605449' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8725547191180223081/posts/default/5777186414568605449'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8725547191180223081/posts/default/5777186414568605449'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://idontbelieveinhomework.blogspot.com/2008/08/one-where-im-pretending-to-study-again.html' title='The One Where I&apos;m Pretending To Study (Again)'/><author><name>estherrr.</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_LgI256BCd-w/SO6VKtbVAJI/AAAAAAAAABg/CpOxttWmX9k/S220/five.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8725547191180223081.post-7028498913705267250</id><published>2008-08-19T11:19:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-19T11:27:25.252-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The One With Pretty Overload</title><content type='html'>To &lt;s&gt;those&lt;/s&gt; girls who haven't tried Polyvore yet - go try it!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153);font-size:130%;" &gt;&lt;a style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153); font-weight: bold;" href="http://www.polyvore.com/"&gt;www.polyvore.com&lt;/a&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/8725547191180223081-7028498913705267250?l=idontbelieveinhomework.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://idontbelieveinhomework.blogspot.com/feeds/7028498913705267250/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8725547191180223081&amp;postID=7028498913705267250' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8725547191180223081/posts/default/7028498913705267250'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8725547191180223081/posts/default/7028498913705267250'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://idontbelieveinhomework.blogspot.com/2008/08/one-with-pretty-overload.html' title='The One With Pretty Overload'/><author><name>estherrr.</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_LgI256BCd-w/SO6VKtbVAJI/AAAAAAAAABg/CpOxttWmX9k/S220/five.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
