<?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-994172068053362441</id><updated>2012-02-16T20:01:23.022-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Little bits of everyday life.</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://deleeberation.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/994172068053362441/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://deleeberation.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Jane Lee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08653824763072559284</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_sHA8xZKaibk/Sz3Y1KghOnI/AAAAAAAAAcI/9g-O4I4y91s/S220/ID.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>24</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-994172068053362441.post-3844157920455133031</id><published>2010-04-04T08:11:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-04-04T08:40:05.446-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Life is unexpected.</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;At any moment, you could die of cancer. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;At any moment, a family member could just drop dead.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;At any moment, you could get rammed by a car.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;At any moment, a natural disaster could happen, and many lives would be lost.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Life is short - the average life expectancy of a human is &lt;i&gt;probably&lt;/i&gt; just 60-80 years old.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;We should learn to treasure it. Live it to the fullest, as corny as it sounds.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;We might not have the picture perfect family life. We might not have what those actors have in movies. We might not come from wealthy families. But even though, life is just..&lt;i&gt; life.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;We weren't placed in this world for a reason. It just &lt;i&gt;somehow&lt;/i&gt; happened. Humans started evolving, dinosaurs died. Who knows, in the future we might be living on the moon.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;People have different views on why we live.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Do we live because life is for enjoying?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Do we live to be happy?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Do we live to love?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Do we live to work, to become rich businessmen?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Do we live to die?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I believe in all of them. Not just the above, but whatever everyone says.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;But do you ever realize, that all of this somehow leads to money.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Just imagine the world with no money, when the world wasn't so selfish.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Isn't that a hard thing to imagine?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;When all races could just unite. World peace.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;We'd all have a wonderful life. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;A world without money would probably be like a communist planet. You could work if you felt like it, and the lazy people wouldn't give a shit. Money drives us all.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;But too bad; the world doesn't work that way.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;b&gt;We live life to enjoy&lt;/b&gt;. Now, to enjoy, to go on a holiday to the Bahamas or Bali, you need a plane ticket. You need a hotel accommodation. That needs money.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;b&gt;We live life to be happy&lt;/b&gt;. Happy is just a simple small pleasure. Go to a Jimmy Choo or Manolo Blahnik store and buy a pair of shoes. Buy that new PSP game that just came out, and you're the first one to ever have it. A piece of Godiva chocolate truffle that just melts in your mouth. But not all of them can make you happy; saving a little lost bird gives you a little pride and happiness too. But, still; mostly it needs money.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;b&gt;We live life for lust&lt;/b&gt;. Yeah, pretty much leads to prostitution. But some people do believe in true love and all that stuff you watch on soap operas. I'm not saying that love is a bad thing, but just part of it relates to money. Cheating husband who's a big CEO; screwing his assistant. Lust.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;We live life to&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt; work&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;. Study &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;→ work → businessman  → money&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;We live to die&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;. No matter what we do, we all die in the end anyway.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;In the end&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;, I'm just talking about bullshit that comes up to my mind.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;So just live life to the fullest and stop thinking about all of this.&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/994172068053362441-3844157920455133031?l=deleeberation.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://deleeberation.blogspot.com/feeds/3844157920455133031/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://deleeberation.blogspot.com/2010/04/life-is-unexpected.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/994172068053362441/posts/default/3844157920455133031'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/994172068053362441/posts/default/3844157920455133031'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://deleeberation.blogspot.com/2010/04/life-is-unexpected.html' title='Life is unexpected.'/><author><name>Jane Lee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08653824763072559284</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_sHA8xZKaibk/Sz3Y1KghOnI/AAAAAAAAAcI/9g-O4I4y91s/S220/ID.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-994172068053362441.post-8181835121182903885</id><published>2010-03-02T02:33:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-03-02T03:41:37.449-08:00</updated><title type='text'>10 things to do when you're bored</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;Always bored? &lt;i&gt;Yeah, me too&lt;/i&gt;.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;Going on the internet can get boring after a while, won't it?&lt;div&gt;You go on the basic stuff - Facebook, Twitter, Hotmail.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;After that, then.. what?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;You stare at Facebook for a few moments. You start playing games that you do daily everyday too; Farmville, Pet Society, Restaurant City.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Then.. you get bored because you realize, you do this every day.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;When you get bored &lt;i&gt;again&lt;/i&gt;, you look at Facebook, but you're not getting any notifications.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;What you can do when you're extremely bored (and when you want to waste time) is..&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;b&gt;1) Watch TV&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;No brainer. Lol.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;b&gt;2) &lt;/b&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/"&gt;YouTube&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;No brainer #2&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;b&gt;3) Go on Wikipedia&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;.. and find for one thing. Then click whatever relates to it when you're done or when you don't know what that word means. Really, it's time consuming, and you actually &lt;i&gt;learn&lt;/i&gt; stuff.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;b&gt;4) &lt;/b&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.vigilantcitizen.com/"&gt;www.vigilantcitizen.com&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;This guy's articles makes your mind blow.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;At least it made mine, anyway. It'll make you go.. '&lt;i&gt;Who knew&lt;/i&gt;?'&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;b&gt;5) &lt;/b&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.moillusions.com/"&gt;www.moillusions.com&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Mess up your mind &lt;i&gt;even more&lt;/i&gt; with optical illusions! There's so many pages of illusions, and pretty good commentary on it. I usually give up on the illusions and find for the answers in the comments lolfail.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;b&gt;6) &lt;/b&gt;&lt;a href="http://fmylife.com/"&gt;&lt;b&gt;FML&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;b&gt;, &lt;/b&gt;&lt;a href="http://itmademyday.com/"&gt;&lt;b&gt;IMMD&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;b&gt;, &lt;/b&gt;&lt;a href="http://mylifeisaverage.com"&gt;&lt;b&gt;MLIA&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;b&gt; and the rest&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;When you need a laugh.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;b&gt;7) &lt;a href="http://failblog.org"&gt;Failblog&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Fail pictures and videos, oh my!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;b&gt;8) &lt;a href="http://onemanga.com/"&gt;onemanga&lt;/a&gt;/some other manga website/some anime streaming website&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;omgz animez!11oneone&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Who doesn't like too-perfect characters (eg. hot guys and cute girls) that &lt;i&gt;don't exist&lt;/i&gt;?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I'm not trying to promote media piracy, but everyone's probably done it once in their life, unless if you don't own a computer.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;b&gt;9) Exercise&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Not my favorite thing to do. I barely even exercise myself, but when I do I go HARDCORE.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Then I eat a lot. &lt;i&gt;Fail&lt;/i&gt;.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;b&gt;10) Go out and breathe some fresh air&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Yes. Radioactive shit is probably messing up your brain already.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;i&gt;In conclusion: boredom sucks.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/994172068053362441-8181835121182903885?l=deleeberation.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://deleeberation.blogspot.com/feeds/8181835121182903885/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://deleeberation.blogspot.com/2010/03/10-things-to-do-when-youre-bored.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/994172068053362441/posts/default/8181835121182903885'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/994172068053362441/posts/default/8181835121182903885'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://deleeberation.blogspot.com/2010/03/10-things-to-do-when-youre-bored.html' title='10 things to do when you&apos;re bored'/><author><name>Jane Lee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08653824763072559284</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_sHA8xZKaibk/Sz3Y1KghOnI/AAAAAAAAAcI/9g-O4I4y91s/S220/ID.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-994172068053362441.post-6587366278593659526</id><published>2010-02-25T04:06:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-02-25T04:47:37.619-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Symbolism</title><content type='html'>There are many definitions for symbolism, but the one I'm gonna talk about is symbolism in arts.&lt;br /&gt;You can read more about symbolism in art on &lt;a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Symbolism_(arts)"&gt;Wiki&lt;/a&gt;, of course, but that ruins the point of reading this blog post, no?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This blog post was inspired by art class today.&lt;br /&gt;Of course, there are many types of symbolism; religious symbolism, political symbolism etc (haha took this out of Wiki 'cause I wanna act smart)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I find symbolism kinda creepy. Like, in some paintings - or in this case many paintings - there are pictures of skulls and death, and random objects like crows and eagles have some deep meaning into it.&lt;br /&gt;I am clearly fascinated by this, yet extremely creeped out when I research stuff like this, or if someone tells me about it (as of Mr. Sathi, who is our art teacher).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What we learned today was symbolism in old paintings. Of course, nobody paints Jesus or some rich dude or some goddess anymore to sell for millions (unless if it's painted in gold or something) since we have a marvelous device called a camera. But, in the olden days, paintings were cool and if you were a painter you could be filthy rich or something. Symbolism still exists now though, in modern forms. Not paintings, but if I were to give an example... I would say maybe Lady Gaga's songs.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lady Gaga's cool now, and so are her songs, but did you notice that her music videos are random? Random music videos &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;usually&lt;/span&gt; have some meaning to it. In Lady Gaga's case, Bad Romance.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've read this &lt;a href="http://vigilantcitizen.com/?p=2737"&gt;article&lt;/a&gt;, which is very popular now since it ranks first when you Google 'Lady Gaga Bad Romance meaning'. You can laugh at me for typing that in Google, but hey. I was curious and bored. I can't go on Facebook all day, I need my read-weird-articles moment. Everyone should read it, I think it's super cool and creepy at the same time. Oh, Lady Gaga. How she amazes me. And creeps me out at the same time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;One painting that we saw today was.. I forgot what it was called and by who, but I'll tell you what I can recall, since Google isn't exactly cooperating with me.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;It was a picture of two men, French-looking (you know those funky olden Shakespeare-ish clothes with poofy pants) with intelligent-looking objects in a shelf in between them. I forgot what objects there was on the shelf, but I think it's something to show how smart they are. And at the bottom, there's this surfboard-looking thing. Apparently, if you look at the painting from one side with your head smooshed on the wall, you can see a skull. So if you look at the painting from the front and you know that it's a skull, it looks like a very skewered skull.