<?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-17859163</id><updated>2012-01-22T12:59:43.986+08:00</updated><title type='text'>lowonetin</title><subtitle type='html'>Of all God’s creatures, there is only one that cannot be made slave of the lash. That one is the cat. If man could be crossed with the cat it would improve the man, but it would deteriorate the cat. – Mark Twain</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://neuroticsongs.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17859163/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://neuroticsongs.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><link rel='next' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17859163/posts/default?start-index=101&amp;max-results=100'/><author><name>eve</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>555</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17859163.post-2301503214163484394</id><published>2012-01-22T12:58:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2012-01-22T12:59:43.996+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Lae Michelle plays the most annoying character on Glee, but her voice. Omg her VOICE.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;iframe width="420" height="315" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/eqIM5A_Cd0I" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen=""&gt;&lt;/iframe&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17859163-2301503214163484394?l=neuroticsongs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17859163/posts/default/2301503214163484394'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17859163/posts/default/2301503214163484394'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://neuroticsongs.blogspot.com/2012/01/lae-michelle-plays-most-annoying.html' title=''/><author><name>eve</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://img.youtube.com/vi/eqIM5A_Cd0I/default.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17859163.post-2114737020504636448</id><published>2011-12-15T21:29:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2011-12-15T21:35:11.055+08:00</updated><title type='text'>I am not interested in getting married and having kids.</title><content type='html'>This really isn't so hard to understand is it? I absolutely hate it that because of my strong character that I need to get a husband so that I'll become 'softer', more lady like.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;What in fucking hell.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;If I ever date a guy who actually expects me to tone down and become a 小女人 to him, there is no way I'm marrying the guy.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;It's not like I don't have expectations of the person I date/marry/whatever, but I am certainly not going to force that person to change certain aspects of their personality just to get married.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;People change and mature and sometimes couples do it together. If I do tone down it's because probably/HOPEFULLY I've grown wiser and more mature. And I want to be a 小女人 to my partner because I think, I feel the person deserves to be treated gently and with love by me. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;It's just the idea that every girl needs to meet Mr Right and become the girl behind the successful guy that irks me that much. Any perceived flaw of my personality would not, should not and will not be cured by marrying a guy.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17859163-2114737020504636448?l=neuroticsongs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17859163/posts/default/2114737020504636448'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17859163/posts/default/2114737020504636448'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://neuroticsongs.blogspot.com/2011/12/i-am-not-interested-in-getting-married.html' title='I am not interested in getting married and having kids.'/><author><name>eve</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17859163.post-1154618574746235731</id><published>2011-12-12T01:15:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2011-12-12T01:20:11.341+08:00</updated><title type='text'>4 inches.</title><content type='html'>Today I bought a pair of heels 4 inches high. Madness. Might actually be my steepest heels so far. But they cost only 10 bucks. I'll just wear them on and of in office. Hurhur. My legs look terribly awesome in them though. Should wear them for CNY totally.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;A and WY gave birth over the weekend. I've never seen so many newborns in such a short span of time. They are terribly tiny. With tiny fingernails that freak the hell out of me. Haiyoh, but really very cute. Makes me realize how much some sort of company is sometimes what we all need.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Someone to give a hug. Someone to receive a hug from. Someone just to sit just by you and just, &lt;i&gt;be there&lt;/i&gt;. Someone there to listen when you put on the Captain Obvious hat and comment on things like, shiny spoons and round sweets, floating balloons, blue skies and green trees. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Someone to be boring with?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17859163-1154618574746235731?l=neuroticsongs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17859163/posts/default/1154618574746235731'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17859163/posts/default/1154618574746235731'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://neuroticsongs.blogspot.com/2011/12/4-inches.html' title='4 inches.'/><author><name>eve</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17859163.post-7430951780501609205</id><published>2011-11-17T21:42:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2011-11-17T21:44:55.117+08:00</updated><title type='text'>This is for you.</title><content type='html'>&lt;iframe width="420" height="315" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/uNF2cbW37mo" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen=""&gt;&lt;/iframe&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Maybe one day it will all be over. But some days it just burns so badly, the hurt the tears. &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I can smile because I cry. Nothing is more beautiful than the sun when it rises.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;It sets.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17859163-7430951780501609205?l=neuroticsongs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17859163/posts/default/7430951780501609205'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17859163/posts/default/7430951780501609205'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://neuroticsongs.blogspot.com/2011/11/this-is-for-you.html' title='This is for you.'/><author><name>eve</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://img.youtube.com/vi/uNF2cbW37mo/default.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17859163.post-8459789288929928862</id><published>2011-11-06T19:34:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2011-11-06T19:35:08.659+08:00</updated><title type='text'>The only thing I'm sorry for, is disappointing you.</title><content type='html'>I was never, is not, will never be what you wanted me to be.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17859163-8459789288929928862?l=neuroticsongs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17859163/posts/default/8459789288929928862'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17859163/posts/default/8459789288929928862'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://neuroticsongs.blogspot.com/2011/11/only-thing-im-sorry-for-is.html' title='The only thing I&apos;m sorry for, is disappointing you.'/><author><name>eve</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17859163.post-8717596309007746698</id><published>2011-10-23T16:56:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2011-10-23T16:56:46.606+08:00</updated><title type='text'>It's out there.</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-2aPTmVkYGqE/TqPWvix7LqI/AAAAAAAAGl8/2baBAMkdCp4/s1600/F1010009.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 268px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-2aPTmVkYGqE/TqPWvix7LqI/AAAAAAAAGl8/2baBAMkdCp4/s400/F1010009.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5666608868440616610" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17859163-8717596309007746698?l=neuroticsongs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17859163/posts/default/8717596309007746698'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17859163/posts/default/8717596309007746698'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://neuroticsongs.blogspot.com/2011/10/its-out-there.html' title='It&apos;s out there.'/><author><name>eve</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-2aPTmVkYGqE/TqPWvix7LqI/AAAAAAAAGl8/2baBAMkdCp4/s72-c/F1010009.JPG' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17859163.post-1907349375191907441</id><published>2011-10-22T22:16:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2011-10-22T22:19:20.879+08:00</updated><title type='text'>They say that things just cannot grow. Beneath the winter snow.</title><content type='html'>&lt;iframe width="420" height="315" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/E7B9PrfNkAM" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen=""&gt;&lt;/iframe&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px; background-color: rgb(255, 255, 255); "&gt;&lt;i&gt;This is my winter song.&lt;br /&gt;December never felt so wrong,&lt;br /&gt;Cause youre not where you belong;&lt;br /&gt;Inside my arms.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px; background-color: rgb(255, 255, 255); "&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px; background-color: rgb(255, 255, 255); "&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px; background-color: rgb(255, 255, 255); "&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px; background-color: rgb(255, 255, 255); "&gt;Visited the mother and sister of my deceased officer. I hope I never have to see the kind of heartbreak I saw in the eyes of little old lady again.&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/17859163-1907349375191907441?l=neuroticsongs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17859163/posts/default/1907349375191907441'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17859163/posts/default/1907349375191907441'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://neuroticsongs.blogspot.com/2011/10/they-say-that-things-just-cannot-grow.html' title='They say that things just cannot grow. Beneath the winter snow.'/><author><name>eve</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://img.youtube.com/vi/E7B9PrfNkAM/default.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17859163.post-3260044053709756880</id><published>2011-10-06T21:13:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2011-10-06T21:15:08.532+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Sexual education</title><content type='html'>My mum is NOW asking me about sexual education I received in school and warning me about staying out late with guys.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Now, when I'm 24, one year into my first job. Secondary school was 8 years ago okay.&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;How am I going to tell them about Vietnam trip? :(&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17859163-3260044053709756880?l=neuroticsongs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17859163/posts/default/3260044053709756880'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17859163/posts/default/3260044053709756880'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://neuroticsongs.blogspot.com/2011/10/sexual-education.html' title='Sexual education'/><author><name>eve</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17859163.post-5531029707581896828</id><published>2011-09-21T19:27:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2011-09-21T19:28:46.971+08:00</updated><title type='text'>I hope you're happy.</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;iframe width="560" height="315" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/7NJqUN9TClM" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen=""&gt;&lt;/iframe&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  &gt;There wasn't enough. But, I guess if you're happy.&lt;/span&gt;&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/17859163-5531029707581896828?l=neuroticsongs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17859163/posts/default/5531029707581896828'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17859163/posts/default/5531029707581896828'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://neuroticsongs.blogspot.com/2011/09/i-hope-youre-happy.html' title='I hope you&apos;re happy.'/><author><name>eve</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://img.youtube.com/vi/7NJqUN9TClM/default.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17859163.post-8371597772859723975</id><published>2011-09-18T22:33:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2011-09-18T22:39:00.712+08:00</updated><title type='text'>City of lights, may they light up your life.</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;iframe width="420" height="315" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/uA4KihbsISU" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen=""&gt;&lt;/iframe&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a href="https://lh6.googleusercontent.com/-b1z51a3RUQw/SW9ZMY195-I/AAAAAAAAAoo/pkYQAVp1Vek/s512/IMG_6088.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 384px; height: 512px;" src="https://lh6.googleusercontent.com/-b1z51a3RUQw/SW9ZMY195-I/AAAAAAAAAoo/pkYQAVp1Vek/s512/IMG_6088.JPG" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a href="https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/-A9FQzvLVgWE/SW9ZvkDnbyI/AAAAAAAAAsw/7JCz3w99izQ/s512/IMG_6120.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 384px; height: 512px;" src="https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/-A9FQzvLVgWE/SW9ZvkDnbyI/AAAAAAAAAsw/7JCz3w99izQ/s512/IMG_6120.JPG" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a href="https://lh6.googleusercontent.com/-rIt8Oh252dE/SW9a1B7eVqI/AAAAAAAAA0k/-1Fw7sBpDXs/s512/IMG_6182.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 384px; height: 512px;" src="https://lh6.googleusercontent.com/-rIt8Oh252dE/SW9a1B7eVqI/AAAAAAAAA0k/-1Fw7sBpDXs/s512/IMG_6182.JPG" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a href="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-ic5ihmEvDwA/SW9aQt5d-jI/AAAAAAAAAwc/wpI7i1x1hLU/s512/IMG_6149.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 384px; height: 512px;" src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-ic5ihmEvDwA/SW9aQt5d-jI/AAAAAAAAAwc/wpI7i1x1hLU/s512/IMG_6149.JPG" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a href="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-tRH9dVnK1K8/SW9aYoURgwI/AAAAAAAAAxI/8KX2-gF1SWk/s512/IMG_6154.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 384px; height: 512px;" src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-tRH9dVnK1K8/SW9aYoURgwI/AAAAAAAAAxI/8KX2-gF1SWk/s512/IMG_6154.JPG" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17859163-8371597772859723975?l=neuroticsongs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17859163/posts/default/8371597772859723975'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17859163/posts/default/8371597772859723975'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://neuroticsongs.blogspot.com/2011/09/city-of-lights-may-they-light-up-your.html' title='City of lights, may they light up your life.'/><author><name>eve</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://img.youtube.com/vi/uA4KihbsISU/default.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17859163.post-3721711762271796309</id><published>2011-08-14T03:10:00.004+08:00</published><updated>2011-08-14T03:21:32.148+08:00</updated><title type='text'>at some point in my life, I'd like to be magnificent please.</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;iframe width="560" height="349" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/rYEDA3JcQqw" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen=""&gt;&lt;/iframe&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;Heard this song in like 4 or 5 of the shops I entered at 313 today. HMV was pretty much playing her entire CD. It was pretty awesome. &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;The past week was terrible. Work, this week at work was probably the worst and most stressful week ever, even beating the GE week and likely the coming PE week. But you know, people can be really very nice to you in time of need. I've never had so many people offering me comfort this week. I'm lucky, really lucky to have such people in my life.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Anyway, been having a spurt of must be productive spirit rushing through my veins recently. Signed up for Japanese classes with Cindy for Sundays morning. I don't want to waste my weekends away again. But then again, sleeping in should never be considered a waste of time. Getting old, I can feel it. I can't take late nights and little sleep like I used to. I guess I like this as well, being busy.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Having things to do, people to meet, things to rush out, gatherings to organize. I want to feel like a super woman. Being able to cope with work, having time for friends, being the person there. spending time with family. I want it all. And I know I can.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;This feeling better last, cause I've never felt this determined and so good about myself. ever.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Let's go Evelyn, be magnificent!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-lMl0QtU-E3M/TkbOlEvAupI/AAAAAAAAGlU/EO7KNEyckp8/s1600/D1030022.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 265px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-lMl0QtU-E3M/TkbOlEvAupI/AAAAAAAAGlU/EO7KNEyckp8/s400/D1030022.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5640422719649528466" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17859163-3721711762271796309?l=neuroticsongs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17859163/posts/default/3721711762271796309'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17859163/posts/default/3721711762271796309'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://neuroticsongs.blogspot.com/2011/08/at-some-point-in-my-life-id-like-to-be.html' title='at some point in my life, I&apos;d like to be magnificent please.'/><author><name>eve</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://img.youtube.com/vi/rYEDA3JcQqw/default.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17859163.post-2099193507619902709</id><published>2011-08-05T19:55:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2011-08-05T20:01:59.620+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Change</title><content type='html'>Why are we so afraid of it? If things are wrong why dont we correct it? &lt;br /&gt;I understand, the comfort zone is such a big thing in everybody's life. But I cannot stand that everyone knows something isn't going to work, hasn't been working, can no longer work and they don't do amything about it!!! Why? So we are safe? In the long run who suffers? Everyone! Who benefits? No one! How is this not clear to so many of you who have experienced so much with your life's?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Have you not learn? The ostrich will never solve anything! If things are not going well you damn well do something about it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There is always a time and place to whine and grumble and complain. But if the issue has a time constraint do really think looking for the person to blame should be your number one priority? How about fixing the problem first?  And if there's someone to blame it will never be just one person. How about the supervisor? The supervisor? The auditor? The partners? No one saw trouble coming? Then either everyone else is equally stupid or just did not bother. That itself should be faulted as well.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm not going to take this lying down. It's ridiculous and so porposturous that it's still happening now. Super irritated.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Change people, or you will never know and you will never be sadder. But never happier as well.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"we are not fairies"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17859163-2099193507619902709?l=neuroticsongs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17859163/posts/default/2099193507619902709'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17859163/posts/default/2099193507619902709'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://neuroticsongs.blogspot.com/2011/08/change.html' title='Change'/><author><name>eve</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17859163.post-6013268170914075587</id><published>2011-08-01T20:41:00.005+08:00</published><updated>2011-08-01T21:21:59.198+08:00</updated><title type='text'>up North Down Under with some trusty film.</title><content type='html'>It's true, excellent company make for excellent trips. This trip really showed how much fun, joy and laughter one can have with the right people. Every single day, I enjoyed myself, every moment was either fun, gorgeous or breathtaking. I never wanted to come back. It was almost everything I wanted in a road trip. The singing, the eating, the late night chats and the silly games we played. I don't understand how it could be better. &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;We don't need no five star hotel, &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;we just need this freedom.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-mW634qKZ9xI/Tjag4AFdYKI/AAAAAAAAGlM/ka053Jqvf4k/s1600/D1070022.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 265px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-mW634qKZ9xI/Tjag4AFdYKI/AAAAAAAAGlM/ka053Jqvf4k/s400/D1070022.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5635868867656769698" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Ofvs4Wo0Gjg/Tjag371ucMI/AAAAAAAAGlE/-jdU6zgX-GA/s1600/D1070018.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 265px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Ofvs4Wo0Gjg/Tjag371ucMI/AAAAAAAAGlE/-jdU6zgX-GA/s400/D1070018.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5635868866517037250" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-EzJQCn1L634/Tjag3w_-1zI/AAAAAAAAGk8/zy7basZNNeo/s1600/D1030002.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 265px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-EzJQCn1L634/Tjag3w_-1zI/AAAAAAAAGk8/zy7basZNNeo/s400/D1030002.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5635868863607265074" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-ld7Le9oIbRg/Tjag3mqQ3FI/AAAAAAAAGk0/54hPSux0XP8/s1600/D1020020.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 265px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-ld7Le9oIbRg/Tjag3mqQ3FI/AAAAAAAAGk0/54hPSux0XP8/s400/D1020020.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5635868860831816786" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-LrgXpH_fXoA/TjafhbepctI/AAAAAAAAGks/q34QXCYg884/s1600/D1020003.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 265px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-LrgXpH_fXoA/TjafhbepctI/AAAAAAAAGks/q34QXCYg884/s400/D1020003.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5635867380361556690" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-cRhbWRxlvGc/TjafhLjzj8I/AAAAAAAAGkk/Ye_80vt-yRk/s1600/F1010030.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 268px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-cRhbWRxlvGc/TjafhLjzj8I/AAAAAAAAGkk/Ye_80vt-yRk/s400/F1010030.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5635867376088223682" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/--H08-yMs75Y/Tjafg6iZIfI/AAAAAAAAGkc/goi9z2lGB_I/s1600/F1000012.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 268px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/--H08-yMs75Y/Tjafg6iZIfI/AAAAAAAAGkc/goi9z2lGB_I/s400/F1000012.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5635867371518894578" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Mb4bx-WXkas/TjafgugP0_I/AAAAAAAAGkU/IIJAYycIKXw/s1600/F1000002.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 268px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Mb4bx-WXkas/TjafgugP0_I/AAAAAAAAGkU/IIJAYycIKXw/s400/F1000002.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5635867368288670706" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-33ER3ykhwWk/TjafgRz6GRI/AAAAAAAAGkM/64y1pvZjRTc/s1600/F1000024.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 268px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-33ER3ykhwWk/TjafgRz6GRI/AAAAAAAAGkM/64y1pvZjRTc/s400/F1000024.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5635867360586504466" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Also, this trip rekindled my love for film photography. So beautiful how so many of the pictures came out. Brought the right cameras with the right film to the right place. I love the sun streaks which appear on my photos and I am in love with slide film. But not much sense using them in Singapore cause the pictures won't turn out as nice. Unless I go snapping on a hothothot day, which I totally DNW. oh well. Enjoy them abroad!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17859163-6013268170914075587?l=neuroticsongs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17859163/posts/default/6013268170914075587'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17859163/posts/default/6013268170914075587'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://neuroticsongs.blogspot.com/2011/08/up-north-down-under-with-some-trusty.html' title='up North Down Under with some trusty film.'/><author><name>eve</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-mW634qKZ9xI/Tjag4AFdYKI/AAAAAAAAGlM/ka053Jqvf4k/s72-c/D1070022.JPG' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17859163.post-8771957245963853436</id><published>2011-06-27T23:37:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2011-06-27T23:42:22.444+08:00</updated><title type='text'>This is mortality.</title><content type='html'>Today I visited an officer given about one month to live. She has stage 4 terminal breast cancer. &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;She has a freaking memo from the doctor stating she has a few weeks to a month to live.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;And she's all ready. She has settled all her bills, she's bought her place in the crematorium. The only thing she hasn't settled was the very thing I had to go and talk to her about. And there I was in her face reminding her of her mortality.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;She was so brave, smiling and going on, serving me water being so frank and open. She has wonderful friends around her. Being next to her, helping her in these final days. It's from here I can see what a wonderful person she must have been, still is, to have made such strong friends. I can only hope to develop relationships as precious and as meaningful as her.&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;And at the end of it all she thanked me. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17859163-8771957245963853436?l=neuroticsongs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17859163/posts/default/8771957245963853436'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17859163/posts/default/8771957245963853436'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://neuroticsongs.blogspot.com/2011/06/this-is-mortality.html' title='This is mortality.'/><author><name>eve</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17859163.post-6238427462963887512</id><published>2011-06-26T22:36:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2011-06-26T22:40:10.068+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-WZ-V94wzOiE/SW95vo-57XI/AAAAAAAADio/DEBKa_rs7xU/s512/IMG_7540.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 384px; height: 512px;" src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-WZ-V94wzOiE/SW95vo-57XI/AAAAAAAADio/DEBKa_rs7xU/s512/IMG_7540.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I miss London.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Been crazy watching Doctor Who again. Haven't gone on to Matt Smith yet, still watching the David Tennant ones. OMG I am totally shipping Ten/Rose. And I don't actually find Rose that attractive. Still she's a lot prettier than River Song. OMG I wish they got someone prettier for it. I mean the actress is pretty awesome and her character is awesome, I just wished it was someone younger looking and looked less like Miss Frizzle. It would lessen the pain of not having Ten/Rose. Oh well.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Started watching Doctor Who back in the UK, I miss life there so so much. Or maybe I just missed living alone.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17859163-6238427462963887512?l=neuroticsongs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17859163/posts/default/6238427462963887512'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17859163/posts/default/6238427462963887512'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://neuroticsongs.blogspot.com/2011/06/i-miss-london.html' title=''/><author><name>eve</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-WZ-V94wzOiE/SW95vo-57XI/AAAAAAAADio/DEBKa_rs7xU/s72-c/IMG_7540.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17859163.post-4199789510625442897</id><published>2011-06-07T00:23:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2011-06-07T00:28:56.770+08:00</updated><title type='text'>I just want to be loved.</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-kzF0yAqIlMY/Te0APIx7xWI/AAAAAAAAGig/SabXFOIAEtE/s1600/P1030325.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-kzF0yAqIlMY/Te0APIx7xWI/AAAAAAAAGig/SabXFOIAEtE/s400/P1030325.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5615144570455836002" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17859163-4199789510625442897?l=neuroticsongs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17859163/posts/default/4199789510625442897'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17859163/posts/default/4199789510625442897'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://neuroticsongs.blogspot.com/2011/06/i-just-want-to-be-loved.html' title='I just want to be loved.'/><author><name>eve</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-kzF0yAqIlMY/Te0APIx7xWI/AAAAAAAAGig/SabXFOIAEtE/s72-c/P1030325.JPG' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17859163.post-5293289582577031230</id><published>2011-06-07T00:06:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2011-06-07T00:10:46.654+08:00</updated><title type='text'>It isn't the same anymore, and it will never be as before.</title><content type='html'>Maybe eventually I'll let go and it won't hurt. &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;"&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small; "&gt;But there’s always going to be people like that in life; people you’re terribly sensitive to. Your own emotions count for nothing as long as they’re smiling and you hate yourself for it, hate yourself for thinking that every single gesture and word from that person matter more than you, but there’s nothing you can do about it except drink yourself into oblivion. Then you wake up the next morning –wishing your head will fall off by itself– only to find that the sun’s still up and the cycle repeats. That, is not very fun. "&lt;/span&gt;&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/17859163-5293289582577031230?l=neuroticsongs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17859163/posts/default/5293289582577031230'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17859163/posts/default/5293289582577031230'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://neuroticsongs.blogspot.com/2011/06/it-isnt-same-anymore-and-it-will-never.html' title='It isn&apos;t the same anymore, and it will never be as before.'/><author><name>eve</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17859163.post-336959037907560145</id><published>2011-05-24T23:42:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2011-05-24T23:48:21.820+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Prejudice.</title><content type='html'>On the train today, I spotted a funny looking girl. All in pink with a short skirt, pink bag and pink iphone cover. Yet she was so muscular, like those tennis players, just short of a body builder.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;1st judgement, why would such a sporty looking person like the girly pink so much?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;And there I looked at her neck and very obviously, there's an Adam's apple. Girl in pink is a dude.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I'm pretty liberal, but 2nd judgement was OH. MY. GOD. what a revelation!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I'm not anti-homo/transvestitism/'deviance' but I can't help my initial reaction. Perhaps I'm socially educated that way. It's not that I discriminate, but 'deviant' people have to realise that they can be accepted just maybe not right away.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17859163-336959037907560145?l=neuroticsongs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17859163/posts/default/336959037907560145'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17859163/posts/default/336959037907560145'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://neuroticsongs.blogspot.com/2011/05/prejudice.html' title='Prejudice.'/><author><name>eve</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17859163.post-1301159639770057785</id><published>2011-05-16T02:21:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2011-05-16T02:26:42.646+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Understand that I do.</title><content type='html'>&lt;object width="640" height="390"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/8FXU3RuX8eo?fs=1&amp;amp;hl=en_US"&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/8FXU3RuX8eo?fs=1&amp;amp;hl=en_US" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" width="640" height="390" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;There are a few things I wished I could have told you. But I was 14 and you may not have listened. So these are important, I won't hesitate to tell it anymore. I hope they listen and understand. Understand, that I understand.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;ol&gt;&lt;li&gt;It's okay to be different.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Everyone hates themselves once in a while.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Maybe even all the time.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;There is a bright side to things.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Put the past away.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Everyone judges, but there are people who can see past their own judgements.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;I understand.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ol&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&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;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;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I wished you had stepped back from that ledge my friend.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17859163-1301159639770057785?l=neuroticsongs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17859163/posts/default/1301159639770057785'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17859163/posts/default/1301159639770057785'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://neuroticsongs.blogspot.com/2011/05/there-are-few-things-i-wished-i-could.html' title='Understand that I do.'/><author><name>eve</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17859163.post-7484840460816555914</id><published>2011-05-01T22:11:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2011-05-01T22:20:27.421+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Va-caycaycay-tion</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-x093zDLkPiA/Tb1r1_Xe53I/AAAAAAAAGhg/cV8QUJbbpEI/s1600/P1010647.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"&gt;&lt;img style="text-align: right;display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; cursor: pointer; width: 266px; height: 400px; " src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-x093zDLkPiA/Tb1r1_Xe53I/AAAAAAAAGhg/cV8QUJbbpEI/s400/P1010647.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5601752086805931890" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;Basically I want to go on a holiday&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;to a place with pretty night lights&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;Where we'll wear flowery autumn clothes,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;bitch about the chilly wind,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;and eat ice cream through it.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;We'll take long afternoon walks,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;revel in the sun.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;Waste time taking photos of the grass.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;wandering in our painful shoes.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;We'll wear cardigans and scarfs,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;sunglasses and make up.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;While we pretend to understand&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;the avant-garde art.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17859163-7484840460816555914?l=neuroticsongs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17859163/posts/default/7484840460816555914'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17859163/posts/default/7484840460816555914'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://neuroticsongs.blogspot.com/2011/05/va-caycaycay-tion.html' title='Va-caycaycay-tion'/><author><name>eve</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-x093zDLkPiA/Tb1r1_Xe53I/AAAAAAAAGhg/cV8QUJbbpEI/s72-c/P1010647.JPG' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17859163.post-8048137578858821184</id><published>2011-04-19T22:48:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2011-04-19T22:53:11.524+08:00</updated><title type='text'>And so it begins</title><content type='html'>GE was announced today. I kind of just want to hole up and cry about the amount of work, the 17 billion gazillion things waiting for me to do. I need a break. I've planned it already.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Doing this job made me realised how much I've just been shoved into deep waters. Sometimes I just want to shout out loud, "NEED HAND HOLDING NOT READY. WILL NEVER BE READY." Insecurity and stress. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;It can be a few things.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;1 insecurity eating me up&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;2 I'm lonely. very.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;3 in need in need in need. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;4 tired.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;5 dont want to face the world.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;6 I could be so much happier.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;This entry is not coherent. But it's been a while since I have been.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I wish I was away now.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17859163-8048137578858821184?l=neuroticsongs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17859163/posts/default/8048137578858821184'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17859163/posts/default/8048137578858821184'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://neuroticsongs.blogspot.com/2011/04/and-so-it-begins.html' title='And so it begins'/><author><name>eve</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17859163.post-918610902773511727</id><published>2011-04-05T21:02:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2011-04-05T21:11:58.199+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Screw up.</title><content type='html'>I screwed up badly at work today. Like I've been telling everyone, it's my fault only not really. I'm new so there are a lot of details I'm unaware of. And I'm unaware that I am unaware. Objectively it's still my fault. &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;If I did more research, look further and deeper, had more foresight I could have prevented it.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Instead my strongest excuse is I was unaware. How stupid is that.&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;And the guilt. The problem with being in hr is that you screwing up, means screwing with people's career, life. Not just myself. It would be much easier if so.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17859163-918610902773511727?l=neuroticsongs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17859163/posts/default/918610902773511727'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17859163/posts/default/918610902773511727'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://neuroticsongs.blogspot.com/2011/04/screw-up.html' title='Screw up.'/><author><name>eve</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17859163.post-655771739529465663</id><published>2011-03-23T21:16:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2011-03-23T21:20:12.447+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Pray for Japan</title><content type='html'>As if the daily reports of the kindness and generosity of the Japanese is not enough, today on a more personal level I've felt it once again.