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Mr. Sathi says something about Memento Mori, and I'm all &lt;b&gt;OH HAY&lt;/b&gt;! It's Flyleaf's new album! OMG &lt;i&gt;awesome&lt;/i&gt;! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;... but it's actually about death and how we all are still mortals and we die anyway no matter how rich/poor you are.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;How depressing. I liked the idea of Flyleaf's new album. But Flyleaf's songs are creepy in a way too, but okay whatever dfdsdfsdfsdg.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Skull represents death. That's shit scary you know. You're thinking, hey it's an innocent painting with two smart-looking men looking smart with smart things, and hey what's that? Is that a snowboard? A surfboard maybe? &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;And when someone tells you it's a skull, &lt;i&gt;your mind is blown&lt;/i&gt;.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Here's an example:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_sHA8xZKaibk/S4ZvVgdXIbI/AAAAAAAAAfI/4RQUxTwqvxs/s1600-h/mindblown.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 131px; height: 200px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_sHA8xZKaibk/S4ZvVgdXIbI/AAAAAAAAAfI/4RQUxTwqvxs/s200/mindblown.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5442159615004844466" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;First glance: O hay it's just a woman looking into a mirror/vanity that's nice.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Second glance: HOLY FUCKSHIT IT'S A &lt;i&gt;SKULL&lt;/i&gt;. Mind blown.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;And if you look closely.. That woman is staring &lt;b&gt;into your soul&lt;/b&gt;.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;In other words... symbolism is&lt;i&gt; creepy&lt;/i&gt;. Especially if they're about death and doodads.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/994172068053362441-6587366278593659526?l=deleeberation.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://deleeberation.blogspot.com/feeds/6587366278593659526/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://deleeberation.blogspot.com/2010/02/symbolism.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/994172068053362441/posts/default/6587366278593659526'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/994172068053362441/posts/default/6587366278593659526'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://deleeberation.blogspot.com/2010/02/symbolism.html' title='Symbolism'/><author><name>Jane Lee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08653824763072559284</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_sHA8xZKaibk/Sz3Y1KghOnI/AAAAAAAAAcI/9g-O4I4y91s/S220/ID.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_sHA8xZKaibk/S4ZvVgdXIbI/AAAAAAAAAfI/4RQUxTwqvxs/s72-c/mindblown.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-994172068053362441.post-1730318350496313844</id><published>2010-02-13T00:03:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2010-02-13T00:07:02.305-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Hey, listen!</title><content type='html'>To people who still are reading this almost-dying blog, I have a &lt;b&gt;Tumblr&lt;/b&gt; now! Wooo!&lt;div&gt;It's probably nicer to read, since there's pictures there. It's a daily-blog-ish blog, so I kinda microblog my daily stuff. This blog &lt;i&gt;will&lt;/i&gt; still be updated (not as much), but this is for serious stuff like world peace or something. Obviously, this will be the boring, srs tiem blog, while Tumblr would be more casual + pictures. Okay? &lt;i&gt;Okay&lt;/i&gt;.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"&gt;&lt;a href="www.janethelee.tumblr.com"&gt;www.janethelee.tumblr.com&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/994172068053362441-1730318350496313844?l=deleeberation.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://deleeberation.blogspot.com/feeds/1730318350496313844/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://deleeberation.blogspot.com/2010/02/hey-listen.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/994172068053362441/posts/default/1730318350496313844'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/994172068053362441/posts/default/1730318350496313844'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://deleeberation.blogspot.com/2010/02/hey-listen.html' title='Hey, listen!'/><author><name>Jane Lee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08653824763072559284</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_sHA8xZKaibk/Sz3Y1KghOnI/AAAAAAAAAcI/9g-O4I4y91s/S220/ID.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-994172068053362441.post-250613509794814897</id><published>2010-02-09T03:17:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-02-09T05:05:00.031-08:00</updated><title type='text'>90210</title><content type='html'>Is now &lt;strike&gt;officially&lt;/strike&gt; kinda officially act-like-a-bimbo-and-strut-down-a-corridor day!&lt;div&gt;Geddit? &lt;b&gt;9/02/10&lt;/b&gt;? Beverly Hills &lt;strike&gt;Chihuahua&lt;/strike&gt; &lt;i&gt;90210&lt;/i&gt;!?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;If you don't geddit you got something wrong somewhere.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;i&gt;Speaking of bimbos..&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Here are 3 bimbos that want to be on this post. *gets beaten up*&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Also, pictures have at least something covering their faces because I don't want them to get stalked by pedophiles. See I'm such a caring friend! *hairflip*&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 191px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_sHA8xZKaibk/S3FJaLzEElI/AAAAAAAAAdo/Kb9mktR19Mc/s200/sabrina_delee.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5436206939405292114" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;b&gt;First up, Bimbo number 1, &lt;/b&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.blogger.com/www.totally-overrated.blogspot.com"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Sabrina&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;b&gt; aka &lt;/b&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;b&gt;SNN&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;b&gt;.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;This girl, my nerdpal, is also my hyper buddy. We laugh like nerds, and start giggling like mad, and share some retarded inside jokes. Really. Sometimes (actually most of the time) she laughs until her stomach hurts. Must go check with the doctor already!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;We're weird. But that makes us awesome. *wink*&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 129px; height: 200px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_sHA8xZKaibk/S3FJacP5c2I/AAAAAAAAAdw/JI5p-MkGqRI/s200/sheryl_delee.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5436206943821198178" /&gt;'&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;b&gt;Bimbo number 2; &lt;/b&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.blogger.com/www.brokenstrings-sheryl.blogspot.com"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Sheryl&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;b&gt; aka &lt;/b&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;b&gt;Mien/Noodles&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;b&gt;.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Goes hyper when given the chance. Also a girly girl! But an awesome one.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;She's madly in love (she's not lesbian lah she has a boyfriend but she's a #1 fansi) with Taylor Swift. Also my Photography buddy for events, and we belong in a group called I So Oh-some! Ok lame lah but it's funnier in real life I swear.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_sHA8xZKaibk/S3FJamXsEOI/AAAAAAAAAd4/fsUSuIW9KtU/s200/vivian_delee.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5436206946538229986" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;b&gt;Finally, bimbo number 3, &lt;/b&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.blogger.com/www.theuntoldstory-viviantan.blogspot.com"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Vivian&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;b&gt; aka &lt;i&gt;Dong&lt;/i&gt;.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;HAHAHA I know it's mean to call her Dong. But she calls me a Dong too, so it's all fair. *winkwink*&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;My good crazy friend for like, I dunno, 7-8 years already. One year doesn't count because at that moment I was a no-life and didn't like to make friends. We went to KDU together, Tenby, then she's going to move to where I live; but then she's going to a different school, so that ends our follow-here-follow-there moment. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Besides bimbo day, &lt;b&gt;Valentine's Day and Chinese New Year&lt;/b&gt; is coming up!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;There's gonna be a week's holiday for CNY, and heck, I'm excited. I'm also going to gain a few pounds/kgs, due to the massive amounts of food my dad is going to cook. So it wouldn't be surprising if I became a pig over the holidays. Oink.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Oh, shit, then that means I'd probably be roasted and chopped up and become a huge piece of &lt;i&gt;siew yok&lt;/i&gt; (roasted pork). 3 layers of fat, probably, and I'll give everyone colon cancer! I am so wonderful wtf.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Chinese New Year also falls on Valentine's Day. Ironic, because this is the year of the Tiger, and yanno, Tiger Woods? I don't think he'll be celebrating because he's in sex rehab. Poor ol' Tiger. His wife would probably send him a sex doll out of pity, but then he probably can't make use of it because his junk is constrained.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Wait, &lt;i&gt;what the fuck&lt;/i&gt; am I talking about?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;UHHHH omg I'm spazzing fsdfsdf&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;BACK TO THE TOPIC NOW.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Valentine's Day, same old. Probably going to stay at home and celebrate CNY, and eat junk food and chocolates. Or go collect angpows from rich aunties and uncles. Retrieve money from angpows = buy chocolates. Damn sad lah, but okay nevermind my cat, Louie, is my Valentine. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;But I have to entertain him. Probably have to &lt;i&gt;sayang&lt;/i&gt; him until he walks away, like he always does.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;FML.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Here is the picture of him (taken in 2008. He is so much fatter now wtf)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_sHA8xZKaibk/S3FdTmk3PCI/AAAAAAAAAeA/RLIxwSZ36C4/s1600-h/003.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 134px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_sHA8xZKaibk/S3FdTmk3PCI/AAAAAAAAAeA/RLIxwSZ36C4/s200/003.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5436228816566959138" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Ok lah very lan si looking I know.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;And I cannot feed him chocolate. He will probably die. Oh wait, that's dogs. Um, ok bimbo mode.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;In other news,&lt;i&gt; I actually drove a car&lt;/i&gt;, and learned how to reverse. With the supervision of my dad, of course! Me, Jane Lee, 14 and a half years old, driving a Myvi. Halfway through a Malay kampung. I was giggling the whole way because I was so hyper and nervous, wtf lol. I also didn't hit any poles/trees/people. I feel accomplished. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;*accomplished*&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Although the car is in Auto mode. Cheating one.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;i&gt;Credits to Sabrina, Sheryl, Soung Xin, and Vivian for inspiration for this blog post. Thanks, ladies!&lt;/i&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/994172068053362441-250613509794814897?l=deleeberation.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://deleeberation.blogspot.com/feeds/250613509794814897/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://deleeberation.blogspot.com/2010/02/90210.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/994172068053362441/posts/default/250613509794814897'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/994172068053362441/posts/default/250613509794814897'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://deleeberation.blogspot.com/2010/02/90210.html' title='90210'/><author><name>Jane Lee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08653824763072559284</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_sHA8xZKaibk/Sz3Y1KghOnI/AAAAAAAAAcI/9g-O4I4y91s/S220/ID.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_sHA8xZKaibk/S3FJaLzEElI/AAAAAAAAAdo/Kb9mktR19Mc/s72-c/sabrina_delee.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-994172068053362441.post-6122671805584225942</id><published>2010-02-01T06:11:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-02-01T06:27:10.995-08:00</updated><title type='text'>So, here I am.</title><content type='html'>Watching the Grammy's, blogging, thinking of what to type.&lt;div&gt;So, don't get your hopes up; I &lt;i&gt;didn't&lt;/i&gt; get the student council position. I'm not complaining either, I'm just glad I tried. *grins like a 'tard*&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Chinese New Year is coming up. Angpows are being packed, decorations are being put up.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I'm not buddhist though, or any other religion, I'm a freethinker-slash-atheist. Well, they're technically both the same, but okay lah whatever. I don't really believe in anything; if I die, I'll just die. Just see where I'll go. Or maybe.. reincarnate. *dooooom*&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;My mom is a supposed buddhist, while my dad's a supposed catholic.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;But both of them ended up being atheists. My dad's baptized, but he never really bothered to church. My brother.. he's catholic too, I guess. I think he's baptized. LOL DON'T ASK ME IDK. But I dunno him lah, he doesn't really mention church anymore.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;My mom.. well, I'm not so sure about her religious background, but she just tells me that she's an atheist.