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;My Dad recently went to the funeral of the 5 year old child of one of his Japanese colleague. In return they gave him a freaking box of TWG tea bags. It's like if I lost my 5 year old child buying expansive gifts, or even simple gifts, whatever, would be the last thing on my mind.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;It just shows, even during the toughest time, you can continue to have a societal based thinking.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;It may be a different form of altruism, but still. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;被感动了&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17859163-655771739529465663?l=neuroticsongs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17859163/posts/default/655771739529465663'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17859163/posts/default/655771739529465663'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://neuroticsongs.blogspot.com/2011/03/pray-for-japan.html' title='Pray for Japan'/><author><name>eve</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17859163.post-331726021515827435</id><published>2011-03-02T20:49:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2011-03-02T21:01:23.691+08:00</updated><title type='text'>What are you afraid of?</title><content type='html'>I fear being alone.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't need to be taken care of. I don't need someone to pull up a chair, to open a door. I don't need someone to pay my bills and buy me just because presents. I don't need the additional burden, then invasion of privacy. I don't need the smothering and phone calls. I don't need to be treated like porcelain.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I just don't want to be alone.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Because not knowing the sadness, the pining, the yearning, the disappointment, the need, the helplessness also means not knowing the joy, the fulfillment, the excitement, the rush through your head, your heart.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm tired of playing second fiddle to be honest. I want to be selfish and give 100% and get 150%, because that is exactly how tired I am.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-uaoMDKCFzOI/TW4_iQLpkTI/AAAAAAAAGhY/Ad6cY_MgM1s/s1600/P1010055.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 225px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-uaoMDKCFzOI/TW4_iQLpkTI/AAAAAAAAGhY/Ad6cY_MgM1s/s400/P1010055.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5579466846050554162" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But none of &lt;i&gt;you &lt;/i&gt;can understand that.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17859163-331726021515827435?l=neuroticsongs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17859163/posts/default/331726021515827435'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17859163/posts/default/331726021515827435'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://neuroticsongs.blogspot.com/2011/03/what-are-you-afraid-of.html' title='What are you afraid of?'/><author><name>eve</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-uaoMDKCFzOI/TW4_iQLpkTI/AAAAAAAAGhY/Ad6cY_MgM1s/s72-c/P1010055.JPG' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17859163.post-2999306036694739609</id><published>2011-02-19T23:55:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2011-02-19T23:56:55.278+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Invested emotions.</title><content type='html'>&lt;object width="640" height="390"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/KC_bpAObP3Q?fs=1&amp;amp;hl=en_US"&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/KC_bpAObP3Q?fs=1&amp;amp;hl=en_US" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="640" height="390"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&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;Words cannot express how I feel now. Just, the rush of emotion is amazing. I can't believe I've so much invested emotion into these boys. WTF, I judge myself.&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;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17859163-2999306036694739609?l=neuroticsongs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17859163/posts/default/2999306036694739609'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17859163/posts/default/2999306036694739609'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://neuroticsongs.blogspot.com/2011/02/invested-emotions.html' title='Invested emotions.'/><author><name>eve</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17859163.post-2935297653621299629</id><published>2011-02-16T23:38:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2011-02-16T23:39:15.074+08:00</updated><title type='text'>This is me.</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;"&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small; "&gt;But there’s always going to be people like that in life; people you’re terribly sensitive to. Your own emotions count for nothing as long as they’re smiling and you hate yourself for it, hate yourself for thinking that every single gesture and word from that person matter more than you, but there’s nothing you can do about it except drink yourself into oblivion. Then you wake up the next morning –wishing your head will fall off by itself– only to find that the sun’s still up and the cycle repeats. That, is not very fun."&lt;/span&gt;&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/17859163-2935297653621299629?l=neuroticsongs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17859163/posts/default/2935297653621299629'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17859163/posts/default/2935297653621299629'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://neuroticsongs.blogspot.com/2011/02/this-is-me.html' title='This is me.'/><author><name>eve</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17859163.post-5164636391846329249</id><published>2011-02-14T22:56:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2011-02-14T23:00:25.956+08:00</updated><title type='text'>St Valentines had something going for him</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://29.media.tumblr.com/tumblr_lgg1owSyZG1qztjsyo1_500.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 500px; height: 500px;" src="http://29.media.tumblr.com/tumblr_lgg1owSyZG1qztjsyo1_500.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Happy Valentines Day! I like celebrations, it's an excuse to spend money and treat yourself well. I don't care that its commercialism and evil capitalism at work. It feels great and I like it.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Today was once again a singles valentines, but it's wonderful reading about the awesome valentines my friends have. :) It's always a blessing to see happy people.&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;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;On Friday a friend's Dad passed away. Instantly when I heard the news, my mind flashed back to you. How when they nailed the coffin shut, they nailed a part of my heart in it. Sometimes I'm so afraid of forgetting, times like these remind me that I won't.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I miss you.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17859163-5164636391846329249?l=neuroticsongs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17859163/posts/default/5164636391846329249'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17859163/posts/default/5164636391846329249'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://neuroticsongs.blogspot.com/2011/02/st-valentines-had-something-going-for.html' title='St Valentines had something going for him'/><author><name>eve</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17859163.post-3394775319586219794</id><published>2011-02-03T20:25:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2011-02-03T20:29:48.468+08:00</updated><title type='text'>The best 红包 ever.</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_f5BHvJAZ8S0/TUqe5pDqNGI/AAAAAAAAGhQ/fuz9ZZtWyqM/s1600/cny.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 400px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_f5BHvJAZ8S0/TUqe5pDqNGI/AAAAAAAAGhQ/fuz9ZZtWyqM/s400/cny.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5569438602307974242" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Above is the CNY goodies table at my grandmother's house. As expected, there was plenty of heated bad for you food all around. Still the food my grandmother cooks tastes best. Probably because its the kind of food I grew up eating, so it will forever taste like coming home.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;This year the best 红包 didn't come from anyone to me. It was actually the fat 红包 I was able to give my grandmother. It felt great to be able to give her money, to be able to give her something back after all these years. My family isn't the closest of all, but we do things our own way and at the end of it all, we're family.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;To me, this means something.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17859163-3394775319586219794?l=neuroticsongs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17859163/posts/default/3394775319586219794'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17859163/posts/default/3394775319586219794'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://neuroticsongs.blogspot.com/2011/02/best-ever.html' title='The best 红包 ever.'/><author><name>eve</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_f5BHvJAZ8S0/TUqe5pDqNGI/AAAAAAAAGhQ/fuz9ZZtWyqM/s72-c/cny.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17859163.post-944077925506514882</id><published>2011-01-30T01:18:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2011-01-30T03:45:51.666+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Concert, worth the obscene $$ they make you pay.</title><content type='html'>&lt;ol&gt;&lt;li&gt;SS3 was awesome for two things, the very concert itself and the new friends I made.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;I am a strange fan.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Mosh pit people were treated like dogs. The first rule when your job involves people (and most jobs do) is to have a little pr skills. Or everything will just bite you in the ass.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Totally want to go SS3 in KL now.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;There are plenty of mad fans.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;I was overwhelmed during the concert so much so I didn't cry or scream much, all I could do was just keep my eyes wide open and try to take in as much as possible.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Kangin =|&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ol&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Life is pretty fulfilling right now with work and social stuffs. But somehow I get the feeling I'm missing out on something very important in life. Perhaps I should soften my stance on it. But I just can't. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;i&gt;"Tell me who wants to look back on those years and wonder, where those years have gone?"&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17859163-944077925506514882?l=neuroticsongs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17859163/posts/default/944077925506514882'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17859163/posts/default/944077925506514882'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://neuroticsongs.blogspot.com/2011/01/concert-worth-obscene-they-make-you-pay.html' title='Concert, worth the obscene $$ they make you pay.'/><author><name>eve</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17859163.post-163889266396309968</id><published>2011-01-16T23:27:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2011-01-16T23:28:46.128+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Rejoice your voice, your voice rejoice.</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;My current earworm is finally not a trashy song.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="640" height="385"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/bWeR2F7ETLU?fs=1&amp;amp;hl=en_US"&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/bWeR2F7ETLU?fs=1&amp;amp;hl=en_US" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="640" height="385"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;So hauntingly beautiful.&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/17859163-163889266396309968?l=neuroticsongs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17859163/posts/default/163889266396309968'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17859163/posts/default/163889266396309968'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://neuroticsongs.blogspot.com/2011/01/rejoice-your-voice-your-voice-rejoice.html' title='Rejoice your voice, your voice rejoice.'/><author><name>eve</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17859163.post-2622509507254102583</id><published>2011-01-13T00:17:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2011-01-13T00:17:53.342+08:00</updated><title type='text'>我很想你</title><content type='html'>so very much.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17859163-2622509507254102583?l=neuroticsongs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17859163/posts/default/2622509507254102583'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17859163/posts/default/2622509507254102583'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://neuroticsongs.blogspot.com/2011/01/blog-post.html' title='我很想你'/><author><name>eve</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17859163.post-2606107764410903811</id><published>2010-12-25T02:43:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2010-12-25T02:46:18.312+08:00</updated><title type='text'>To be rational or stingy?</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://www.balenciaga.com/us/en/balenciaga/Women/Handbags/TopHandles/P-Giant-City-Lambskin-Gold-Plated.aspx#view-color"&gt;BAG HEAVEN &lt;/a&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;So technically I have the money to get one of these babies, but when will I ever be to spend a four figure sum on a bag without feeling like I am cutting off an arm? Never?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I don't even have a three figure sum bag. Which is already blood inducing as it is.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17859163-2606107764410903811?l=neuroticsongs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17859163/posts/default/2606107764410903811'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17859163/posts/default/2606107764410903811'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://neuroticsongs.blogspot.com/2010/12/to-be-rational-or-stingy.html' title='To be rational or stingy?'/><author><name>eve</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17859163.post-8437504127709822314</id><published>2010-12-18T22:55:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2010-12-18T22:59:37.132+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Such is my heart games.</title><content type='html'>I would love to travel the world with you. Take to the skies and jump off the clouds.&lt;div&gt;Eat from the streets, drink wine in the evening, the stars of real light up.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;We could walk two thousand miles or run across plaza, piazza, all of them.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;We would waste time on inconsequential things and forget the important ones.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;No one to child us though.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;It would be such a dream.&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;Except, you're not the one.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17859163-8437504127709822314?l=neuroticsongs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17859163/posts/default/8437504127709822314'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17859163/posts/default/8437504127709822314'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://neuroticsongs.blogspot.com/2010/12/such-is-my-heart-games.html' title='Such is my heart games.'/><author><name>eve</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17859163.post-5399422189742485820</id><published>2010-12-07T19:21:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2010-12-07T19:24:36.814+08:00</updated><title type='text'>In many ways I am a lousy friend.</title><content type='html'>So I've been doing a little thinking and have come to the conclusion that I am a lousy friend and no wonder people don't like me.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Okay, I've had a few epiphanies like this in my life, but whatever, this time it's more than a light bulb.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;"ask not what others can give you, but what you can give others"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I will make a conscious effort to be less of a burden, less of a guilt tripper. More of a happy.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Also, the annual project be nice is back again. :):):)&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;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17859163-5399422189742485820?l=neuroticsongs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17859163/posts/default/5399422189742485820'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17859163/posts/default/5399422189742485820'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://neuroticsongs.blogspot.com/2010/12/in-many-ways-i-am-lousy-friend.html' title='In many ways I am a lousy friend.'/><author><name>eve</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17859163.post-1058022726190810809</id><published>2010-12-03T19:51:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2010-12-03T20:04:02.810+08:00</updated><title type='text'>2 times I almost cried.</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://sphotos.ak.fbcdn.net/hphotos-ak-snc4/hs1178.snc4/155079_479848703152_759093152_5783290_6717235_n.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="text-align: justify;float: center; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: 10px; cursor: pointer; width: 540px; height: 720px; " src="http://sphotos.ak.fbcdn.net/hphotos-ak-snc4/hs1178.snc4/155079_479848703152_759093152_5783290_6717235_n.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;I am such a sap, but words alone can never express fully how I felt watching Fidz and James exchanging vows and rings. Admittedly the church wedding was way too pious for me. And yes, they have already been married since August. But still, when I look at the way he treats her and how she smiles at him, I don't even have to wish them happiness. Because they definitely look like they have it. :)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;In other less matrimonial news, Christmas is coming! And I'm pretty excited because I want to buy my family stuff. Maybe even treat them to a Christmas meal. But we'll see how it goes. Anyhoooo, must pay more visits to M&amp;amp;S for their Christmas goodies...or just for their Jaffa cakes. JAFFA CAKES. Omg, one taste and it was like I was back in the UK.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Back in the UK, at Lancaster in my dorm room. Typing with frozen fingers, my bed just right behind me. My desk full of not-study-items, my closet filled with winter clothes. Sleet pelting my window, heater not really working. Oh bullocks, I miss all of these so much. I never thought it would happen, but eating Jaffa cakes almost made me cry.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;I like December.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17859163-1058022726190810809?l=neuroticsongs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17859163/posts/default/1058022726190810809'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17859163/posts/default/1058022726190810809'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://neuroticsongs.blogspot.com/2010/12/2-times-i-almost-cried.html' title='2 times I almost cried.'/><author><name>eve</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17859163.post-2895842259377348086</id><published>2010-11-26T11:34:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2010-11-26T11:51:24.109+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Flyday Friday once again</title><content type='html'>I seem to finally be settling down at work. So much so I actually have the time to blog at work now. Or it might just be not a peak period for my branch now. Whatever the reason, I'm glad I'm finally catching up. So much less of those painfully awkward moments now, even if they will never really truly be over. but I can settle for less. Less is more.