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;My dad did go to church for the first few decades of his life, but after that.. I guess he just didn't bother anymore.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Just like me. Only I wasn't baptized though.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I tried going to Sunday School/church when I was 10 years old. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Still antisocial, so uh, never made any friends, got lazy, discontinued church.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I know it wasn't a good thing to quit Sunday School, yanno - something to believe in, but I just.. didn't bother. So much fail amirite.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;And now, my mom is trying to become a catholic. Guess she just wants something to believe in now.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Heck, she even bought a small Mother Mary statuette to put at our house. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;To be honest, I think she's going a little &lt;i&gt;bonkers&lt;/i&gt; on the head; but I'm kinda proud of her too, wanting to just believe in something, because she really needs something to look up to.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;In this case, Mother Mary. Surprisingly, my mom became a better person bit by bit.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;She's becoming holy. Holy mom. &lt;i&gt;Holy mama&lt;/i&gt;.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I don't know about my dad. He's still.. my dad. Nothing changed. Or &lt;i&gt;maybe&lt;/i&gt; his temper did become better after that statuette was placed..&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;But we still celebrate Chinese New Year.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;We're such a religiously rojak family wtf.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/994172068053362441-6122671805584225942?l=deleeberation.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://deleeberation.blogspot.com/feeds/6122671805584225942/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://deleeberation.blogspot.com/2010/02/so-here-i-am.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/994172068053362441/posts/default/6122671805584225942'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/994172068053362441/posts/default/6122671805584225942'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://deleeberation.blogspot.com/2010/02/so-here-i-am.html' title='So, here I am.'/><author><name>Jane Lee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08653824763072559284</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_sHA8xZKaibk/Sz3Y1KghOnI/AAAAAAAAAcI/9g-O4I4y91s/S220/ID.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-994172068053362441.post-574837268042092449</id><published>2010-01-26T00:31:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-01-26T01:51:36.060-08:00</updated><title type='text'>2010 is pretty productive so far</title><content type='html'>Many things had happened. And yeah, I'm really happy.&lt;br /&gt;No, I did not get a boyfriend (FML) but eh &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;more things&lt;/span&gt; had happened.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;First thing's first, I joined the Student Council. If you're wondering what's a Student Council, it's like a group of students in different year groups to help improve the school or host/create events.&lt;br /&gt;So whoever wanted to join had to write &lt;i&gt;and&lt;/i&gt; read a speech; why you want to be a councillor, what would you do to help/contribute to the school, etc etc.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Initially there were only 2 students in my year group who joined. After a wonderful speech made by our deputy principle a day before the elections, a total of 18 students quickly wrote their speeches overnight (including me of course). I think our deputy principle has some kind of magic way of making people feel like shit. So the next day, all of the candidates were freaking out. &lt;div&gt;Since assembly was the last period, we candidates were all rehearsing and panicking.&lt;br /&gt;In the end, we all got our speeches in front of the Y9's, and heck my legs were shaking. I know I'm a major loser lah ok. But at least I had the guts to actually go up. *grin*&lt;br /&gt;After 18 speeches were done, all students were required to vote for 4 people, by ballots. So it's anonymous. But everyone kept going WHO YOU VOTING FOR WHO YOU VOTING FOR VOTE FOR ME PLZPLZPLZ YOU VOTE FOR ME I VOTE FOR YOU K.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Results are coming out &lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;tomorrow&lt;/span&gt;, so hey fingers crossed! Even if I might not win, hey it was a thrill (lol nerd talk) and at least I've tried.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've been busy with schoolwork - surprising for someone like me. I remember the good times where I'd get caned by my mother because I lied about not doing my homework. I swear, I would bawl my eyes out, then never ever want to come out of my room. I couldn't lock my room up as in my old house the lock was broken so no privacy. &lt;i&gt;Anyone&lt;/i&gt; could just barge in and see things they don't want to see eg. me sleeping while my drool forms a pool on the ground.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Uh. &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;Why am I talking about locks&lt;/span&gt;? And me drooling on the ground WTS.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Baaaack to the topic nao.&lt;br /&gt;Other than school, I went to meet my old friend, Amanda.&lt;br /&gt;She had been one of my good friends since Primary 2, and yeah we used to 'stick' together (tee-hee inside joke).&lt;br /&gt;She went to Australia 2 years ago, and yeah we decided to meet up and hey! We had a pretty retarded time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I remember the time where we went bowling and my ball rolled backwards. Extremely retarded can.&lt;br /&gt;More memories, but it's reserved for our minds only! Ya know more inside jokes (tee-hee wtf lol)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Also, I learned how to do some basic makeup at Shu Uemura in 1 Utama.&lt;br /&gt;Mom got me a basic makeup set, and the lady taught me (also done the makeup on me + fake eyelashes fml fake eyelashes feel like they're gonna come out fts fts).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My mom wants me to girl up; and yeah wants me to learn makeup so I can hide my horrible future crow's feet and wrinkles.&lt;br /&gt;I know 14 (going on 15) is a little late age for girling up, since I should've been drawing makeup on my face when I was 8, but that never happened. I was pretty much a man when I was little.&lt;br /&gt;A very fat little kid man HAHAH NICOLE &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;KID MAN&lt;/span&gt; OMG I'M SO FUNNY not really.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;UHHHHH OKAY. I'm getting hyper/lame/retarded.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Um, to sum this post up; pretty much I've been more &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;active&lt;/span&gt; in school.&lt;br /&gt;I'm.. having a life; even if I keep using the computer everyday loh &lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;fail&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/994172068053362441-574837268042092449?l=deleeberation.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://deleeberation.blogspot.com/feeds/574837268042092449/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://deleeberation.blogspot.com/2010/01/2010-is-pretty-productive-so-far.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/994172068053362441/posts/default/574837268042092449'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/994172068053362441/posts/default/574837268042092449'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://deleeberation.blogspot.com/2010/01/2010-is-pretty-productive-so-far.html' title='2010 is pretty productive so far'/><author><name>Jane Lee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08653824763072559284</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_sHA8xZKaibk/Sz3Y1KghOnI/AAAAAAAAAcI/9g-O4I4y91s/S220/ID.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-994172068053362441.post-8999775354767994071</id><published>2010-01-15T03:43:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-01-15T04:42:01.823-08:00</updated><title type='text'>What's going on with my life</title><content type='html'>Answer: &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;Nothing much&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pretty much everyday I've been on Facebook, Twitter, Plurk, and a few other random shit I read.&lt;br /&gt;I'm getting just plain bored, to be honest; but I can't help but to actually check the few sites everyday. Even if my social life sucks, even if I barely go out, even if I barely even get notifications on Facebook. But I &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;just can't help it&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Like everyone else who usually goes on the internet, I've been trapped into the vortex. Yeah well, to make it simple, I'm &lt;b&gt;addicted&lt;/b&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;This has lead me to my bad blinking habit. I've tried to 'stop' going on the computer for many many many times. Going on holidays did help, but only for a week or so - but you would &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;probably&lt;/span&gt; find me screaming at my iPhone, searching for free WiFi so I can check my Facebook notifications.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;Going on holidays helped me cure my blinking only for a certain amount of time, but after that I get addicted to the computer again and my bad blinking habit comes back FML/FTS. The worse thing is, I'm beginning to bring my laptop along with me to my holidays. That's entirely my fault and it was my choice, but yeah, yaddayadda I can't help it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The computer, or rather the internet, has amazed me. You could spend what you feel like is 10 minutes on the computer, watching videos on YouTube or reading blogs and articles, and &lt;i&gt;voila&lt;/i&gt;! 3 hours have passed, with you watching random stuff that includes obsession of spoons or some guy getting whacked at the balls multiple times whatsoever. &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;My mom always told (or rather nagged) me about getting out of the computer to do some sports; mix some people, exercise (bleh) - but it just isn't the same as last time anymore.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;When my mom was a kid, she lived in a kampung. Sekinchan in Kuala Selangor, to be exact. She said she used to play basketball and had many friends. She also has 5 sisters and 2 brothers. They would play virtually &lt;i&gt;everything&lt;/i&gt; with anything they can find; sticks, stones, guli (marbles), bags of sand whatever. They just had so much to do.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;i&gt;But that was then&lt;/i&gt;. They did not have any computers, nor technology as advanced as it is now.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;If they did have computers, I bet my mom would be tricked by some online predator and I would be an orphan.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Really (but not really).&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;This generation had changed so much. Computers came out, laptops came out. Game consoles were the 'it' thing to have, and yes; I'm proud, or actually rather ashamed, to have fallen into the trap.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I nagged my mom to buy me the latest game consoles. If I never got it, I would probably just watch the other 'cool' people playing and just sulk to myself. I do have game consoles; the Nintendo Wii and DS, but now it's all DSis and PS3s and XBox 360s. But I'm kinda happy with what I have now, considering I barely play game consoles because I usually give up on RPG games that they always release. Fail, I know. I give up easily.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;b&gt;So I rely to the internet.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;And so does my mom now, since she's just started using the computer. So far, she's been addicted to it. Instead of watching TV with my dad, she would be in a room, clicking away at her email or Facebook or some designer label website. I think my dad's getting annoyed as he's being left out; and since everyone is abandoning him for the internet.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Lololol @ dad.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;But the internet has been many help to me, and probably to everyone else; I chatted with my old friends, reminiscing about those memories we all had. I'm even going to meet one of my old friends who moved to Australia 2 years ago (woah that's a long time), Amanda. We're gonna meet up and talk about the good times again. Definitely excited for that event! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;The internet has also been great help to my mom, who now still types extremely slow; but that's not the point. She misses my brother terribly, so she frequently video calls him when he's free. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Okay, back to the topic (which is going hanky-panky right now because my mind is spacing out and I don't know what to blog about so I'm simply just gonna type)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;(wtf &lt;i&gt;hanky-panky&lt;/i&gt;?)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;So basically, my daily routine;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Wake up, brush teeth etc, eat breakfast, go to school, come back from school, eat my early 'dinner', go on the computer for a while, shower, watch TV while using the computer, eat some fruits or get some juice, sleep. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;It's always like that &lt;i&gt;everyday&lt;/i&gt;, and it's just my routine I guess.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Unless if there's something to do, like drum classes or vocal class, then it's pretty much sandwiched into the routine.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;So moral of the story: Get a life, like I'm &lt;i&gt;trying&lt;/i&gt; to right now.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/994172068053362441-8999775354767994071?l=deleeberation.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://deleeberation.blogspot.com/feeds/8999775354767994071/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://deleeberation.blogspot.com/2010/01/whats-going-on-with-my-life.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/994172068053362441/posts/default/8999775354767994071'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/994172068053362441/posts/default/8999775354767994071'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://deleeberation.blogspot.com/2010/01/whats-going-on-with-my-life.html' title='What&apos;s going on with my life'/><author><name>Jane Lee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08653824763072559284</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_sHA8xZKaibk/Sz3Y1KghOnI/AAAAAAAAAcI/9g-O4I4y91s/S220/ID.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-994172068053362441.post-7194166539717527660</id><published>2010-01-07T03:24:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2010-01-07T04:07:18.907-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Schools</title><content type='html'>'Kay, so some of you know that I've been in 3 schools (excluding kindergarten) in my life so far.&lt;br /&gt;One had been &lt;b&gt;SJK(C) Yuk Chai&lt;/b&gt;, which is a government school, &lt;b&gt;Sekolah Sri KDU&lt;/b&gt;, the private school, then now &lt;b&gt;Tenby International School&lt;/b&gt;, the international school.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;This post is about what my experiences are. And I feel like an old lady telling her grandchild a story. *facepalm*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The government school, Yuk Chai; well, I've only been there for one year. That's why my mandarin is so horribly crap and my parents pretty much say I'm a disgrace to the Chinese. But when I was in Standard 1, my english was crap too. I wasn't pretty much of a study person (I still am now), and I barely had any friends. So, I was pretty much the lousiest and antisocial student any parent wouldn't really bother about. I did have some friends, but they usually went into cliques and their own little groups. I'd usually find myself sitting alone, in the canteen, eating curry noodles. And also getting curry soup all over my face and pinafore. FML. I only joined a few friends sometimes, then I'd feel so left out because they were going on with their own stuff and talking about secret stuff. Which obviously I don't know about. So yes, I was a super antisocial poor-english poor-chinese girl.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yes, I pity myself. &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;You should pity my childhood too.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I was moved to KDU after a year of antisocial-ness, KDU was still a brand-new shiny school. I dared myself to make new friends, and well; that worked, because everyone was new and never wanted to leave their parents. So in came the 'Hi, my name is Jane!' and 'What's your name?' typical child language and curiosity. So, I made so much more new friends, and I was happy. There were a bunch of us; pretty much joined at the hip and went wherever who went. Childhood games, such as 'catching' or 'Fire and Ice'. Good times, eh. We even had this game which was something like 'Animals' or something like that. I remember vaguely being the 'owner' of all the other 'animals', which were the other students. I guess I've always liked being the &lt;strike&gt;main bitch&lt;/strike&gt; leader. So anyway, I had dogs, cats, horses, turtles, and any other animal you could imagine of. Seriously. I used to hold on to my friends' ID tags and treated them like leashes. We'd all go up and down the huge ramps in KDU, outside the library. All the other friends even had their animal calls ready, WTS hahaha.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strike&gt;Now that I mentioned it, I sound like some kind of bondage mistress who has a weird fetish for animals WTF.&lt;/strike&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This was also the stage where there were 'cooties' and 'booties' (WTF booties). Cooties came from girls, while booties came from boys. Seriously, what were we thinking about. We'd pass the 'virus' all around, so it was a game of catch.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was a student at Sri KDU for 6 whole years. I've met new people, made new friends, had some 'I-don't-friend-you' fights, and all that. I still do miss my friends, but yeah; we've gotta move on sometimes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;Even if they probably don't miss me for my arrogance&lt;/i&gt;. Fail, Jane. Fail.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After 6 years of being in KDU, I guess I just got tired. I was pretty much in a mess; my marks were going down under, and my social life was going down. I just thought, '&lt;i&gt;Hey, if I moved into a new school, I'd have more new people to meet, new friends, a new start&lt;/i&gt;.' &lt;div&gt;Yes, I do realize it sounds super cliché, like out of a High School Musical movie, but it's true. I did meet a load of new people. I remember the first day being lost, being left out etc; but after that, it's all fine. I'm still a little antisocial now; I barely talk to people when they don't talk to me, unless if it's important/if it's an awkward moment. Also, I remembered having a hard time trying to understand the angmoh teachers' accents. I kept saying 'Sorry?' 'Excuse me?' 'Huh?'. Not really a good first impression. Also, you'd have to address teachers by 'Miss', 'Sir', 'Madam', etc. You don't go 'OI TEACHER'. Yeah, I got scolded for it once. Never attempted to do it again.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I've so far enjoyed my time at Tenby. There's always so much activity; not just sitting your ass down in class the whole day and cramming for exams. It's more carefree, and it makes me exercise HAHAHAHA not funny but it's true. According to dad, '&lt;i&gt;Going to school is much better than you sitting your butt down on the computer 24/7&lt;/i&gt;.' &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Yeah, thanks dad. You support me &lt;b&gt;oh-so-much&lt;/b&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyhow, I'd prefer international schools than others all the way. The fees are pretty outrageous sometimes, but hey; it's an international school. You learn a different syllabus; you walk around the school like a campus, and people are just more awesome there. I would say more, but hey. This post is like the most boringest ass post in the whole world. It's a block of text.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;In conclusion, so far I like Tenby best. If you say that it's biased, well, you'd have to face it. It &lt;i&gt;is&lt;/i&gt; a pretty good school. Aside from all the drama.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/994172068053362441-7194166539717527660?l=deleeberation.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://deleeberation.blogspot.com/feeds/7194166539717527660/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://deleeberation.blogspot.com/2010/01/schools.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/994172068053362441/posts/default/7194166539717527660'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/994172068053362441/posts/default/7194166539717527660'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://deleeberation.blogspot.com/2010/01/schools.html' title='Schools'/><author><name>Jane Lee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08653824763072559284</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_sHA8xZKaibk/Sz3Y1KghOnI/AAAAAAAAAcI/9g-O4I4y91s/S220/ID.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-994172068053362441.post-4999587823608322187</id><published>2009-12-31T00:56:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-12-31T01:18:31.544-08:00</updated><title type='text'>New Year's Resolutions</title><content type='html'>Since it's New Year's Eve today, why not create a post? Yeah, good idea, Jane! And you can do what everyone else is doing/probably going to do/will do - a New Year's Resolution(s) post!&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;What are my NYR (yes I abbreviated it so I don't have to type the whole damn thing)?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;First and foremost..&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;i&gt;LOSE (even more) WEIGHT!&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;This has been my NYR since forever, I'm telling you.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I am making progress. I'm not as stubby as last time, although I am still kinda stubby.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Still, making progress! That's a good thing!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;b&gt;Get a life&lt;/b&gt;.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Still working on it. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Wait, this has been my NYR too since forever. FM(nonexistent)L.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;b&gt;Actually study, not put the book in front of me then the laptop in front of the book.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Yes, unfortunately, this has happened to me a little too many times.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Not really a good thing. I'd flip a few pages then go on Facebook to play Restaurant City or someshit. I have Checkpoint exams to take! FML even more!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Well, I guess that's&lt;i&gt; pretty much&lt;/i&gt; it.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I have shitty NYRs. It's almost always the same each year.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;b&gt;To my (also nonexistent) readers (who probably aren't going to comment), what are your New Year's Resolutions?&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/994172068053362441-4999587823608322187?l=deleeberation.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://deleeberation.blogspot.com/feeds/4999587823608322187/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://deleeberation.blogspot.com/2009/12/new-years-resolutions.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/994172068053362441/posts/default/4999587823608322187'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/994172068053362441/posts/default/4999587823608322187'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://deleeberation.blogspot.com/2009/12/new-years-resolutions.html' title='New Year&apos;s Resolutions'/><author><name>Jane Lee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08653824763072559284</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_sHA8xZKaibk/Sz3Y1KghOnI/AAAAAAAAAcI/9g-O4I4y91s/S220/ID.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-994172068053362441.post-1766462345596124288</id><published>2009-12-27T05:37:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-12-27T06:29:58.297-08:00</updated><title type='text'>I always think I'm right.</title><content type='html'>That makes me a shitty person. Really.&lt;br /&gt;I've been born with my dad's genes - a person who loves to fight until they get the prize.&lt;br /&gt;Not as in physically of course, but verbally.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I always get into arguments with my dad, and neither of us will give up until one of us exclaim '&lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;Whatever lah!&lt;/span&gt;'&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Then the other would go '&lt;i&gt;See? Whatever again! That means I'm right&lt;/i&gt;&lt;i&gt;!&lt;/i&gt;'&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Etc etc, argument starts again.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I always like to be the leader, even if I'm usually the lazy type. I like to direct people to their jobs, instead of them lingering around like blank-faced retards. If you're gonna work in a group, do your job. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I feel extremely annoyed if someone says I'm wrong, because my arrogance usually makes me think that I'm always right.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;This is no good, especially if you put me in groups; because different minds have different opinions. Well, my mind doesn't usually go with the group - it's usually something more extraordinary rather than plain and simple. Unless if I'm too lazy to do the work, which would probably end up like some unicorn crapped rainbows on it.&lt;i&gt; Eg. Math projects&lt;/i&gt;. Good projects usually end up me doing everything, my vision. Even if people try to help, I'd have to keep a close eye because I don't want them to spoil the whole soup. I try not to do that as much as I can, but my mind just doesn't respond. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;i&gt;Yes, I'm that arrogant, thank you very much.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Also, sorry to the people who have done projects with me, lololol.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Thinking yourself as a person who is always right is not that much of a good thing, because you get super perasan (show-off) and you piss people off. Yep, I piss people off a load of times, especially my dad.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Anyhow, I'm still trying to find a way to stop this 'I-think-I'm-always-right' problem. *facepalm*&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Other than my 'I.T.I.A.R.' problem, I always think I'm better than everyone else.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I know that people are way better than me, yet my mind tricks me into saying, 'Oh hey, pfft. I can do better than that.'&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I really need to do something about myself. *facepalm again*&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/994172068053362441-1766462345596124288?l=deleeberation.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://deleeberation.blogspot.com/feeds/1766462345596124288/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://deleeberation.blogspot.com/2009/12/i-always-think-im-right.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/994172068053362441/posts/default/1766462345596124288'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/994172068053362441/posts/default/1766462345596124288'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://deleeberation.blogspot.com/2009/12/i-always-think-im-right.html' title='I always think I&apos;m right.'/><author><name>Jane Lee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08653824763072559284</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_sHA8xZKaibk/Sz3Y1KghOnI/AAAAAAAAAcI/9g-O4I4y91s/S220/ID.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-994172068053362441.post-4769878842768680398</id><published>2009-12-25T02:47:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2009-12-25T02:53:00.927-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Christmas</title><content type='html'>I told my mom I wanted to borrow her credit card for Christmas to buy something online, since I got nothing for Christmas from anyone.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Guess what she got me?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 419px; height: 295px;" src="http://i29.photobucket.com/albums/c281/KoshiyaX/creditwtf.png?t=1261738025" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Yeah. Merry Christmas to you too, mom.