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Fidz's wedding is on Saturday and I am actually pretty excited for it even if I have been bitching about it for weeks. I think I'm only starting to comprehend what it'll be like to witness her and James exchange vows. I've know the girl since I was 15 and to date my image of her largely sparks from the image of us as 15-16 year olds in our blue factory worker uniforms. Knowing Fidz, it probably won't be very emotional, especially since they've actually been married since August. But still, in my heart I know I am actually a giant sap and Saturday will be a magical day all in it's own way.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Below is my favourite kitty photograph of the moment. It was one of the many &lt;i&gt;noraneko&lt;/i&gt; I saw in Japan. But this lazy affectionate sweetheart was actually on a mountain, at the &lt;i&gt;Fushimi Inari Shrine&lt;/i&gt;. Oh how nice it would be to lead a kitty's life. I actually think a perfect holiday right now would be,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;awesome possum weather, which in my terms mean cold weather.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;in a city with bright lights and tiny alleys.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;things around my neck would include a scarf and a camera.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;snapping photographs of stray kitties.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;the most awesome of company.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;Clearly I need a holiday.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://sphotos.ak.fbcdn.net/hphotos-ak-snc3/hs570.snc3/31089_412556653152_759093152_4345671_2429909_n.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 540px; height: 720px;" src="http://sphotos.ak.fbcdn.net/hphotos-ak-snc3/hs570.snc3/31089_412556653152_759093152_4345671_2429909_n.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&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/17859163-2895842259377348086?l=neuroticsongs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17859163/posts/default/2895842259377348086'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17859163/posts/default/2895842259377348086'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://neuroticsongs.blogspot.com/2010/11/flyday-friday-once-again.html' title='Flyday Friday once again'/><author><name>eve</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17859163.post-1008416832880125291</id><published>2010-11-25T09:39:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2010-11-25T09:41:24.045+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Don't you just miss the yesteryears?</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_f5BHvJAZ8S0/TO2-dyPyj2I/AAAAAAAAGg8/Z38Fguf4uBM/s1600/playground.png"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_f5BHvJAZ8S0/TO2-dyPyj2I/AAAAAAAAGg8/Z38Fguf4uBM/s400/playground.png" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5543296135276433250" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We don't have sand playgrounds in our HDB estates anymore. As much as I dislike sand, I do miss those playgrounds. I remember a lot of digging. Not the most fun of things to do, but there you go, lots of digging.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17859163-1008416832880125291?l=neuroticsongs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17859163/posts/default/1008416832880125291'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17859163/posts/default/1008416832880125291'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://neuroticsongs.blogspot.com/2010/11/dont-you-just-miss-yesteryears.html' title='Don&apos;t you just miss the yesteryears?'/><author><name>eve</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_f5BHvJAZ8S0/TO2-dyPyj2I/AAAAAAAAGg8/Z38Fguf4uBM/s72-c/playground.png' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17859163.post-6434581425363205105</id><published>2010-11-17T19:42:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2010-11-17T19:46:45.069+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Kittydom.</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://30.media.tumblr.com/tumblr_lbtgnttFt51qejwryo1_500.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 466px; height: 700px;" src="http://30.media.tumblr.com/tumblr_lbtgnttFt51qejwryo1_500.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Feeling sort of/slightly/minutely/perhaps lonely right now. If only I had a kitty to cuddle up to. Unfortunately all I saw was some hit and run photos of tiny kitties instead. Damnit, the things in facebook. ):&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Spent the awesome public holiday with the family, with lots of sleeping and eating and basically being a bed/couch/chair potato. Holidays like that are awesome, especially in this weather. Meowmeow. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I also read up a lot on the history of hip hop feuds. Because it was great fun. And also very interesting that wikipedia was filled with gangsta speak. I shall now cozy up with a good book and a good drink. Yummy yummy yummy.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17859163-6434581425363205105?l=neuroticsongs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17859163/posts/default/6434581425363205105'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17859163/posts/default/6434581425363205105'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://neuroticsongs.blogspot.com/2010/11/kittydom.html' title='Kittydom.'/><author><name>eve</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17859163.post-3414079447813170400</id><published>2010-11-14T20:11:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2010-11-14T20:15:27.371+08:00</updated><title type='text'>End of the four year wait.</title><content type='html'>And today was slightly uncomfortable. Slightly awkward. Slightly lets-avoid-the-elephant-in-the-room. Things have changed, we are not the same. SO much to say and nothing to say at all as well.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;But it's ten precious steps forward today. And maybe you couldn't tell, but I haven't felt so happy in a while.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;It was so good meeting you, so good talking to you, so good being bitchy, so good getting into trouble, so good, just simply talking to you.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I have missed this so.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17859163-3414079447813170400?l=neuroticsongs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17859163/posts/default/3414079447813170400'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17859163/posts/default/3414079447813170400'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://neuroticsongs.blogspot.com/2010/11/end-of-four-year-wait.html' title='End of the four year wait.'/><author><name>eve</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17859163.post-6700344581040396078</id><published>2010-11-13T20:25:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2010-11-13T20:26:56.475+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Teddy bear crisps, strawberry milk.</title><content type='html'>And I'm crossing my fingers and toes so hard for tomorrow you have no idea.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17859163-6700344581040396078?l=neuroticsongs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17859163/posts/default/6700344581040396078'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17859163/posts/default/6700344581040396078'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://neuroticsongs.blogspot.com/2010/11/teddy-bear-crisps-strawberry-milk.html' title='Teddy bear crisps, strawberry milk.'/><author><name>eve</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17859163.post-1239062960561160469</id><published>2010-11-07T03:38:00.004+08:00</published><updated>2010-11-07T03:42:29.131+08:00</updated><title type='text'>One day it will all be too late.</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_f5BHvJAZ8S0/TNWvZElqAoI/AAAAAAAAGg0/LRQfpxqI5ho/s1600/P1010227.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_f5BHvJAZ8S0/TNWvZElqAoI/AAAAAAAAGg0/LRQfpxqI5ho/s400/P1010227.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5536524162185167490" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So let's live today and tomorrow. Live in the way of no regrets.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I love my family, more than you will ever know.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I love my friends, more than they will ever know.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I love my life, more than I will ever know.&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/17859163-1239062960561160469?l=neuroticsongs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17859163/posts/default/1239062960561160469'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17859163/posts/default/1239062960561160469'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://neuroticsongs.blogspot.com/2010/11/one-day-it-will-all-be-too-late.html' title='One day it will all be too late.'/><author><name>eve</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_f5BHvJAZ8S0/TNWvZElqAoI/AAAAAAAAGg0/LRQfpxqI5ho/s72-c/P1010227.JPG' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17859163.post-416595682455661963</id><published>2010-11-05T20:51:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2010-11-05T20:51:27.419+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Use me, abuse me.</title><content type='html'>Throw me away.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17859163-416595682455661963?l=neuroticsongs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17859163/posts/default/416595682455661963'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17859163/posts/default/416595682455661963'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://neuroticsongs.blogspot.com/2010/11/use-me-abuse-me.html' title='Use me, abuse me.'/><author><name>eve</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17859163.post-1172616373707282231</id><published>2010-10-26T21:25:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2010-10-26T21:27:58.091+08:00</updated><title type='text'>The comfort of it all.</title><content type='html'>After two and a half weeks of being on course, I don't want to go back to work.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I like being with people my age. There are minimal awkwardness. We do things together. The company is great. The venue is near my house, I wake up about an hour later. Honestly I'm just much happier.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;People really matter.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;The last three days better pass slowly.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;:(&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17859163-1172616373707282231?l=neuroticsongs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17859163/posts/default/1172616373707282231'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17859163/posts/default/1172616373707282231'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://neuroticsongs.blogspot.com/2010/10/after-two-and-half-weeks-of-being-on.html' title='The comfort of it all.'/><author><name>eve</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17859163.post-6711511879503830880</id><published>2010-10-17T22:39:00.005+08:00</published><updated>2010-10-17T22:59:39.270+08:00</updated><title type='text'>CRY YOUR HEART OUT PLEASE</title><content type='html'>such is life. &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;It's filled with challenges and obstacles to take you down. And they will. Today tomorrow, yesterday. We all fall.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Yesterday I went back to my office because on Friday I managed to have 10mins to check my email and found 236 emails waiting for me. Each demanding my full attention and abilities I do not have.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Yesterday I cried. Because I couldn't take it. I couldn't handle the stress and everything everyone was expecting of 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;And and and, after my cry I felt so much better. Suddenly my problems didn't seem so big, practical solutions appeared in my mind. Never mind that many things aren't settled, I am on my path to solving them. You can never finish work, but its always great to get things going.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I've always felt a good cry may not help the problems directly, but it allows me to release my anger, frustration and grief. It clears my mind and I think better. At the very least my thoughts don't gear towards anger so eagerly.&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;So, at the end of the day, things will get better. They will get worse for sure. But everything will be alright.&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;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_f5BHvJAZ8S0/TLsNDWsaTMI/AAAAAAAAGgs/i6jkxXEseVg/s1600/P1040473.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_f5BHvJAZ8S0/TLsNDWsaTMI/AAAAAAAAGgs/i6jkxXEseVg/s400/P1040473.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5529027318810037442" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" &gt;everything will be alright.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&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/17859163-6711511879503830880?l=neuroticsongs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17859163/posts/default/6711511879503830880'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17859163/posts/default/6711511879503830880'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://neuroticsongs.blogspot.com/2010/10/cry-your-heart-out-please.html' title='CRY YOUR HEART OUT PLEASE'/><author><name>eve</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_f5BHvJAZ8S0/TLsNDWsaTMI/AAAAAAAAGgs/i6jkxXEseVg/s72-c/P1040473.JPG' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17859163.post-6985228780627201234</id><published>2010-10-10T21:19:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2010-10-10T21:25:22.993+08:00</updated><title type='text'>It's like leaving my baby ALL ALONE</title><content type='html'>So, I've finally been left to hold the reins alone for a week and I won't lie, it's terribly stressful. But I think so far I'm doing okay. There's just many things to learn and I'm lucky to have so many people to help me. But I really think an area I definitely brush up on is how to handle people and their emotions better. Think on your feet!&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Much of the week was spent interacting with my minions as well. They really are nice boys and once I've gotten them to like me and treat me as a friend, they're actually very willing to help me and do my work. But to be very honest, they are so muddle headed sometimes I feel like my eyelids are going onto overdrive with the amount of eye-rolling I have to do. I really think they switch off their brains or are just not very smart. Some of the things they ask me I'm like........right.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;So anyway I'll be away on course for 3 weeks and before I left I wrote this shit-ass long email detailing everything they need to do and every step of it. OMG. I can write my on IM. But I'm just so terrified while on course I get phone calls saying my branch is in a mess and my minions have created a big mess. Gaaaah, so worried right now.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17859163-6985228780627201234?l=neuroticsongs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17859163/posts/default/6985228780627201234'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17859163/posts/default/6985228780627201234'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://neuroticsongs.blogspot.com/2010/10/its-like-leaving-my-baby-all-alone.html' title='It&apos;s like leaving my baby ALL ALONE'/><author><name>eve</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17859163.post-1285288051506514101</id><published>2010-10-02T19:35:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2010-10-02T20:05:50.046+08:00</updated><title type='text'>And it all comes crashing down.</title><content type='html'>Spent the afternoon packing up my closet. Cause it was so ridiculously full that it was getting ridiculously hard to reach clothing I want to wear. But don't get me wrong, it's not that I have too many clothes, more like too many CCA/class/camp/FASS tees. Damnit, could have been much richer if over the years I didn't spent so much money buying them. But, even now when I have no use for them, I keep them nicely folded, stacked in their own corner of my closet because I just cannot bring myself to throw them away. No matter how detached I get, they will always mean something very special to me. :)&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;My emotions have been out of control recently. I go from sudden highs to bouts of depression that reminds me of the time in secondary school. I can hear my favourite song come up on the radio and get immensely happy, but it can all come crashing down in seconds. This has however made me realized the ease at which we can actually be happy if we focus on the good and block out the depressing. Unfortunately for me, while recently I get natural highs quite a bit, my own mind makes me so upset, to the point I'm starting to think the certain thoughts too much and of a certain dearly missed friend.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Mostly I think, its because I'm feeling so lonely. When I'm with friends I'm happy and cheerful and smiling isn't hard. I feel like I belong. But more often than not I find myself realizing I don't mean much, or enough, to anyone at all. Unconditional love and giving my ass. I'm kind of tired of not having anyone to depend on and not having anyone depend on me. Yet the thought of opening up everything about myself to someone is is highly disturbing to me. I am a selfish attention seeking whore, I don't think I'll ever love someone back if the person doesn't love me more. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I'm not even talking about wanting a romantic relationship though. It's just I'm feel so lonely sometimes.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I just wish that there is someone, anyone, who cared.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;And of course this brings me to wonder why one earth would anyone bother to care? If for 23 years no one has, clearly the problem is myself. I'm demanding bitchy, unconsciously rude. Sometimes I can be so unaware I offend people without realizing it. It's not like I can't sense it when it becomes obvious people are avoiding me and it's not like I'm not continuously trying to change and improve myself. But it seems like I am so flawed, or so bad at improving that I am the same hard to like person I was ten years back. It's not like I don't try. But much too often, effort is pointless without the obvious results to back them up.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Sometimes I just tell myself, fuck it evelyn, you're going to die a crazy cat lady with no friends, no family, only just a pet cat whom you have an en-strangled relationship with. Accept and deal.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;And now, in the spirit of being absolutely depressed, yet having a natural high, here are some songs that put a smile on my face no matter what I was feeling 5 seconds ago.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="480" height="385"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/SWik_jb6X9k?fs=1&amp;amp;hl=en_US"&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/SWik_jb6X9k?fs=1&amp;amp;hl=en_US" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="480" height="385"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="640" height="385"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/xBE0AXRx3xI?fs=1&amp;amp;hl=en_US"&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/xBE0AXRx3xI?fs=1&amp;amp;hl=en_US" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="640" height="385"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Today is my mother's birthday! Birthday dinner in a while!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17859163-1285288051506514101?l=neuroticsongs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17859163/posts/default/1285288051506514101'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17859163/posts/default/1285288051506514101'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://neuroticsongs.blogspot.com/2010/10/and-it-all-comes-crashing-down.html' title='And it all comes crashing down.'/><author><name>eve</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17859163.post-3076355097729277751</id><published>2010-09-23T16:53:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2010-09-23T17:03:25.757+08:00</updated><title type='text'>My hands are tied.