&lt;/div&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/994172068053362441-4769878842768680398?l=deleeberation.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://deleeberation.blogspot.com/feeds/4769878842768680398/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://deleeberation.blogspot.com/2009/12/christmas.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/994172068053362441/posts/default/4769878842768680398'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/994172068053362441/posts/default/4769878842768680398'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://deleeberation.blogspot.com/2009/12/christmas.html' title='Christmas'/><author><name>Jane Lee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08653824763072559284</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_sHA8xZKaibk/Sz3Y1KghOnI/AAAAAAAAAcI/9g-O4I4y91s/S220/ID.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-994172068053362441.post-7798598294766624195</id><published>2009-12-24T20:48:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-12-24T21:22:29.485-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Looking at yourself</title><content type='html'>&lt;i&gt;Don't you ever wonder why your friends gossip about you?&lt;br /&gt;Your mom insults you all the time?&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, you have to look at yourself.&lt;br /&gt;Looking at yourself helps a lot. Not in the physical way eg. a mirror, but mentally.&lt;br /&gt;Are you a type of person who is kind? Loving? Friendly?&lt;br /&gt;You might think of those qualities for yourself, but other people definitely don't think so.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Self-understanding is a good way to improve yourself, so you can remind yourself what to do and what not to do.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think of myself as a person who&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;a) likes to show off.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;My philosophy? Whatever you buy, surely must show off one mah.&lt;br /&gt;If not buy for what?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;b&gt;b) gives advice, but fails to follow it myself.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Yeah. I love to give advice, cheer people up; but if I face the same problem, I'd just break down and cry. Yeah. Life sucks.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;b&gt;c) gives up easily.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Yeah, like the 'awesome' posts of my trips that I was going to make.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;b&gt;d) gets angry easily.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;But that's kinda common right? RIGHT? RIGHT?! FFFFUUUU-&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;b&gt;e) forgets easily.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;So if you have me as a friend and promise something/tell me a secret, I will probably forget it so ehhh sorry.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;b&gt;f) is shy. Very shy.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I never liked going out to socialize. I would rather stay at home etc (like my previous post go read it wtf)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;b&gt;g) can get ticked off when you insult my friends, family or even myself.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I will punch your face if you do insult my friends or family, kthx.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;There's more about myself to write here, but I don't want to be overly perasan (show-off) and post my good qualities here. It's Christmas, damnit. I should be frolicking in the nonexistent snow the doesn't exist in my country, and opening my nonexistent presents from my existing parents who probably don't really bother about Christmas because they don't really celebrate Christmas and they're asian.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;*gasp*&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Anyway, my point is, when people see the bad things about you, there's always a chance to change yourself and your bad points. You could help yourself by writing down your bad points (doesn't work if you're too show-off because you think you're perfect) and thinking through, but who has the time for that?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Just use your brain to think what's right and what's wrong for yourself and everyone else.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;That's what your brain is for. To think.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Also I think my posts are getting shorter and shorter.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;But um, okay.. &lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#FF0000;"&gt;Merry Christmas, everyone; and have a happy new year!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&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/994172068053362441-7798598294766624195?l=deleeberation.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://deleeberation.blogspot.com/feeds/7798598294766624195/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://deleeberation.blogspot.com/2009/12/looking-at-yourself.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/994172068053362441/posts/default/7798598294766624195'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/994172068053362441/posts/default/7798598294766624195'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://deleeberation.blogspot.com/2009/12/looking-at-yourself.html' title='Looking at yourself'/><author><name>Jane Lee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08653824763072559284</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_sHA8xZKaibk/Sz3Y1KghOnI/AAAAAAAAAcI/9g-O4I4y91s/S220/ID.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-994172068053362441.post-2516614033922143124</id><published>2009-12-21T23:28:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2009-12-21T23:47:55.044-08:00</updated><title type='text'>To be a good/awesome blogger</title><content type='html'>You have to have a lot of good qualities.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That involves:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;1. Being social/sociable.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm not a social person, so I don't think I'm an awesome blogger.&lt;br /&gt;I'd rather stay at home and watch TV/surf the web than go out to party.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think it's just awkward when nobody knows you and you're in a place with tons of people. Me = loner.&lt;br /&gt;I don't talk to people if they don't talk to me. True story.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;2. Good grammar.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Um, I guess my english is fine the way it is. It's easy and understandable.&lt;br /&gt;I don't use complicated words that much.. 'cause my mind dictionary doesn't store too many complicated words. lolfail.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;3. A sense of humor.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What do you call a boomerang that doesn't work?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A stick! *ba-dum psha!*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think I hear crickets.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;4. Everyday adventures.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My life isn't so productive.&lt;br /&gt;I usually just stay at home, eat, sleep, watch TV, muck around.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;5. Post blog entries on time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I give up. This post was just an excuse to keep the blog updated 'cause I'm procrastinating for the London, Paris and Korea posts.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm still 3/10 through the post. FSLDKSMDLKWEWEK&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;I'm sorry. I have failed you all.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/994172068053362441-2516614033922143124?l=deleeberation.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://deleeberation.blogspot.com/feeds/2516614033922143124/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://deleeberation.blogspot.com/2009/12/to-be-goodawesome-blogger.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/994172068053362441/posts/default/2516614033922143124'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/994172068053362441/posts/default/2516614033922143124'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://deleeberation.blogspot.com/2009/12/to-be-goodawesome-blogger.html' title='To be a good/awesome blogger'/><author><name>Jane Lee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08653824763072559284</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_sHA8xZKaibk/Sz3Y1KghOnI/AAAAAAAAAcI/9g-O4I4y91s/S220/ID.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-994172068053362441.post-4894472876634591212</id><published>2009-11-29T03:43:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-11-29T03:57:37.708-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Excited!</title><content type='html'>I will be going to London and Paris in 5 days, and Korea 3 days after!&lt;br /&gt;Oh my god, so excited.&lt;br /&gt;Which means more &lt;strike&gt;rubbing into people's faces&lt;/strike&gt; blogging material, since my blog is quite dead now.&lt;br /&gt;I'll also bring my camera, so there will be pictures to spice this blog up!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I hope I can bring my lappie to the trips, so it saves the "omgwtf where did I go again" moments. Hopefully there's free internet there, or I would just.. type like a lifeless person on Microsoft Word.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, I've been really lifeless today.&lt;br /&gt;I've been watching YouTube videos (like Britain's Got Talent etc) and reading manga (Otomen to be exact). LOLFAIL. When I could be blogging some awesome shit. LOLFAILEVENMORE.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Also. Last week of school until the Christmas holidays.&lt;br /&gt;I can't wait. I'm can't contain this excitement and dsfdfsdfsgdfgdfgf.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/994172068053362441-4894472876634591212?l=deleeberation.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://deleeberation.blogspot.com/feeds/4894472876634591212/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://deleeberation.blogspot.com/2009/11/excited.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/994172068053362441/posts/default/4894472876634591212'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/994172068053362441/posts/default/4894472876634591212'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://deleeberation.blogspot.com/2009/11/excited.html' title='Excited!'/><author><name>Jane Lee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08653824763072559284</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_sHA8xZKaibk/Sz3Y1KghOnI/AAAAAAAAAcI/9g-O4I4y91s/S220/ID.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-994172068053362441.post-6005813754575356820</id><published>2009-11-22T03:56:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-11-22T05:51:46.732-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Singapore</title><content type='html'>Just came back from Singapore a few hours ago. And I would say that Singapore is awesome in the shopping department. The food was average, but expensive; because of the currency. Pffft.&lt;br /&gt;I enjoyed shopping there so much. I stayed in Singapore Marriott in Orchard Road, and my dad even booked a junior suite. &lt;i&gt;Syiok&lt;/i&gt;. I had to sleep in a extra bed though. Still, so awesome.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;We flew to Singapore via Firefly; online booked. By my mom. So surprising, but I helped her so that's not as surprising anymore.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The reason we (mom, dad, me) went to Singapore was to shop for winter clothes for the trip to Paris and London. Oho, I can't wait. And 3 days after that, Korea. Also, my dad's friend came along, with his wife and daughter. We were guided around by another of my dad's friend who lives in Singapore.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I didn't bring my camera. Too heavy, meh.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Service in Marriott was so-so. The suite we stayed in was the only one with two queen-sized beds, and was quite spacy. So when we reached Singapore 3 days ago, checked in, and unfortunately the guests haven't checked out yet. My dad released his fury on the staff &lt;i&gt;and&lt;/i&gt; us (meaning my mom and I). Couldn't really blame him though; the room was pretty exclusive, and the guest was supposed to check out latest by 2pm. But we waited (aka shopped) until 5pm, but they were still cleaning up. So the staff just gave us a temporary room to dump our stuff.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;While waiting for the room to be finished - around 2pm-5pm - we shopped around at Ion. Ion has quite a load of stuff, and there was Uniqlo there! I love Uniqlo, homigosh. I regretted not visiting the really huge one in Isetan, in Tokyo. But ended up shopping in the airport, but that was like almost a year ago, so um. Nevermind.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyways, the Uniqlo there was quite big. I love Uniqlo's clothes because they're simple and stylish! And, of course, comfortable. I bought quite a load of stuff there, and it was just the first day. So my mom said, 'I guess we bought what we already need...' But of course, nothing is enough. *wink*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_sHA8xZKaibk/SwkxyAU4FnI/AAAAAAAAAZk/M6JIRI1ebSg/s1600/DSC_0043.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 134px; height: 200px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_sHA8xZKaibk/SwkxyAU4FnI/AAAAAAAAAZk/M6JIRI1ebSg/s200/DSC_0043.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5406907562785773170" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;What you can see here are things from Uniqlo.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Black cap-hat-thing-IDK, dark skinny jeans, checkered long shirt, graphic long shirt/dress.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;What you can't see because of my lousy photography skills are another pair of gray skinny jeans, and some lala-looking knee socks (which my mom bought for me).&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For dinner, we ate some SGD20 or SGD25 chicken rice in Mandarin Oriental. It was good, but too expensive! That's like 60 ringgit for a soup, rice, chicken, with three different sauces; black sauce, chili (I don't know what it's called), ginger. But I'd have to admit, the chicken was delicious. So tender and juicy, nomnomnom.