</title><content type='html'>For all my bitching about my job and the retarded people I meet because of it, I do actually like my job and enjoy working. But the recent week has shown me the most frustrating thing about my job. I have to help undeserving people cover their asses by incessant nagging, but when there truly comes a case where I really want to help the person, my hands are tied. Tied by the very rules and regulations I have to enforce to help maintain a more equal system. I have of course, long realised there is no such thing as perfect equality, that there will always be subjectivity. But still it hurts to see the deserving be rejected, forgotten, be on the wrong side with lady luck.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;If nothing, this job is making me admire the tenacity of the human spirit in spite of the idiots I see as well.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17859163-3076355097729277751?l=neuroticsongs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17859163/posts/default/3076355097729277751'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17859163/posts/default/3076355097729277751'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://neuroticsongs.blogspot.com/2010/09/my-hands-are-tied.html' title='My hands are tied.'/><author><name>eve</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17859163.post-3453960473671305497</id><published>2010-09-19T11:38:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2010-09-19T11:41:50.716+08:00</updated><title type='text'>I fall ill in the most dramatic of ways.</title><content type='html'>Food poisoning has once again paid a visit to my stomach. Gaah, it was so sudden, in the morning I was running around arranging the breast cancer talk and at about 11 my stomach started feeling weird. By lunch time I couldn't even drink water, and on the cab to the doctor's I puked. I pretty much ate nothing so it was all water, still not the greatest feeling.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;But luckily it's the weekend, and I may be ill and have to cancel all my appointments but at least I get to do things like become a bona fide couch potato and watch marathons of criminal minds. One excellent thing about working, I can forget everything during the weekend. :)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17859163-3453960473671305497?l=neuroticsongs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17859163/posts/default/3453960473671305497'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17859163/posts/default/3453960473671305497'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://neuroticsongs.blogspot.com/2010/09/i-fall-ill-in-most-dramatic-of-ways.html' title='I fall ill in the most dramatic of ways.'/><author><name>eve</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17859163.post-2049088868555003675</id><published>2010-09-11T00:19:00.005+08:00</published><updated>2010-09-11T00:23:49.310+08:00</updated><title type='text'>You mourn what is lost, I, what could have been.</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_f5BHvJAZ8S0/TIpbf4bQEjI/AAAAAAAAGgU/QObPBL25zEo/s1600/IMG_9612.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_f5BHvJAZ8S0/TIpbf4bQEjI/AAAAAAAAGgU/QObPBL25zEo/s400/IMG_9612.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5515321296949350962" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;and you will always make my heart flutter in the wind&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;to bad, perhaps, it's a steel sheet.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;but it's sort of nice this feeling,&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;the wake up call to a thousand what ifs.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&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/17859163-2049088868555003675?l=neuroticsongs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17859163/posts/default/2049088868555003675'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17859163/posts/default/2049088868555003675'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://neuroticsongs.blogspot.com/2010/09/you-mourn-what-is-lost-i-what-could.html' title='You mourn what is lost, I, what could have been.'/><author><name>eve</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_f5BHvJAZ8S0/TIpbf4bQEjI/AAAAAAAAGgU/QObPBL25zEo/s72-c/IMG_9612.JPG' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17859163.post-7472036534684870273</id><published>2010-09-05T20:52:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2010-09-05T21:03:43.141+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Nothing like a good book on a Sunday afternoon.</title><content type='html'>&lt;blockquote style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;"It's hard for a man to ask a woman to marry him with an eight-foot wall of stakes and withy between them, especially if he happens to be dead at that time."&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;One fantastic result of graduating? I have learnt to love reading again. And I know I have a good book, when I forgo sleep and meal times just to finish reading the book in three days. As much as I hate cheesy love lines and romance chick flicks, I seem to see the beauty of them when in prose form.&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;blockquote style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;"I've never thought of it like that," said Christopher. "How could I? If you were any other woman, I could tell you I loved you, easily enough, but not you - because you've always seemed to me like a part of myself, and it would be like saying I loved my own eyes or my own mind. But have you ever thought of what it would be to have to live without your mind or your eyes, Kate? To be mad? Or blind?" His voice shook. "I can't talk about it. That's the way I feel."&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;blockquote style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17859163-7472036534684870273?l=neuroticsongs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17859163/posts/default/7472036534684870273'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17859163/posts/default/7472036534684870273'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://neuroticsongs.blogspot.com/2010/09/nothing-like-good-book-on-sunday.html' title='Nothing like a good book on a Sunday afternoon.'/><author><name>eve</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17859163.post-5444756774771187437</id><published>2010-09-05T11:56:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2010-09-05T11:59:04.819+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Happy smiles all around.</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_f5BHvJAZ8S0/TIMVM_4VIkI/AAAAAAAAGgM/YOyRkDRdNzk/s1600/P1040864.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_f5BHvJAZ8S0/TIMVM_4VIkI/AAAAAAAAGgM/YOyRkDRdNzk/s400/P1040864.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5513273681881932354" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;good food&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;sunshine&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;ice cream&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;and best of all,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;good company.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;makes for the perfect Saturday&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;:)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17859163-5444756774771187437?l=neuroticsongs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17859163/posts/default/5444756774771187437'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17859163/posts/default/5444756774771187437'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://neuroticsongs.blogspot.com/2010/09/happy-smiles-all-around.html' title='Happy smiles all around.'/><author><name>eve</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_f5BHvJAZ8S0/TIMVM_4VIkI/AAAAAAAAGgM/YOyRkDRdNzk/s72-c/P1040864.JPG' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17859163.post-4905488374458848207</id><published>2010-09-01T16:35:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2010-09-01T16:45:08.457+08:00</updated><title type='text'>I don't mean to.</title><content type='html'>Today the upper study is out on a visit to XXX, so basically I have nothing much to do and no one to check on me so I end up just surfing the net a lot. they don't block many websites, but oddly they do blog gmail. But apparently you can still access porn. So right okay.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyways, point is I am slowly being driven to madness with the boring lack of things to do. And I'm just sitting at my desk hoping for something to happen. The worst thing is that not five steps from my cubicle is the two nsf boys who are having a ball of a time since my upper study is out. they are basically chatting and joking and listening to music AND OMG ALL I REALLY WANT TO DO IS PULL UP A CHAIR AND JOIN THEM.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Only, the moment I step into the room, they go deathly quiet and very politely and stiffly enquire if I need their assistence. HAIYOH. And the fact remains that while I am their supervisor, they are only one and two years younger than me. WE ALL USE GOOGLE.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On a whole other issue, I really think its true that boys in NS just stop using their brain, whether in the army or police. They seem to think cubicle walls are sound proof. Like lazing around and chatting instead of doing work, I can actually hear you guys slacking you know. And when you guys relax when the other heads are not around, I can tell you know. This is sort of strange.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Not entirely sure what to feel about this. But one thing is sure, there are some lovely people around.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17859163-4905488374458848207?l=neuroticsongs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17859163/posts/default/4905488374458848207'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17859163/posts/default/4905488374458848207'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://neuroticsongs.blogspot.com/2010/09/i-dont-mean-to.html' title='I don&apos;t mean to.'/><author><name>eve</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17859163.post-8758596936520929043</id><published>2010-08-25T09:26:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2010-08-25T09:26:58.331+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Do you know what is awkward?</title><content type='html'>Awkward is when I’m not sure how to rsvp to an event that may, possibly be important for me to attend. That of which I have no idea. That of which maybe no other head will turn up, or all will and I am not. I have no idea. Awkward is needing to give a speech about TP to potential SOs when I haven’t even been here for a month so I don’t really have a clue as to what I am saying. Awkward is having to supervise and monitor things which I do not even compute. Awkward is not having anyone to talk to or lunch with because everyone is either too old or too young. Awkward is when you are standing there all awkward, you make others awkward around you as well.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Awkward is everything I am now.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17859163-8758596936520929043?l=neuroticsongs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17859163/posts/default/8758596936520929043'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17859163/posts/default/8758596936520929043'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://neuroticsongs.blogspot.com/2010/08/do-you-know-what-is-awkward.html' title='Do you know what is awkward?'/><author><name>eve</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17859163.post-4416251597220506412</id><published>2010-08-21T01:00:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2010-08-21T01:23:26.875+08:00</updated><title type='text'>O-Lu.</title><content type='html'>I have to admit, I like being an OL. I like the mundane of it all, the routine and the stability of it all. I even like the rush hour panic, the clacking of heels, the impatient waiting at doors. I like having an aim, being occupied, being needed. I like my 9-5 desk job, even if it's more like 830-6 (and in the future probably more). I like the rushing to meet friends for dinner, to feel old and sleepy at 10pm, I like this all. I like the stiff uncomfortable clothing I have to wear, the prim and properness of it all. I like wearing heels and hearing my own clacking noise. I even like the occasional bouts of loneliness in my cubicle, the awkwardness of it all. I like the bitching about work, I like the looking forward to weekends.&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;I like the normalcy of it all. I don't need an exciting interesting life. I just need this one, with my friends and family by my side. :)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17859163-4416251597220506412?l=neuroticsongs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17859163/posts/default/4416251597220506412'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17859163/posts/default/4416251597220506412'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://neuroticsongs.blogspot.com/2010/08/o-lu.html' title='O-Lu.'/><author><name>eve</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17859163.post-6717815565912976231</id><published>2010-08-16T22:56:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2010-08-16T22:58:28.211+08:00</updated><title type='text'>I would just like to point out.</title><content type='html'>That I've accepted that my job is going to be challenging, and I am not backing down from this challenge.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;The people are nice and rather friendly even though it's still all awkward. (My NSF actually spoke to me today)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I have a thousand and one things to do, but they are all interesting thousand and one things.&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;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;But sometimes, I just feel so damn lonely.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17859163-6717815565912976231?l=neuroticsongs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17859163/posts/default/6717815565912976231'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17859163/posts/default/6717815565912976231'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://neuroticsongs.blogspot.com/2010/08/i-would-just-like-to-point-out.html' title='I would just like to point out.'/><author><name>eve</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17859163.post-7023828044606772859</id><published>2010-08-12T21:50:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2010-08-12T21:58:49.829+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Can I really do this?</title><content type='html'>I've been asking myself this question so much these past three days. Day three into the job and I realize how demanding this job actually is. My upper study is so capable and good at his job, I'm so afraid I'll just screw everything up.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;It's not just getting used to acronyms and how the police force works. It's not just reading the multitude of instruction manuals and standard operation procedures. It's not just interacting with people.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;It's my first job. I have no experience whatsoever. How to write the proper emails, to whom, who else must I cc? Basic company culture, work ethics how they function, I have no experience in all this. You can't get any fresher than this.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;And yet, I have a post where I am in charge of so many things. I don't need a boss to hold my hand and spoon feed me, but I really don't think I'm ready or in a position to hold other people's hands and spoon feed them. I sincerely feel like I bit off more than I can chew this time. The entire job just seems so daunting. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;So I'm thankful for many things. Like how my 'assistants' are always willing to teach me. How everyone is so kind. How my dy commander likes me and really understands how fresh and inexperienced I am (he was the one after all, that decided on my appointment). How my upper study isn't leaving till October.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;So my learning curve is now a vertical, but I've really found a job that needs 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;I CAN DO THIS x10000000000000000000&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;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I am completely terrified of my commander now though, from all the stories I have heard.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17859163-7023828044606772859?l=neuroticsongs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17859163/posts/default/7023828044606772859'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17859163/posts/default/7023828044606772859'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://neuroticsongs.blogspot.com/2010/08/can-i-really-do-this.html' title='Can I really do this?'/><author><name>eve</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17859163.post-6356446569941916925</id><published>2010-08-09T20:14:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2010-08-09T20:15:51.464+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Oh, the irony.</title><content type='html'>I've just realized, for six years in my life, i.e. primary school, the one word which I had difficulty pronouncing every morning when we recited the pledge was the word 'democratic'.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;And now look at what I obtained a university degree in. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17859163-6356446569941916925?l=neuroticsongs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17859163/posts/default/6356446569941916925'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17859163/posts/default/6356446569941916925'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://neuroticsongs.blogspot.com/2010/08/oh-irony.html' title='Oh, the irony.'/><author><name>eve</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17859163.post-6600931997767806733</id><published>2010-08-09T10:49:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2010-08-09T10:51:13.967+08:00</updated><title type='text'>And this is what it means to be alive.</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_f5BHvJAZ8S0/TF9tBrCvWJI/AAAAAAAAGgE/LG33deOL160/s1600/rag10.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 153px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_f5BHvJAZ8S0/TF9tBrCvWJI/AAAAAAAAGgE/LG33deOL160/s400/rag10.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5503237145171548306" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17859163-6600931997767806733?l=neuroticsongs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17859163/posts/default/6600931997767806733'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17859163/posts/default/6600931997767806733'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://neuroticsongs.blogspot.com/2010/08/and-this-is-what-it-means-to-be-alive.html' title='And this is what it means to be alive.'/><author><name>eve</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_f5BHvJAZ8S0/TF9tBrCvWJI/AAAAAAAAGgE/LG33deOL160/s72-c/rag10.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17859163.post-288603825294119298</id><published>2010-08-07T22:56:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2010-08-07T22:59:42.956+08:00</updated><title type='text'>RAG'10</title><content type='html'>Even now I ponder on my commitment and attachment to a project I find so many problems with. But last night, even though I was hungry and thirsty and so sleep deprived, it was such a superb night.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;The music, the colours, the dances, the cheering, the emotions and lastly the celebrations. It felt so good, it made me want to be a student again. To be young and careless, where you give in your all, grumble about doing so, but still give more than you originally planned to anyway.&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;When I close my eyes, I can still hear the music.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17859163-288603825294119298?l=neuroticsongs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17859163/posts/default/288603825294119298'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17859163/posts/default/288603825294119298'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://neuroticsongs.blogspot.com/2010/08/rag10.html' title='RAG&apos;10'/><author><name>eve</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17859163.post-5422211800981723696</id><published>2010-08-01T19:48:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2010-08-01T19:51:59.886+08:00</updated><title type='text'>story about a man who is too afraid to fly so he never did land</title><content type='html'>What's it like to dream, to have dreams?