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The next day, ate breakfast at some executive breakfast thing in the hotel. The food choices were so little. My dad's friend went downstairs to the tea there, there was a bigger variety. So we decided to eat there the next day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After eating breakfast, we went shopping. Which is the whole point of this trip. So we went to Takashimaya, which is also another shopping complex. Zara, Forever 21, Cotton On, Topshop etc etc. Paradise! There were many department stores too, like Isetan etc.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I also love Cotton On. They recently opened a store in Malaysia - the shop is a little like the other younger generation brands, like Forever 21. And I'm super happy because I wear M size now instead of L/XL. So I was super glad. And did I mention super duper happy?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_sHA8xZKaibk/Swk2nYXmiuI/AAAAAAAAAZs/Fh_OFpoBUPA/s1600/DSC_0048.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 134px; height: 200px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_sHA8xZKaibk/Swk2nYXmiuI/AAAAAAAAAZs/Fh_OFpoBUPA/s200/DSC_0048.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5406912877819235042" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What you can see here is;&lt;br /&gt;Sequined black tank top, Union Jack shirt, 'parlez vous francais' shirt&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I love the shirts in Cotton On. Especially the long ones.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_sHA8xZKaibk/Swk3o761ZvI/AAAAAAAAAZ0/6C8OUsO1oew/s1600/DSC_0051.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 134px; height: 200px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_sHA8xZKaibk/Swk3o761ZvI/AAAAAAAAAZ0/6C8OUsO1oew/s200/DSC_0051.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5406914004053747442" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then I went off to buy some Ray Bans. I've been wanting these for quite a while!&lt;br /&gt;Also, you see the iPhone there? The adorable cover?&lt;br /&gt;It's this..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_sHA8xZKaibk/Swk4UvZJwjI/AAAAAAAAAaE/pKFRl17plsg/s1600/DSC_0053.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 134px; height: 200px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_sHA8xZKaibk/Swk4UvZJwjI/AAAAAAAAAaE/pKFRl17plsg/s200/DSC_0053.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5406914756605493810" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_sHA8xZKaibk/Swk4UN1ud4I/AAAAAAAAAZ8/BB_TBsD10aA/s1600/DSC_0052.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 134px; height: 200px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_sHA8xZKaibk/Swk4UN1ud4I/AAAAAAAAAZ8/BB_TBsD10aA/s200/DSC_0052.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5406914747598534530" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's like a man hugging the iPhone. It's called 'iHug', by Trexta; and I bought this in Tangs. You can find it in official Apple product selling places, but it's SGD10 cheaper in Tangs. And Tangs is just beside Marriott. Which is my hotel. So it's just so convenient like that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_sHA8xZKaibk/Swk5ayGHh8I/AAAAAAAAAaM/ZbIwTtUd8N0/s1600/DSC_0050.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 134px; height: 200px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_sHA8xZKaibk/Swk5ayGHh8I/AAAAAAAAAaM/ZbIwTtUd8N0/s200/DSC_0050.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5406915959921805250" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Bought this too at Tangs; Union Jack laptop sleeve by Pat Says Now. I think the thoughts of going to London is getting to my head.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tried Mos Burger. We don't have any Mos Burger in Malaysia, so I decided to drag everyone to try.&lt;br /&gt;We ordered like 6 burgers, one for each person. It was average; the special one was the yakiniku rice burger, which is like pieces of beef sandwiched between two rice patties. There was another seafood one also, not bad too. But I think the best one was the normal Mos beef burger. Delish.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I forgot, but we went to a really big shopping mall/convention centre, and just nice it was some cosplaying festival thing. I wanted to go kaypoh for a while, but we were all leaving already. I saw some people dressed up as goth lolitas, Naruto, some bleeding dude, Star Troopers (wtf), and more. Gah!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Had chinese food for dinner, was pretty expensive. I forgot what it was called.. thanks to my awesome memory. *cough*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There was a end-of-sale promotion in Etude House on the way back, and they were giving away free masks, so why not?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_sHA8xZKaibk/Swk8AI0vQYI/AAAAAAAAAaU/Th6oMN9XocA/s1600/DSC_0040.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 134px; height: 200px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_sHA8xZKaibk/Swk8AI0vQYI/AAAAAAAAAaU/Th6oMN9XocA/s200/DSC_0040.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5406918800701342082" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_sHA8xZKaibk/Swk8AI0vQYI/AAAAAAAAAaU/Th6oMN9XocA/s1600/DSC_0040.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Natural jelly cleansing puff (wtf is that IDK my mom told me to use it), black head remover, sunblock, eyeliner (finally, my own), and a cute free facial cloth wrapped like a muffin.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;There was actually two of the cute muffin facial cloth thing, but my mom took the pink one.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Ah well. Also, they gave free masks too. And I got a free membership card, which is useless in Malaysia. But it looks so adorable. So pretty, tiny and pink.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;The next day, ate at the lobby breakfast area as promised; was alright. Like any other breakfast you get in hotels. There was about 4 hours until we went back to Malaysia, so we.. shopped. Nothing much today, because we wouldn't want to walk too far in case we miss the plane.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_sHA8xZKaibk/Swk_n90d4AI/AAAAAAAAAac/xO5DO_e_ueA/s1600/DSC_0049.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 134px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_sHA8xZKaibk/Swk_n90d4AI/AAAAAAAAAac/xO5DO_e_ueA/s200/DSC_0049.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5406922783477063682" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;So I got this skirt.. which are like bloomers inside. Quite puffy. I'm probably going to wear it to Europe with knee socks &lt;i&gt;so I can look like a lala and nobody will care because nobody from Malaysia can see me with my lalaness so I won't be embarrassed.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;But not really (&lt;i&gt;but maybe&lt;/i&gt;).&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I need to make up my mind.&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, that's all for today - I'm tired, and I still have to go back to school tomorrow.&lt;br /&gt;2 more weeks until the holidays; and expects a ton more pictures from &lt;b&gt;Paris and London&lt;/b&gt;!&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Note: short (no heeled) boots are hard to find in Singapore. *sadface*&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/994172068053362441-6005813754575356820?l=deleeberation.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://deleeberation.blogspot.com/feeds/6005813754575356820/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://deleeberation.blogspot.com/2009/11/singapore.html#comment-form' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/994172068053362441/posts/default/6005813754575356820'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/994172068053362441/posts/default/6005813754575356820'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://deleeberation.blogspot.com/2009/11/singapore.html' title='Singapore'/><author><name>Jane Lee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08653824763072559284</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_sHA8xZKaibk/Sz3Y1KghOnI/AAAAAAAAAcI/9g-O4I4y91s/S220/ID.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_sHA8xZKaibk/SwkxyAU4FnI/AAAAAAAAAZk/M6JIRI1ebSg/s72-c/DSC_0043.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-994172068053362441.post-5195178178889858626</id><published>2009-11-13T03:13:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-11-13T03:26:31.948-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Chocolates</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://i29.photobucket.com/albums/c281/KoshiyaX/chocoooo-D.jpg?t=1258110821"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 448px;" src="http://i29.photobucket.com/albums/c281/KoshiyaX/chocoooo-D.jpg?t=1258110821" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For my aunt's wedding.&lt;br /&gt;Guess who drew the adorable bride &amp;amp; groom, imprinted on the chocolates?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me lah, of course. DUH WHO ELSE COULD IT BE. *cough*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The art was also included on her wedding invitations. And I keep staring at the chocolates, because I can't believe that something of mine (but not really, because it's for my aunt's wedding but whatever okay) had been imprinted. On chocolate! Both milk and dark chocolate.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have yet to eat them. But I don't want to.. because.. I can't take on how awesome it feels.&lt;br /&gt;My aunt gave me two extra chocolates, because I won't be going to her wedding on December. I'm going on a holiday instead, wts. *sadface*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I want to eat the chocolates so bad right now, but&lt;br /&gt;i. I'm on a diet.&lt;br /&gt;ii. It's too precious to eat.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Someone help me.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/994172068053362441-5195178178889858626?l=deleeberation.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://deleeberation.blogspot.com/feeds/5195178178889858626/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://deleeberation.blogspot.com/2009/11/chocolates.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/994172068053362441/posts/default/5195178178889858626'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/994172068053362441/posts/default/5195178178889858626'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://deleeberation.blogspot.com/2009/11/chocolates.html' title='Chocolates'/><author><name>Jane Lee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08653824763072559284</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_sHA8xZKaibk/Sz3Y1KghOnI/AAAAAAAAAcI/9g-O4I4y91s/S220/ID.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-994172068053362441.post-7439864652601159291</id><published>2009-11-08T01:40:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-11-08T02:02:45.360-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Memories</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos-h.ak.fbcdn.net/hphotos-ak-snc3/hs061.snc3/12854_1280517653636_1250881891_857543_2290803_n.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 270px; height: 200px;" src="http://photos-h.ak.fbcdn.net/hphotos-ak-snc3/hs061.snc3/12854_1280517653636_1250881891_857543_2290803_n.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;Credits to Philene.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've recently been tagged on a picture on Facebook taken around, oh I don't know. 4-5 years ago?&lt;br /&gt;And well, memories kept flooding in. Gosh, looking at myself 4-5 years ago makes me laugh like an idiot; horrible hair + red cheeks + fat. Plus I had horrible teeth that time. I look like Santa Claus (with horrible teeth) omg.&lt;br /&gt;Guess which one am I? Clue: Fat girl, pink striped shirt, oily face, standing up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've never seen anyone tagged on the picture in ages, literally. Seeing everyone grown up just makes me feel overwhelmed and kinda shocked. It seemed like just 2 days ago I've seen them; all giggly, chubby children. But oh my goodness, after a few years, they look all mature and stuff.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I sound like a mother who hasn't seen her child for 20 years. &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;*facepalm*&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Some of them went outstation; some of them are still here in Malaysia, but in different schools.&lt;br /&gt;How I miss them. *boo*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sometimes, seeing old pictures just make everyone have this weird bubbly inside of them; making them think "HOMG I REMEMBER THAT TIME" etc etc.&lt;br /&gt;Or maybe that's just me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I look at baby pictures and videos of myself and I'd be all "Why am I so dumb last time wtf."&lt;br /&gt;But that's how life goes right? So, yeah, live and let live. Whatever that means.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/994172068053362441-7439864652601159291?l=deleeberation.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://deleeberation.blogspot.com/feeds/7439864652601159291/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://deleeberation.blogspot.com/2009/11/memories.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/994172068053362441/posts/default/7439864652601159291'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/994172068053362441/posts/default/7439864652601159291'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://deleeberation.blogspot.com/2009/11/memories.html' title='Memories'/><author><name>Jane Lee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08653824763072559284</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_sHA8xZKaibk/Sz3Y1KghOnI/AAAAAAAAAcI/9g-O4I4y91s/S220/ID.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-994172068053362441.post-4992313352835865623</id><published>2009-11-06T20:38:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-11-07T03:28:59.687-08:00</updated><title type='text'>My Top 5 Treat List</title><content type='html'>Even from my childhood years until now, I've always gotten everything I wanted.&lt;br /&gt;Expensive food, expensive toys, expensive everything. If I don't get it, I'll break down and cry my butt off until daddy decides to buy me that item.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In conclusion, I am extremely spoiled.&lt;br /&gt;I have many things that I want as a treat, so I narrowed it down to 5.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, let's start with what I want (omg perasan).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;#5&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://pixip.org/photo/wp-content/uploads/2009/05/nikon_dx_nikkor_105mm_fisheye_lens_enl.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 109px;" src="http://pixip.org/photo/wp-content/uploads/2009/05/nikon_dx_nikkor_105mm_fisheye_lens_enl.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've been wanting this baby, the fisheye lens, for my Nikon D60 for a very long time.&lt;br /&gt;Who doesn't want to take awesome pictures?&lt;br /&gt;Not &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;just &lt;/span&gt;awesome, but&lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt; super awesome professional looking but actually you're just using the lens&lt;/span&gt; pictures?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is what you can get for taking pictures with the lens.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://fc03.deviantart.com/fs15/f/2007/097/0/b/ferdz_yo_by_iamshutterhappy.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 200px;" src="http://fc03.deviantart.com/fs15/f/2007/097/0/b/ferdz_yo_by_iamshutterhappy.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Credits to &lt;a href="http://iamshutterhappy.deviantart.com/"&gt;iamshutterhappy&lt;/a&gt; @ deviantArt&lt;br /&gt;This is the cheating one lah, 'cause this is lomography. But you can get the same effect with the fisheye lens + Photoshop.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;#4&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.newminiforless.com/images/mini_cooper_convertible_ln.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 108px;" src="http://www.newminiforless.com/images/mini_cooper_convertible_ln.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I would love to have a car - a Mini Cooper convertible to be exact, in pink!&lt;br /&gt;But wait.. this is mustard yellow! So how you want it in pink, Jane? You got issues ah?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Of course, I whip out my Photoshopping skills, and voila!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_sHA8xZKaibk/SvUBP0-ldUI/AAAAAAAAAZU/3PLt9klEjDg/s1600-h/pinkmini.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 108px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_sHA8xZKaibk/SvUBP0-ldUI/AAAAAAAAAZU/3PLt9klEjDg/s200/pinkmini.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5401224699531588930" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sexy! But my dad says that owning a convertible is not suitable for Malaysia's weather, will be very dusty and I am allergic to dust. Dust + Jane = sneezing, sniffing, half-dying person.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;#3&lt;br /&gt;Help world hunger.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;(I don't want to post a picture, seeing pictures on Google is hard enough.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Getting millions of dollars is really hard, but if I do get a million dollars, I would help world hunger.&lt;br /&gt;Seeing as I am always constantly hungry, I feel like crap whenever I think about people being extremely hungry.&lt;br /&gt;But you'll probably see me spending my millions of dollars on luxuries. But I can try to help, right?&lt;br /&gt;I'll also get fatter. So fat = makes me feel bad = give $ to the hungry = win.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;#2&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.mywii.com.au/img/game/Guitar-Hero-World-Tour-8.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 140px; height: 220px;" src="http://www.mywii.com.au/img/game/Guitar-Hero-World-Tour-8.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;+&lt;/span&gt; &lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.ps3vault.com/wp-content/uploads/2008/09/gh2box.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 225px; height: 104px;" src="http://www.ps3vault.com/wp-content/uploads/2008/09/gh2box.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've also been wanting Guitar Hero: World Tour/Band Hero for the Wii (plus all the instruments), for quite a long time.&lt;br /&gt;Usually, game consoles + accessories bore me after a while; it's like a fling only lah.&lt;br /&gt;But I love music, I love playing music, even though my skills are quite &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;cacat&lt;/span&gt;-ed, but nevermind! Guitar Hero is a different experience&lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt; amirite&lt;/span&gt;?&lt;br /&gt;Plus now I can trick people into coming into my house if I'm a pedophile, I'll be all OHAI WANNA PLAY GUITAR HERO?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But I'm not a pedophile, and not old enough to be, and don't want to be, so forget what I said okay.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;#1&lt;br /&gt;But most of all, I want..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.laptops-drivers.com/wp-content/uploads/2009/07/dell_inspiron-13-wallpaper.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 215px; height: 150px;" src="http://www.laptops-drivers.com/wp-content/uploads/2009/07/dell_inspiron-13-wallpaper.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This beauty.&lt;br /&gt;The Dell Inspiron 13 laptop.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why?&lt;br /&gt;The colors. Basic, beautiful glossy colors; pink, red, black, white,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.krunker.com/wp-content/uploads/2009/05/dell-mini-10v-netbook-colors.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 324px; height: 193px;" src="http://www.krunker.com/wp-content/uploads/2009/05/dell-mini-10v-netbook-colors.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Gosh, wouldn't you love one of those? If you don't, you're a stupid dum-dum okay.&lt;br /&gt;Oho! Beautiful, sexy, sleek, cute - whatever you describe it, it all adds up to &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;awesome&lt;/span&gt;. Plain, effin' awesome.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After reading a few blog entries for Nuffnang's contest for the Dell Inspiron 13, I was like 'OMGWTF" and immediately blogged about it. Know more about it &lt;a href="http://www.nuffnang.com.my/dellinspiron13/"&gt;here&lt;/a&gt;!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I also realized that most bloggers (the ladies lah of course) want the pink and red one. But me leh?&lt;br /&gt;I want the green one.&lt;br /&gt;Not because it matches my nails..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_sHA8xZKaibk/SvUX88GkZtI/AAAAAAAAAZc/2pWWpeSTClU/s1600-h/photo.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 150px; height: 200px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_sHA8xZKaibk/SvUX88GkZtI/AAAAAAAAAZc/2pWWpeSTClU/s200/photo.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5401249663794046674" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Okay lah it doesn't really match my nails, my nails are darker but you know what I mean lah.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But it's because I want to be different.&lt;br /&gt;I also like how Dell made their laptops look so amazing. *swoon*&lt;br /&gt;With rounded edges (no sharp pointy ones that can jab into your eye), it is ze &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;perfect&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Okay, enough about the appearance, 'cause you shouldn't judge a book by its cover (like I always do)!&lt;br /&gt;Because, Dell made some good specs for it.&lt;br /&gt;Plus, it's light and thin (1.8kg), compared to my heavy and fat self (63kg). Okay that doesn't make sense but FML.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The keyboard is also spill-proof, for the messy people like me! I always put tea &amp;amp; Milo near my laptop. And when I knock it down.. you know what happens lah.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You can find the specs &lt;a href="http://www1.ap.dell.com/my/en/home/notebooks/laptop-inspiron-1320/pd.aspx?refid=laptop-inspiron-1320&amp;amp;s=dhs&amp;amp;cs=mydhs1&amp;amp;~oid=my~en~30002~inspnnb_13_s510701my"&gt;here&lt;/a&gt;, and all I know that it's pretty awesome for an adorable laptop like that!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;With a small and light laptop, you can travel anywhere with it; in style!&lt;br /&gt;Entertainment, music, communication, all packed into one.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That's why I want it, duh. *wink*&lt;br /&gt;Don't you?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, if you don't want to waste your time/life typing a blog post just for a &lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;Dell Inspiron 13&lt;/span&gt; (&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;S510701MY&lt;/span&gt;), you can buy it - and get a RM100 cash redemption with it! Double happiness!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The magic code: &lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#FF0000;"&gt;7ZQVQF2RLZRKW3&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;Note that it expires on the 10th of November, and is only available online, or by calling 1800-88-0301.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Want to enter the contest? (but make a lousier post entry I want to win this I have never won anything good before dfsdfmsdfldsf)&lt;br /&gt;More info about this contest @ &lt;a href="http://www.nuffnang.com.my/dellinspiron13/"&gt;Nuffnang&lt;/a&gt;!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/994172068053362441-4992313352835865623?l=deleeberation.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://deleeberation.blogspot.com/feeds/4992313352835865623/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://deleeberation.blogspot.com/2009/11/my-top-5-treat-list.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/994172068053362441/posts/default/4992313352835865623'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/994172068053362441/posts/default/4992313352835865623'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://deleeberation.blogspot.com/2009/11/my-top-5-treat-list.html' title='My Top 5 Treat List'/><author><name>Jane Lee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08653824763072559284</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_sHA8xZKaibk/Sz3Y1KghOnI/AAAAAAAAAcI/9g-O4I4y91s/S220/ID.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_sHA8xZKaibk/SvUBP0-ldUI/AAAAAAAAAZU/3PLt9klEjDg/s72-c/pinkmini.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-994172068053362441.post-3321070680812268725</id><published>2009-11-03T03:25:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-11-03T04:34:11.490-08:00</updated><title type='text'>My ambitions</title><content type='html'>Sorry for the lack of updates! I've been 'busy' with uh.. school. Yeah, school. Yes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strike&gt;More like lazy.&lt;/strike&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I was young, I've always had ambitions. Well, I'm still young, and I still have my ambitions. Many people (especially adults omg) have been asking me, "Jane, what are you going to be when you grow up?" I'd say, "I don't know. I haven't decided yet." And they always end up saying, in shock, "&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;WHAT&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;?! You haven't decided yet? What is wrong with you! You still have 2 years!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"&lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;2 years&lt;/span&gt;?" I thought.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh shit. 2 years.&lt;br /&gt;2 years would pass really fast.&lt;br /&gt;I don't even know whether it's really 2 years left, with this international syllabus, but. &lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;I don't know&lt;/span&gt;. I am so clueless right now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, I've been thinking, hey! Why don't I make it into a blog post? And add &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;pictures&lt;/span&gt;? So my blog gets more interesting?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A random bird pops up in my mind and says, "&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;HELL YEAH YOU SHOULD DO IT!&lt;/span&gt;"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;(please ignore the fugly pictures of my face.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As a child, I had the most cliche and.. I don't know, ambition every child wanted.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_sHA8xZKaibk/SvAbi8_qjtI/AAAAAAAAAYk/aVPqmUp4U94/s1600-h/doctorjane.png"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 148px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_sHA8xZKaibk/SvAbi8_qjtI/AAAAAAAAAYk/aVPqmUp4U94/s200/doctorjane.png" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5399846240519884498" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A &lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;doctor&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How unoriginal right? But I did it because every child did. I never wanted to be the weird one out.&lt;br /&gt;But in reality, I never want to be a doctor. After going to the doctors' and hearing what they say, all those complex terms, I just went "Meh," and forgot about being a doctor.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What next? Well, when I was 10, I wanted to be..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_sHA8xZKaibk/SvAcRaxZYCI/AAAAAAAAAYs/G-LHkL5EK2w/s1600-h/artistjane.png"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_sHA8xZKaibk/SvAcRaxZYCI/AAAAAAAAAYs/G-LHkL5EK2w/s200/artistjane.png" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5399847038787084322" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;An&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt; artist&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I still have mixed feelings about this. Artists have to work hard to make good money, socialize, and if no money die lah.&lt;br /&gt;I'd have to live on cup noodles every day then.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As I grew older..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_sHA8xZKaibk/SvAf9SYSlxI/AAAAAAAAAY8/obYTG7tnjis/s1600-h/hoteljame.png"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_sHA8xZKaibk/SvAf9SYSlxI/AAAAAAAAAY8/obYTG7tnjis/s200/hoteljame.png" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5399851090983425810" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My dad suggested me to go for &lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;hotel management in Switzerland&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;I have no idea how in the world he got such a specific idea. Maybe it's from reading his books or something. I might go burn his books later (but I don't think I can because he has a load of books and I would kill the environment), but nevermind.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I asked him why, and apparently they pay a lot for hotel management. I don't want to fold laundry and all that okay.