&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;What do I want? &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;out of life.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I like to think I can be anything I want to be, when I want to be. And actually it's okay to miss a few things, because there are a billion other things for me to do. And it's okay to think I have time to waste and that I will be young forever. It's okay that ten years down I'll wonder why I never did this and that, because ten years down I would have done some other thing anyway. I guess for me right now, live like there's always a tomorrow so do what you want today. Everyday's a different day, but that's okay too.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;It's okay, and if it's not, it will be.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17859163-5422211800981723696?l=neuroticsongs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17859163/posts/default/5422211800981723696'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17859163/posts/default/5422211800981723696'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://neuroticsongs.blogspot.com/2010/08/story-about-man-who-is-too-afraid-to.html' title='story about a man who is too afraid to fly so he never did land'/><author><name>eve</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17859163.post-853825147641113376</id><published>2010-07-29T22:34:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2010-07-29T22:41:19.835+08:00</updated><title type='text'>女人长大还是要嫁</title><content type='html'>Oddly, in this past month, I've heard this line more than 4 times.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;And each time it strikes me that it's just not on my plate. Maybe five years down I'll be pinning to get married. But right now the words marriage, children, boyfriend, are just not important to me. Right now they have no value.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;It's okay, everyone has their different priorities.&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;Also, have rediscovered my love for bicycle riding. Had an awesome afternoon just speeding my way through ECP. I'm definitely going to do it again before I start working.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17859163-853825147641113376?l=neuroticsongs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17859163/posts/default/853825147641113376'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17859163/posts/default/853825147641113376'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://neuroticsongs.blogspot.com/2010/07/blog-post_29.html' title='女人长大还是要嫁'/><author><name>eve</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17859163.post-6233696839622170228</id><published>2010-07-25T22:35:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2010-07-25T22:39:36.720+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Run away with me to the place of dreams.</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_f5BHvJAZ8S0/TExMNNsEE_I/AAAAAAAAGf8/diifPuHMo9M/s1600/IMG_8697.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_f5BHvJAZ8S0/TExMNNsEE_I/AAAAAAAAGf8/diifPuHMo9M/s400/IMG_8697.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5497853035009020914" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&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;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;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;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;If I could, I would wish for all my friends to forever have something to smile about. Because it brightens my day to see them smile. Smile like the wind can take you away.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;One day, it will be a beautiful day again.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17859163-6233696839622170228?l=neuroticsongs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17859163/posts/default/6233696839622170228'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17859163/posts/default/6233696839622170228'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://neuroticsongs.blogspot.com/2010/07/run-away-with-me-to-place-of-dreams.html' title='Run away with me to the place of dreams.'/><author><name>eve</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_f5BHvJAZ8S0/TExMNNsEE_I/AAAAAAAAGf8/diifPuHMo9M/s72-c/IMG_8697.JPG' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17859163.post-9099671840296163394</id><published>2010-07-21T19:56:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2010-07-21T20:06:42.657+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Japan is really pretty. No, really.</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_f5BHvJAZ8S0/TEbhlL6Gq_I/AAAAAAAAGf0/j-9gDnxfi4A/s1600/P1040378.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_f5BHvJAZ8S0/TEbhlL6Gq_I/AAAAAAAAGf0/j-9gDnxfi4A/s400/P1040378.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5496328424220175346" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Flowers are my point here, but there is no harm in starting the post with a nyaan-chan.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_f5BHvJAZ8S0/TEbhkaScF3I/AAAAAAAAGfs/unndNaUTu2E/s1600/P1040529.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_f5BHvJAZ8S0/TEbhkaScF3I/AAAAAAAAGfs/unndNaUTu2E/s400/P1040529.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5496328410900469618" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;These pretty babies be the size of my palm. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_f5BHvJAZ8S0/TEbhjwFfrzI/AAAAAAAAGfk/oXEWGjX5nT0/s1600/P1040511.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_f5BHvJAZ8S0/TEbhjwFfrzI/AAAAAAAAGfk/oXEWGjX5nT0/s400/P1040511.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5496328399571889970" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;A handfull of Shibu Sakura, Sakura that grows on the grown. Quite possibly my favourite flower.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_f5BHvJAZ8S0/TEbhjb1hhNI/AAAAAAAAGfc/36rOrK8cTBc/s1600/P1040524.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_f5BHvJAZ8S0/TEbhjb1hhNI/AAAAAAAAGfc/36rOrK8cTBc/s400/P1040524.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5496328394136192210" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Pretty things which look like blue Shiba Sakura (which to my knowledge exists in white pink and purple). &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_f5BHvJAZ8S0/TEbhi03Yl7I/AAAAAAAAGfU/A5uEOskWFiQ/s1600/P1030257.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_f5BHvJAZ8S0/TEbhi03Yl7I/AAAAAAAAGfU/A5uEOskWFiQ/s400/P1030257.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5496328383675013042" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;A field of purple Shiba Sakura. It's like a dream.&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/17859163-9099671840296163394?l=neuroticsongs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17859163/posts/default/9099671840296163394'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17859163/posts/default/9099671840296163394'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://neuroticsongs.blogspot.com/2010/07/japan-is-really-pretty-no-really.html' title='Japan is really pretty. No, really.'/><author><name>eve</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_f5BHvJAZ8S0/TEbhlL6Gq_I/AAAAAAAAGf0/j-9gDnxfi4A/s72-c/P1040378.JPG' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17859163.post-7396763490292942128</id><published>2010-07-20T16:16:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2010-07-20T16:16:38.923+08:00</updated><title type='text'>okay okay.</title><content type='html'>eventually I will be okay.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;:)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17859163-7396763490292942128?l=neuroticsongs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17859163/posts/default/7396763490292942128'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17859163/posts/default/7396763490292942128'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://neuroticsongs.blogspot.com/2010/07/okay-okay.html' title='okay okay.'/><author><name>eve</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17859163.post-4745783797114182663</id><published>2010-07-20T12:21:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2010-07-20T12:22:05.708+08:00</updated><title type='text'>unless you count being a failure as one thing.</title><content type='html'>failure.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17859163-4745783797114182663?l=neuroticsongs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17859163/posts/default/4745783797114182663'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17859163/posts/default/4745783797114182663'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://neuroticsongs.blogspot.com/2010/07/unless-you-count-being-failure-as-one.html' title='unless you count being a failure as one thing.'/><author><name>eve</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17859163.post-4598559050400571272</id><published>2010-07-20T01:20:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2010-07-20T01:21:08.974+08:00</updated><title type='text'>-</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large; "&gt;&lt;b&gt;NOTHING IS HAPPENING IN MY LIFE.&lt;/b&gt;&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&gt;till then, stay awesome.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17859163-4598559050400571272?l=neuroticsongs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17859163/posts/default/4598559050400571272'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17859163/posts/default/4598559050400571272'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://neuroticsongs.blogspot.com/2010/07/blog-post.html' title='-'/><author><name>eve</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17859163.post-1479000562048712821</id><published>2010-07-15T21:01:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2010-07-15T21:02:39.304+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Advertisement fail.</title><content type='html'>This company is looking for a reporter.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;"&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="  color: rgb(109, 110, 113); font-family:verdana;font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="jobRESH"&gt;Requirements:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="  color: rgb(109, 110, 113); font-family:verdana;font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;Degree in business/banking/journalism/mass communication with one to two years working experience.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Fresh graduates are encouraged to apply. &lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yes I can see they really need someone who can check facts and statements.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17859163-1479000562048712821?l=neuroticsongs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17859163/posts/default/1479000562048712821'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17859163/posts/default/1479000562048712821'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://neuroticsongs.blogspot.com/2010/07/advertisement-fail.html' title='Advertisement fail.'/><author><name>eve</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17859163.post-5808714122542493963</id><published>2010-07-11T12:27:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2010-07-11T12:32:40.631+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_f5BHvJAZ8S0/TDlIbJNA2wI/AAAAAAAAGfM/44DV0Jq9qA0/s1600/P1040718.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_f5BHvJAZ8S0/TDlIbJNA2wI/AAAAAAAAGfM/44DV0Jq9qA0/s400/P1040718.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5492500851719199490" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;happy happy happy!&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;a few things.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;1. stood right at the back with no pushing and screaming fangirls and plenty of nice air&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;2. still managed to get a good view of them&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;3. and their voices! (i highly suspect only 2 of them were singing life and for some parts only)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;4. Jinwoon's voice cracked somewhere, oh that smile.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;5. my camera is super awesome, 18X zoom and HD recording.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;6. I now have fancams.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;7. 凌晨两点&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;8. It was good to feel young again.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17859163-5808714122542493963?l=neuroticsongs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17859163/posts/default/5808714122542493963'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17859163/posts/default/5808714122542493963'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://neuroticsongs.blogspot.com/2010/07/happy-happy-happy-few-things.html' title=''/><author><name>eve</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_f5BHvJAZ8S0/TDlIbJNA2wI/AAAAAAAAGfM/44DV0Jq9qA0/s72-c/P1040718.JPG' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17859163.post-665874685458035040</id><published>2010-07-03T22:40:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2010-07-03T22:41:04.030+08:00</updated><title type='text'>What does it mean to be blood relatives?</title><content type='html'>Yes, I am being selfish.&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;To be honest I don't know you and don't know me.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17859163-665874685458035040?l=neuroticsongs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17859163/posts/default/665874685458035040'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17859163/posts/default/665874685458035040'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://neuroticsongs.blogspot.com/2010/07/what-does-it-mean-to-be-blood-relatives.html' title='What does it mean to be blood relatives?'/><author><name>eve</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17859163.post-294562087474875210</id><published>2010-07-01T22:37:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2010-07-01T22:47:00.802+08:00</updated><title type='text'>The kids of tomorrow do not stand a chance.</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11px; color: rgb(51, 51, 51); "&gt;&lt;h3 class="UIIntentionalStory_Message" ft="{&amp;quot;type&amp;quot;:&amp;quot;msg&amp;quot;}" style="text-align: center;font-size: 13px; color: rgb(51, 51, 51); margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; font-weight: normal; overflow-x: hidden; overflow-y: hidden; "&gt;&lt;span class="UIStory_Message"&gt;"Harry Potter is all about confronting fears, finding inner strength and doing what is right in the face of adversity...Twilight is about how important it is to have a boyfriend."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/h3&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;- Andrew Futral&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="UIStory_Message"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="UIStory_Message"&gt;All my friends know this. I hate the Twilight series so much. The movies are bad and the books are the worst thing of print history. It has no plot, 2D flat characters and the writing is atrocious. I'm not being a grammar nazi or book snob here, but it's a really bad book. And I have tried reading it. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="UIStory_Message"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="UIStory_Message"&gt;I guess I'm at the age where I wonder about having kids. And if I ever become a mother (however unlikely XD) I wonder about how I'll bring my kids up. At this point in my life, I can see clearly how my mother has damaged me, but has also shaped me to whatever I am now, the parts I'm ashamed and proud off. It kills me to think that my kids may end up reading Twilight instead of books with actual proper writing.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="UIStory_Message"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="UIStory_Message"&gt;Reading was a large part of my childhood and till this day I love to read. I love losing myself in a good book, anytime, even today. It pains me that some people will grow up not knowing the best most simple books but know the entire cast of Twilight and how much hairspray the Robert P guy has. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="UIStory_Message"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="UIStory_Message"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="UIStory_Message"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="UIStory_Message"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; border-collapse: collapse; font-style: italic; line-height: 19px; -webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 2px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 2px; "&gt;"I live in two worlds. One is a world of books. I've been a resident of Faulkner's Yoknapatawpha County, hunted the white whale aboard the Pequod, fought alongside Napoleon, sailed a raft with Huck and Jim, committed absurdities with Ignatius J. Reilly, rode a sad train with Anna Karenina, and strolled down Swann's Way. It's a rewarding world, but my second one is by far superior. My second one is populated with characters slightly less eccentric but supremely real, made of flesh and bone, full of love, who are my ultimate inspiration for everything." &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span class="UIStory_Message"&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; border-collapse: collapse; font-style: italic; line-height: 19px; -webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 2px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 2px; "&gt;- &lt;strong class="highlight" style="font-weight: normal; background-color: rgb(254, 250, 189); "&gt;Rory&lt;/strong&gt;'s valedictorian speech, "Those Are Strings, Pinocchio"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; line-height: 19px; -webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 2px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 2px;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17859163-294562087474875210?l=neuroticsongs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17859163/posts/default/294562087474875210'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17859163/posts/default/294562087474875210'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://neuroticsongs.blogspot.com/2010/07/kids-of-tomorrow-do-not-stand-chance.html' title='The kids of tomorrow do not stand a chance.'/><author><name>eve</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17859163.post-694752475356521853</id><published>2010-06-29T02:55:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2010-06-29T02:56:44.761+08:00</updated><title type='text'>It makes me want to love somebody.</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_f5BHvJAZ8S0/TCjwRNxZ3hI/AAAAAAAAGfE/6g0tOHMfcK8/s1600/P1010492.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_f5BHvJAZ8S0/TCjwRNxZ3hI/AAAAAAAAGfE/6g0tOHMfcK8/s400/P1010492.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5487900324496268818" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&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;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;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;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;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Sometimes I wonder what it's like, to buy dinner for two.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17859163-694752475356521853?l=neuroticsongs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17859163/posts/default/694752475356521853'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17859163/posts/default/694752475356521853'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://neuroticsongs.blogspot.com/2010/06/it-makes-me-want-to-love-somebody.html' title='It makes me want to love somebody.'/><author><name>eve</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_f5BHvJAZ8S0/TCjwRNxZ3hI/AAAAAAAAGfE/6g0tOHMfcK8/s72-c/P1010492.JPG' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17859163.post-7260747625412596577</id><published>2010-06-25T18:21:00.004+08:00</published><updated>2010-06-25T18:25:19.182+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Take my hand.</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_f5BHvJAZ8S0/TCSDORI08II/AAAAAAAAGe8/I7nqqw9Mm9A/s1600/IMG_8825.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_f5BHvJAZ8S0/TCSDORI08II/AAAAAAAAGe8/I7nqqw9Mm9A/s400/IMG_8825.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5486654527185940610" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt;   &lt;/span&gt;Let's travel the world. Pretend to have no worries.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt;   &lt;/span&gt;We'll walk down the avenue and take two lefts.