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At 13 years old (which was last year only),&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_sHA8xZKaibk/SvAgxU0zxiI/AAAAAAAAAZE/sf284vgCvyY/s1600-h/interiorjane.png"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_sHA8xZKaibk/SvAgxU0zxiI/AAAAAAAAAZE/sf284vgCvyY/s200/interiorjane.png" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5399851984993109538" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wanted to be an &lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;interior designer&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;Also suggested by my dad, who said that I had good taste in designing. But that would mean practically memorizing what objects and whatnot.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You see? I even look the part. Holding the IKEA catalogue (which my mom accidentally took back home when we went to IKEA to shop - if you look closely, it says "PLEASE RETURN TO THE CHECK-OUT AS YOU LEAVE." Paiseh.)&lt;br /&gt;I'm wearing my glasses also. Look smarter right!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And now, at 14.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_sHA8xZKaibk/SvAih3siiyI/AAAAAAAAAZM/3g7YsyjDw20/s1600-h/bigassquestion.png"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 173px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_sHA8xZKaibk/SvAih3siiyI/AAAAAAAAAZM/3g7YsyjDw20/s200/bigassquestion.png" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5399853918499015458" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Remains one (not so) bigass question mark.&lt;br /&gt;Why? I don't know.&lt;br /&gt;I have no target right now; I seriously don't know what to do.&lt;br /&gt;I don't want to go down in the wrong lane either.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, I'll just go with whatever I have; time will tell.&lt;br /&gt;I think I'll be a loser when I grow up.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/994172068053362441-3321070680812268725?l=deleeberation.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://deleeberation.blogspot.com/feeds/3321070680812268725/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://deleeberation.blogspot.com/2009/11/my-ambitions.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/994172068053362441/posts/default/3321070680812268725'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/994172068053362441/posts/default/3321070680812268725'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://deleeberation.blogspot.com/2009/11/my-ambitions.html' title='My ambitions'/><author><name>Jane Lee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08653824763072559284</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_sHA8xZKaibk/Sz3Y1KghOnI/AAAAAAAAAcI/9g-O4I4y91s/S220/ID.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_sHA8xZKaibk/SvAbi8_qjtI/AAAAAAAAAYk/aVPqmUp4U94/s72-c/doctorjane.png' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-994172068053362441.post-5663489847039763708</id><published>2009-10-30T21:14:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-30T21:15:23.691-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Happy Halloween, guys!</title><content type='html'>Go enjoy a scary movie or go trick-or-treating.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'll post up something soon; when something pops up into my mind.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/994172068053362441-5663489847039763708?l=deleeberation.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://deleeberation.blogspot.com/feeds/5663489847039763708/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://deleeberation.blogspot.com/2009/10/happy-halloween-guys.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/994172068053362441/posts/default/5663489847039763708'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/994172068053362441/posts/default/5663489847039763708'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://deleeberation.blogspot.com/2009/10/happy-halloween-guys.html' title='Happy Halloween, guys!'/><author><name>Jane Lee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08653824763072559284</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_sHA8xZKaibk/Sz3Y1KghOnI/AAAAAAAAAcI/9g-O4I4y91s/S220/ID.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-994172068053362441.post-809771396514079799</id><published>2009-10-28T06:50:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-28T07:17:12.587-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Today's topic:</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;Studying.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;Since &lt;a href="http://www.sabrinatanhooiyen.blogspot.com/"&gt;Sabrina&lt;/a&gt; asked me to, or more like I asked her to tell me a "serious" topic.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You see, I can never be serious (hence the new-and-improved-wannabe-serious-blog), as you can see from my &lt;a href="http://www.hantumilo.blogspot.com/"&gt;old blog&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Alright, back to the main topic now.&lt;br /&gt;Studying.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Basically, the main point of studying is to get a good job, earn good money, live life to the fullest and die peacefully.&lt;br /&gt;You earn money to spend it. You spend it by going on vacations, spend on luxuries, a piece of chocolate, the dress you've been eyeing on since last week.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Studying hard gets you to a good place in life. You earn a bigass sum of money, and you enjoy.&lt;br /&gt;Many students would groan when they wake up in the morning, thinking, "Urgh, it's another shitty day at school. &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;Why must we go to school anyway?&lt;/span&gt;"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, foolish little children, we go to school to get jobs!&lt;br /&gt;As you see, the world revolves around money. You can't live without money, you can't eat without money (unless if you want to feed on raw grass and trashcans), you won't have shelter without money. And you won't have clothes, so you'd be butt nekkid without money.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Let's start off with you as just a little embryo.&lt;br /&gt;When you're complete, you pop out from your mom's belly.&lt;br /&gt;Everyone showers you with gifts.&lt;br /&gt;As a child, you are pampered. You always throw tantrums when mom says you can't buy that Beanie Baby to add to your already exploding toybox.&lt;br /&gt;You start kindergarten. It's really fun, 'cause you're learning the alphabet and playing games.&lt;br /&gt;Then you go to primary school. Getting boring, because you're learning sentences and calculations.&lt;br /&gt;After primary school, secondary school. You are bombarded with math equations, essays, and homework.&lt;br /&gt;You start to complain.&lt;br /&gt;You start saying, "I don't want to go to school today."&lt;br /&gt;Your mom starts nagging you more, and you get annoyed so easily; and it just makes you want to give up on life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;However, you do all this to get a secured future.&lt;br /&gt;A better life, for you and all of your future family members.&lt;br /&gt;Food for them to eat, a house for them to stay.&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Because that's what your parents did to have what they have now.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Your parents went through what you went through, and they are older and wiser to know what's right and wrong.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In conclusion, studying is important, people.&lt;br /&gt;That's why I'm such a nerd.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/994172068053362441-809771396514079799?l=deleeberation.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://deleeberation.blogspot.com/feeds/809771396514079799/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://deleeberation.blogspot.com/2009/10/todays-topic.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/994172068053362441/posts/default/809771396514079799'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/994172068053362441/posts/default/809771396514079799'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://deleeberation.blogspot.com/2009/10/todays-topic.html' title='Today&apos;s topic:'/><author><name>Jane Lee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08653824763072559284</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_sHA8xZKaibk/Sz3Y1KghOnI/AAAAAAAAAcI/9g-O4I4y91s/S220/ID.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-994172068053362441.post-7914696417218260872</id><published>2009-10-25T06:54:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-25T07:20:57.616-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Did you ever wonder?</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;How can we dream?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;Well, I've always wondered, and that always led me to sleepless nights.&lt;br /&gt;I'd keep questioning myself, "&lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;How in the world can we just get these images in our heads, and feel what we feel in our dreams?&lt;/span&gt;"&lt;br /&gt;And when I keep asking myself more and more questions, and it just leads to the question, "&lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;Where do we go when we die?&lt;/span&gt;"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Gosh, how it just gives me a huge-ass headache when I think of it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Different people have different views on this.&lt;br /&gt;For the dreaming question, some people say that it's your spirit going out of your body, to play.&lt;br /&gt;Some people say it's some scientific stuff, something to do with your brains.. or something like that, I don't know.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thinking about brains just reminds me of dolphins. Why can their brains be half-awake while they're sleeping? Damn unfair alright. If I had a dolphin brain, I would use it to half-study while I half-sleep! Hmph!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On the other hand, the death question.. well. Nobody actually died for a few days and got back alive and running to tell the story.&lt;br /&gt;Okay, fine, people have gone into comas, but it's either they see themselves face-to-face, or blank, nothing, nada.&lt;br /&gt;I've seen a program on E! Entertainment, something like 13 Celebrity Near-Death Experiences.&lt;br /&gt;One particular celebrity (I forgot who, sorry) said that when he/she went into a coma, there was this force pulling away and all that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But that could be either a real thing, or it's a plain old publicity stunt.&lt;br /&gt;You know those celebrities -&lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;lah&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyhow, it all ends up to what a person thinks; we won't know until we really do die.&lt;br /&gt;Short post tonight, because I have to go to bed; school tomorrow.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/994172068053362441-7914696417218260872?l=deleeberation.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://deleeberation.blogspot.com/feeds/7914696417218260872/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://deleeberation.blogspot.com/2009/10/did-you-ever-wonder.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/994172068053362441/posts/default/7914696417218260872'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/994172068053362441/posts/default/7914696417218260872'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://deleeberation.blogspot.com/2009/10/did-you-ever-wonder.html' title='Did you ever wonder?'/><author><name>Jane Lee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08653824763072559284</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_sHA8xZKaibk/Sz3Y1KghOnI/AAAAAAAAAcI/9g-O4I4y91s/S220/ID.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-994172068053362441.post-2581719971382702079</id><published>2009-10-24T23:50:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-25T00:04:46.346-07:00</updated><title type='text'>It's about time.</title><content type='html'>I haven't been blogging for a while, on my old blog; &lt;a href="http://www.hantumilo.blogspot.com/"&gt;hantumilo.blogspot.com&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've decided to start a new blog, because I am never serious in blogging at my old blog; I've just gotten plain tired.&lt;br /&gt;I also never changed the blog URL since 2007, which is when I started blogging. 2007, that's almost 3 years! Anyhow, hantumilo collected around 300 posts. But most of them consist of 4-sentence posts or bitching-about-somebody posts.&lt;br /&gt;How mature I am, yes?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I created this blog, also because I want to start blogging more seriously, like the current situation and all; not about what about what I did today, because God gave me a lousy memory. I think about something I want to write in school, something really big and awesome-sounding in my brain, but by the time I reach home, I excitedly switch on the computer.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then obviously, my mind just goes blank when I try to type what I thought of an hour ago. FML.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Also, this blog is to convey my thoughts; what I think about a situation, what I think about the food, etc. &lt;br /&gt;I put the blog URL as &lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;deleeberation&lt;/span&gt;, because, you know? My name is &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;Jane Lee&lt;/span&gt;? De&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;LEE&lt;/span&gt;beration?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Okay, I know I'm lame, but whatever. It took me a while just to find the right word to use.&lt;br /&gt;To you people who don't know what the word "deliberation" means, go Google it. &lt;a href="http://www.google.com/"&gt;Google&lt;/a&gt;/&lt;a href="http://www.wikipedia.org/"&gt;Wikipedia&lt;/a&gt; does wonders.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/994172068053362441-2581719971382702079?l=deleeberation.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://deleeberation.blogspot.com/feeds/2581719971382702079/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://deleeberation.blogspot.com/2009/10/its-about-time.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/994172068053362441/posts/default/2581719971382702079'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/994172068053362441/posts/default/2581719971382702079'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://deleeberation.blogspot.com/2009/10/its-about-time.html' title='It&apos;s about time.'/><author><name>Jane Lee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08653824763072559284</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_sHA8xZKaibk/Sz3Y1KghOnI/AAAAAAAAAcI/9g-O4I4y91s/S220/ID.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