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt;   &lt;/span&gt;Forget that there's a path, that leads us back.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt;   &lt;/span&gt;Go on, be young.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt;   &lt;/span&gt;We could go on forever, if only you wanted to. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt;   &lt;/span&gt;There's nothing to consider, just where to take the next step.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt;   &lt;/span&gt;Blink and miss the sunset, but it's okay, there's always another day.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17859163-7260747625412596577?l=neuroticsongs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17859163/posts/default/7260747625412596577'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17859163/posts/default/7260747625412596577'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://neuroticsongs.blogspot.com/2010/06/take-my-hand.html' title='Take my hand.'/><author><name>eve</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_f5BHvJAZ8S0/TCSDORI08II/AAAAAAAAGe8/I7nqqw9Mm9A/s72-c/IMG_8825.JPG' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17859163.post-3929362598278780038</id><published>2010-06-22T02:21:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2010-06-22T02:23:51.148+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Today I learned a few things.</title><content type='html'>1. There will always be weird people.&lt;div&gt;2. You appear weird to many others as well.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;3. I am not as bitchy as I think.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;4. At least not as gossipy.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;5. Good times at a good cafe.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;6. I have friends for life. :)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;7. You can find joy in the simplest of things.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;8. And at the same, the most cruel and heart breaking.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;9. What can never be will not be.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;10. Let go.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17859163-3929362598278780038?l=neuroticsongs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17859163/posts/default/3929362598278780038'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17859163/posts/default/3929362598278780038'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://neuroticsongs.blogspot.com/2010/06/today-i-learned-few-things.html' title='Today I learned a few things.'/><author><name>eve</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17859163.post-9046771149939123148</id><published>2010-06-16T00:13:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2010-06-16T00:16:01.812+08:00</updated><title type='text'>FML so hard.</title><content type='html'>Today I slipped on a puddle of mud. And FELL into the same god damned puddle of mud.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;My jeans and my bag was covered WITH A LAYER OF MUD. Like super gross can?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;ewwewwwewww. Had to walk to the nearest toilet near LT11 to wash everything away. DAMN GROSS and troublesome. And now my bag smells like soil. Earthy kind of smell. Not smelly or foul....just really earthy.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Mud also dries up surprisingly fast.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Camy and I have come to the conclusion that we are honest people, we designate bitchy to other more deserving people.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17859163-9046771149939123148?l=neuroticsongs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17859163/posts/default/9046771149939123148'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17859163/posts/default/9046771149939123148'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://neuroticsongs.blogspot.com/2010/06/fml-so-hard.html' title='FML so hard.'/><author><name>eve</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17859163.post-958255534410774088</id><published>2010-06-14T14:07:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2010-06-14T14:08:22.467+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Used to.</title><content type='html'>I used to make my parents so proud.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;For the last 6 years all I've felt like is a failure.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17859163-958255534410774088?l=neuroticsongs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17859163/posts/default/958255534410774088'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17859163/posts/default/958255534410774088'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://neuroticsongs.blogspot.com/2010/06/used-to.html' title='Used to.'/><author><name>eve</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17859163.post-7487078345467397948</id><published>2010-06-13T15:19:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2010-06-13T15:21:00.852+08:00</updated><title type='text'>I must be really hard to like.</title><content type='html'>I feel like no lover, friend or family can truly understand and like me.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Or care enough to.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17859163-7487078345467397948?l=neuroticsongs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17859163/posts/default/7487078345467397948'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17859163/posts/default/7487078345467397948'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://neuroticsongs.blogspot.com/2010/06/i-must-be-really-hard-to-like.html' title='I must be really hard to like.'/><author><name>eve</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17859163.post-5849287986422422039</id><published>2010-06-11T03:07:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2010-06-11T03:11:43.220+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Ego booster.</title><content type='html'>Job hunting is depressing and tiring. &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;So I need an ego booster, and this is what I remember.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;At the start of the last semester in NUS, bear and I had a tutorial to facilitate. Which you know, sounds pretty easy, except its a level four module. So a few things.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;1. The damn thing was supposed to last 3 hrs. THREE WHOLE HOURS&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;2. I like my professor and would love to impress him. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;3. Partly cause while being nice and encouraging, he's also a very fair marker = would not hesitate to give you a C.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;4. Module mates are pretty smart too.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;5. I JUST WANT TO IMPRESS AND FEED MY OWN EGO LIKE I AM DOING NOW OKAY?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Point was, we stressed about it and worked on it and read up and came up with stuff and at the end emobrand asked the class to applause the 'fearless leaders'.&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;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;FEARLESS LEADERS&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&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;Okay, back to resumes. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17859163-5849287986422422039?l=neuroticsongs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17859163/posts/default/5849287986422422039'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17859163/posts/default/5849287986422422039'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://neuroticsongs.blogspot.com/2010/06/ego-booster.html' title='Ego booster.'/><author><name>eve</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17859163.post-543536817632517992</id><published>2010-06-05T21:08:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2010-06-05T21:11:46.222+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Sometimes glass glitters more than diamonds because it has more to prove.</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_f5BHvJAZ8S0/TApMiJfY3ZI/AAAAAAAAGes/mdfawRan7Bg/s1600/discworld.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 286px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_f5BHvJAZ8S0/TApMiJfY3ZI/AAAAAAAAGes/mdfawRan7Bg/s400/discworld.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5479276046196465042" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I am so glad I am slowly but surely rediscovering my love for reading good books.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17859163-543536817632517992?l=neuroticsongs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17859163/posts/default/543536817632517992'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17859163/posts/default/543536817632517992'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://neuroticsongs.blogspot.com/2010/06/sometimes-glass-glitters-more-than.html' title='Sometimes glass glitters more than diamonds because it has more to prove.'/><author><name>eve</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_f5BHvJAZ8S0/TApMiJfY3ZI/AAAAAAAAGes/mdfawRan7Bg/s72-c/discworld.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17859163.post-6047120231572189074</id><published>2010-05-31T23:53:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2010-05-31T23:55:32.960+08:00</updated><title type='text'>:):):)</title><content type='html'>I don't think I've ever felt so happy for other people in my entire life. Today my happiness is built on other people, and what an excellent feeling it is. :)&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Congratulations my friends!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17859163-6047120231572189074?l=neuroticsongs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17859163/posts/default/6047120231572189074'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17859163/posts/default/6047120231572189074'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://neuroticsongs.blogspot.com/2010/05/blog-post.html' title=':):):)'/><author><name>eve</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17859163.post-3121549770867133701</id><published>2010-05-29T03:08:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2010-05-29T03:14:35.749+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Heels, they don't get less painful, you get more tolerant.</title><content type='html'>My love for shoes is pretty much the only common thing I have with SJP's character in SATC. Watched the 2nd movie with the usuals today. OMG 10 bucks full of cheesy lines and bad puns.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Samantha was all good tho. XD&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Good that I met up with friends just a day after coming back from land of rising sun. noranekos, handsome rickshaw drivers and awesome food. The past 2 and a half weeks have me really considering going to Japan for work. I do want to take up the language and the lifestyle there really suits the cat in me.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;It does mean I have something to look forward to.&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;I am unrationally nervous about monday.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17859163-3121549770867133701?l=neuroticsongs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17859163/posts/default/3121549770867133701'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17859163/posts/default/3121549770867133701'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://neuroticsongs.blogspot.com/2010/05/heels-they-dont-get-less-painful-you.html' title='Heels, they don&apos;t get less painful, you get more tolerant.'/><author><name>eve</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17859163.post-5083741656869044626</id><published>2010-05-10T15:25:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2010-05-10T15:26:21.161+08:00</updated><title type='text'>I'm coming back.</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_f5BHvJAZ8S0/S-e1B7CIvoI/AAAAAAAAGeg/-H7zlx7z8jQ/s1600/Picture+261.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_f5BHvJAZ8S0/S-e1B7CIvoI/AAAAAAAAGeg/-H7zlx7z8jQ/s400/Picture+261.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5469539317095906946" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;So excited you have no idea. :):):)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17859163-5083741656869044626?l=neuroticsongs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17859163/posts/default/5083741656869044626'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17859163/posts/default/5083741656869044626'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://neuroticsongs.blogspot.com/2010/05/im-coming-back.html' title='I&apos;m coming back.'/><author><name>eve</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_f5BHvJAZ8S0/S-e1B7CIvoI/AAAAAAAAGeg/-H7zlx7z8jQ/s72-c/Picture+261.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17859163.post-2175991229484213782</id><published>2010-05-09T15:16:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2010-05-09T15:20:08.484+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Family.</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_f5BHvJAZ8S0/S-Zhq5N5hxI/AAAAAAAAGeA/bqu6677AVpw/s1600/P1010190.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 225px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_f5BHvJAZ8S0/S-Zhq5N5hxI/AAAAAAAAGeA/bqu6677AVpw/s400/P1010190.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5469166187029563154" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Today, after so many years, I found my mum cute again.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;We're not close, but in my own way, I do love my family. I can't imagine not.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17859163-2175991229484213782?l=neuroticsongs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17859163/posts/default/2175991229484213782'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17859163/posts/default/2175991229484213782'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://neuroticsongs.blogspot.com/2010/05/family.html' title='Family.'/><author><name>eve</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_f5BHvJAZ8S0/S-Zhq5N5hxI/AAAAAAAAGeA/bqu6677AVpw/s72-c/P1010190.JPG' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17859163.post-4352078943946635340</id><published>2010-05-07T00:52:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2010-05-07T00:57:23.170+08:00</updated><title type='text'>And that, was that.</title><content type='html'>At the end of it all. I didn't know whether to shout in joy, scream for unemployment, or cry.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I think I was pretty close to crying. That this will never be again.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Perhaps it hasn't sank in. Perhaps I need a week or two. By that time I'll be in Japan.&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;Or I just really need to clear my sleep debt first.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17859163-4352078943946635340?l=neuroticsongs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17859163/posts/default/4352078943946635340'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17859163/posts/default/4352078943946635340'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://neuroticsongs.blogspot.com/2010/05/and-that-was-that.html' title='And that, was that.'/><author><name>eve</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17859163.post-2243694237347382242</id><published>2010-05-02T21:52:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2010-05-02T21:56:46.471+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Panda.</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_f5BHvJAZ8S0/S92D6APIHRI/AAAAAAAAGd4/kX2D57fjy24/s1600/P1020679.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 225px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_f5BHvJAZ8S0/S92D6APIHRI/AAAAAAAAGd4/kX2D57fjy24/s400/P1020679.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5466670555216747794" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_f5BHvJAZ8S0/S92D53lrw5I/AAAAAAAAGdw/DARRTKz1cVA/s1600/P1020678.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 225px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_f5BHvJAZ8S0/S92D53lrw5I/AAAAAAAAGdw/DARRTKz1cVA/s400/P1020678.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5466670552895439762" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&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;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;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;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;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;we gave this panda to tk. saw it together and decided it on the spot. I like being this efficient.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I will miss wasting time, spending it aimlessly. Walking around talking about nothing and everything. When we still had dreams. Uncertainty wasn't so scary, we could afford to be oblivious. But if you ask me for another round of this, &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;...sorry, growing up has reached.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17859163-2243694237347382242?l=neuroticsongs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17859163/posts/default/2243694237347382242'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17859163/posts/default/2243694237347382242'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://neuroticsongs.blogspot.com/2010/05/panda.html' title='Panda.'/><author><name>eve</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_f5BHvJAZ8S0/S92D6APIHRI/AAAAAAAAGd4/kX2D57fjy24/s72-c/P1020679.JPG' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17859163.post-57015532752965223</id><published>2010-04-25T02:27:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2010-04-25T02:33:38.890+08:00</updated><title type='text'>This is study Evelyn</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_f5BHvJAZ8S0/S9M5UaZthAI/AAAAAAAAGdo/MWH-AiPraEQ/s1600/image201004250001.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_f5BHvJAZ8S0/S9M5UaZthAI/AAAAAAAAGdo/MWH-AiPraEQ/s400/image201004250001.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5463773795777872898" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&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;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;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;or at least trying to study Evelyn. A+ for effort. F for results.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Yay me. D:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17859163-57015532752965223?l=neuroticsongs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17859163/posts/default/57015532752965223'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17859163/posts/default/57015532752965223'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://neuroticsongs.blogspot.com/2010/04/this-is-study-evelyn.html' title='This is study Evelyn'/><author><name>eve</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_f5BHvJAZ8S0/S9M5UaZthAI/AAAAAAAAGdo/MWH-AiPraEQ/s72-c/image201004250001.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17859163.post-3387682021348976933</id><published>2010-04-24T03:37:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2010-04-24T03:39:12.485+08:00</updated><title type='text'>What do I want.</title><content type='html'>If there was one thing I took away from today's complete failure of an interview, it's that more and more I feel I am not suited for a government job.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;3 months later this statement might bite me in the ass. But as I looked at the directors that interview me today, I asked myself, 10 years down, do I want their job? Would I be able to climb that high? Do I want to be them?&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;No.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17859163-3387682021348976933?l=neuroticsongs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17859163/posts/default/3387682021348976933'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17859163/posts/default/3387682021348976933'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://neuroticsongs.blogspot.com/2010/04/what-do-i-want.html' title='What do I want.'/><author><name>eve</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17859163.post-2448716852495839129</id><published>2010-04-21T16:20:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2010-04-21T16:37:17.675+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Oh FRIED FOOD.</title><content type='html'>I think if I ever ever go on a real detox, it'll result in a complete failure.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;It's day four of a virus induced detox (ie damn food poisoning) and I am craving fried food like mad. Especially sinful delicious fried chicken. oh god.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;but my stomach literally trembles and shakes with the thought of putting anything greasy into it.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;so. the point is. If I ever go on detox, I'll just ruin all the effort by gorging in sinful fried stuff after that. Then it's completely useless right?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Also, since I can't stomach all the greasy food, I've been craving all the high carb foods. Like waffles, and cakes and oreos AND THANKS AH CAMY, POST RAINBOW PANCAKES ON MY FB. I don't even usually like pancakes. Now I'm craving them like I crave chocolate.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Glorious glorious nutella. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;not that I can stomach them either.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Aish. Such is life.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Like how I have another interview on Friday for a job I have not much idea on. And from what I can read on the website....I don't want it.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;It's not like beggars can be choosers. But if I get stuck in a dead end job that technically pays enough to feed one mouth, the only drawback is seeing my parents face going all =| in an effort to not be all D: For some reason my Dad has high hopes for me, partly cause of his own hard climb to where he is today (earning a figure enough for me to muddle through life so far) and partly cause my brother is pretty much a lost case. Disappointment for me comes with not being able to make my parents happy, for not living up to their expectations. And its not like the pressure me into thinking this way. Hell, if he could I think my Dad would willingly let me bum my way through life forever. But it's time to give back Evelyn. The future is so uncertain right now. So full of opportunities, of success and failure.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I really hate feeling like a complete failure.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17859163-2448716852495839129?l=neuroticsongs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17859163/posts/default/2448716852495839129'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17859163/posts/default/2448716852495839129'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://neuroticsongs.blogspot.com/2010/04/oh-fried-food.html' title='Oh FRIED FOOD.'/><author><name>eve</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17859163.post-8988611259568855469</id><published>2010-04-20T13:54:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2010-04-20T13:57:57.522+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Fuck this.</title><content type='html'>It's always been like this.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I feel shit right now and it's not even self pity. I can barely get out of bed and you know it.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Or you would know it if you bother to care. If you bothered to call, if you bothered to pick up the damn phone to even text me. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Half the time you don't bother. I'm fucking tired of doing the chasing. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;But three days later I'll be at it again. It'll be nice to actually hear a word of concern.&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;Sometimes I think you enjoy me chasing you, then offering scraps of attention to this attention seeking whore.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;That's all I am to you anyway.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17859163-8988611259568855469?l=neuroticsongs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17859163/posts/default/8988611259568855469'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17859163/posts/default/8988611259568855469'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://neuroticsongs.blogspot.com/2010/04/fuck-this.html' title='Fuck this.'/><author><name>eve</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17859163.post-3769855063624030777</id><published>2010-04-16T23:40:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2010-04-16T23:49:55.160+08:00</updated><title type='text'>This is the week, I lived it like I have a hundred more.</title><content type='html'>The problem with being caught up with the 'finality' of things, you start to regret not doing more of this and that, you reminisce before you've even left. You miss out just being.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;So I lived this final week 13, like I still have another semester left. I went out, went to school. Ate good food, ate school food. I studied, did last minute work. Took dozens of photos, looked a places I would have taken photos.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;YingLing.Cherie.Rome.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Juan.Nails.Shoe.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Bear.Laksa.emobrand.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;tkmummy.Biz.Rats.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Gown.Review.Sushi.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Cameras.ohsixers.smiles.laughter.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;红豆冰.ahniuface.awesomecherie.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Helen.Rings.Food.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Awesome week everybody.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;And now it's time for something new.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17859163-3769855063624030777?l=neuroticsongs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17859163/posts/default/3769855063624030777'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17859163/posts/default/3769855063624030777'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://neuroticsongs.blogspot.com/2010/04/this-is-week-i-lived-it-like-i-have.html' title='This is the week, I lived it like I have a hundred more.'/><author><name>eve</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17859163.post-6769398619579738215</id><published>2010-04-05T14:52:00.004+08:00</published><updated>2010-04-05T14:59:36.227+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Hell Week</title><content type='html'>&lt;ol&gt;&lt;li&gt;I guess I'm lucky enough that I really only have one hell week this final semester.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Already began on Sat, with the terrible flu. Left with only the running nose to deal with.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;First job interview was a panel interview. COMPLETELY unprepared, but it could have been worse. I think. oh whatever, at least I won't be as nervous at other interviews.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;At least I got to meet up with XH for an awesome lunch!&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;ESSAYS. Deadlines hanging over my head.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Can't wait for week13, more plans to hang out rather than study.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Exams are the last thing on my mind right now. Funny.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Japan trip shaping up! EXCITINGS&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Using the iPhone. Not as user friendly as everyone things. Kept pressing the wrong keys.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;But am now super connected in terms of tweet tweet and fb. LOL. Ms Chan and I, we be super fast in replying.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Seeing Hock's europe photos on fb makes me miss europe so so so much. &lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;It's not just the sights and sounds, but the travelling and the journey. So much to see and learn.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ol&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_f5BHvJAZ8S0/S7mKETslOtI/AAAAAAAAGdg/nQDd1j2chCI/s1600/IMG_8739.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_f5BHvJAZ8S0/S7mKETslOtI/AAAAAAAAGdg/nQDd1j2chCI/s400/IMG_8739.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5456544230147439314" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17859163-6769398619579738215?l=neuroticsongs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17859163/posts/default/6769398619579738215'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17859163/posts/default/6769398619579738215'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://neuroticsongs.blogspot.com/2010/04/hell-week.html' title='Hell Week'/><author><name>eve</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_f5BHvJAZ8S0/S7mKETslOtI/AAAAAAAAGdg/nQDd1j2chCI/s72-c/IMG_8739.JPG' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17859163.post-8269166399945365904</id><published>2010-04-02T03:11:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2010-04-02T03:12:25.961+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Don't waste words.</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small; "&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;In an effort to get people to look&lt;br /&gt;into each other’s eyes more,&lt;br /&gt;and also to appease the mutes,&lt;br /&gt;the government has decided&lt;br /&gt;to allot each person exactly one hundred&lt;br /&gt;and sixty-seven words, per day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When the phone rings, I put it to my ear&lt;br /&gt;without saying hello. In the restaurant&lt;br /&gt;I point at chicken noodle soup.&lt;br /&gt;I am adjusting well to the new way.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Late at night, I call my long distance lover,&lt;br /&gt;proudly say I only used fifty-nine today.&lt;br /&gt;I saved the rest for you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When she doesn’t respond,&lt;br /&gt;I know she’s used up all her words,&lt;br /&gt;so I slowly whisper I love you&lt;br /&gt;thirty-two and a third times.&lt;br /&gt;After that, we just sit on the line&lt;br /&gt;and listen to each other breathe.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- The Quiet World, Jeffrey McDaniel &lt;/span&gt;–&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17859163-8269166399945365904?l=neuroticsongs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17859163/posts/default/8269166399945365904'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17859163/posts/default/8269166399945365904'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://neuroticsongs.blogspot.com/2010/04/dont-waste-words.html' title='Don&apos;t waste words.'/><author><name>eve</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17859163.post-4616638032234859150</id><published>2010-03-27T00:17:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2010-03-27T00:20:19.523+08:00</updated><title type='text'>My Tattoo will look like this.</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_f5BHvJAZ8S0/S6zeY2VAqvI/AAAAAAAAGdY/crPPBqQLY-A/s1600/IMG_9938.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_f5BHvJAZ8S0/S6zeY2VAqvI/AAAAAAAAGdY/crPPBqQLY-A/s400/IMG_9938.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5452977767320693490" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&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;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;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;I'm serious. If I ever get a tattoo, I want it to looks as childish as this. If I were a guy, I'll get it on the underside of my forearm. Seeing as I am a girl.....maybe on my upper arm. I hardly wear sleeveless clothings anyway. :):):)&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/17859163-4616638032234859150?l=neuroticsongs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17859163/posts/default/4616638032234859150'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17859163/posts/default/4616638032234859150'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://neuroticsongs.blogspot.com/2010/03/my-tattoo-will-look-like-this.html' title='My Tattoo will look like this.'/><author><name>eve</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_f5BHvJAZ8S0/S6zeY2VAqvI/AAAAAAAAGdY/crPPBqQLY-A/s72-c/IMG_9938.JPG' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17859163.post-7968615318753192344</id><published>2010-03-26T01:34:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2010-03-26T01:35:11.653+08:00</updated><title type='text'>If this was Twilight...</title><content type='html'>&lt;img src="http://i38.tinypic.com/n89jd.jpg" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I would read every book, watch every movie.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17859163-7968615318753192344?l=neuroticsongs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17859163/posts/default/7968615318753192344'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17859163/posts/default/7968615318753192344'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://neuroticsongs.blogspot.com/2010/03/untitled.html' title='If this was Twilight...'/><author><name>eve</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://i38.tinypic.com/n89jd_th.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17859163.post-1045576306849227333</id><published>2010-03-24T01:58:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2010-03-24T02:03:11.839+08:00</updated><title type='text'>I swear I am not a feminist.</title><content type='html'>&lt;object width="425" height="385"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/KVGZjhPtxhY&amp;amp;rel=0&amp;amp;color1=0xb1b1b1&amp;amp;color2=0xcfcfcf&amp;amp;hl=en_US&amp;amp;feature=player_embedded&amp;amp;fs=1"&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="allowScriptAccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/KVGZjhPtxhY&amp;amp;rel=0&amp;amp;color1=0xb1b1b1&amp;amp;color2=0xcfcfcf&amp;amp;hl=en_US&amp;amp;feature=player_embedded&amp;amp;fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowfullscreen="true" allowscriptaccess="always" width="425" height="385"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But you know, good song is good song. Brings me back to the days of CSS, of not just S.H.E. but Energy, 5566, when Jay and Sun Yan Zi ruled cpop. Oh nostalgia. Also, skyped Fidz and her FIANCÉ. Exciting much? Going to be looking out for green dresses from now on. I have never been so happy and excited to go shopping! Hahas. Met Carissa in school today, apparently she has seen MEI LING alive. I look forward to Sat. This is turning out to be GOOD WEEK.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17859163-1045576306849227333?l=neuroticsongs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17859163/posts/default/1045576306849227333'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17859163/posts/default/1045576306849227333'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://neuroticsongs.blogspot.com/2010/03/i-swear-i-am-not-feminist.html' title='I swear I am not a feminist.'/><author><name>eve</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17859163.post-3174747127983797556</id><published>2010-03-18T11:29:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2010-03-18T11:30:52.090+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Who I defend, I do not love.</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;object width="480" height="385"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/QTNbZDSWkuI&amp;amp;hl=en_US&amp;amp;fs=1&amp;amp;"&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/QTNbZDSWkuI&amp;amp;hl=en_US&amp;amp;fs=1&amp;amp;" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="480" height="385"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This accompanied me through my 7k. Love it. Take a listen.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, Helvetica, Arial; font-size: 11px; "&gt;I wake up, it's a bad dream,&lt;br /&gt;No one on my side,&lt;br /&gt;I was fighting&lt;br /&gt;But I just feel too tired&lt;br /&gt;to be fighting,&lt;br /&gt;guess I'm not the fighting kind.&lt;br /&gt;Wouldn't mind it&lt;br /&gt;if you were by my side&lt;br /&gt;But you're long gone,&lt;br /&gt;yeah you're long gone now.&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/17859163-3174747127983797556?l=neuroticsongs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17859163/posts/default/3174747127983797556'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17859163/posts/default/3174747127983797556'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://neuroticsongs.blogspot.com/2010/03/who-i-defend-i-do-not-love.html' title='Who I defend, I do not love.'/><author><name>eve</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17859163.post-3732439324662300187</id><published>2010-03-14T02:09:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2010-03-14T02:14:19.672+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Motivation, come to me. Inspiration, take the same ride.</title><content type='html'>Oh god. 7k essay not going well. So much information and so confusing. I feel like I have to be super morally upright when writing this paper. Except there hasn't been much writing, and I'm not very moral. &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Or morally upright.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Whatever. technicalities.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;But at very least I haven't procrastinated to the very last minute. If I continue at this rate of productivity, I may actually finish this on time. Totally cannot ask for extension. I am going to die. Sleep is for the weak. Omg. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;But anyway, on happier more cheerful stuff. I have discovered a reason to be messy. Instant photography I am in LOVE with you.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_f5BHvJAZ8S0/S5vVBhBrgYI/AAAAAAAAGcs/T3uxjbYvZyM/s1600-h/IMG_9937.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 315px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_f5BHvJAZ8S0/S5vVBhBrgYI/AAAAAAAAGcs/T3uxjbYvZyM/s400/IMG_9937.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5448182396256747906" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17859163-3732439324662300187?l=neuroticsongs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17859163/posts/default/3732439324662300187'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17859163/posts/default/3732439324662300187'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://neuroticsongs.blogspot.com/2010/03/motivation-come-to-me-inspiration-take.html' title='Motivation, come to me. Inspiration, take the same ride.'/><author><name>eve</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_f5BHvJAZ8S0/S5vVBhBrgYI/AAAAAAAAGcs/T3uxjbYvZyM/s72-c/IMG_9937.JPG' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17859163.post-1280876055624271142</id><published>2010-03-11T23:11:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2010-03-11T23:34:29.591+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Work work work.....with me</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_f5BHvJAZ8S0/S5kIc8ff53I/AAAAAAAAGck/lsDpMQWOGIU/s1600-h/IMG_9878.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_f5BHvJAZ8S0/S5kIc8ff53I/AAAAAAAAGck/lsDpMQWOGIU/s400/IMG_9878.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5447394517648926578" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;1. number one worry is the 7k essay due next week for somesoool. Ethics in Public Organizations. zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz. I am not entirely sure how I am going to do it. Not bothering with the other readings for the other mods. Probably not going to be bothered with sleep as well.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;2. Done with one presentation for the 2005. Omg only, thank god that one is over. Thank god I totally acted as a 大姐大 and got everything settled for the project. I half care about them bitching behind my back. I care a lot more about getting things done.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;3. Dins plus Japan talk (and gossiping in general) with OTP for two consecutive nights. I am a satisfied girl. VVVVVVVV EXCITED ABOUT JAPAN. Like I wish I could go there NOW. We have this super long assed list of FOOD TO NOMNOM IN JAPAN. Like excitings only. The right person is definitely very important. I'm glad I'm going Japan with OTP, our love affair with the country is more than just the pretty boys and good food. Hurhur, we heart all the same things, and are amazed/appalled by the same things as well. =DDD We will go to Japan and be terrible foreign tourists! HURHUR.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;4. Of two evils, would you rather your belove cheat on you with many others or one person? The Jack Neo thing puts things into perspective. The couple's blatant, almost rabid claims of love to each other may be sort of =\. But I can totally see why his wife still claims to love him and I am inclined to believe he still loves his wife. Having multiple girlfriends means his attraction to them was mostly physical and on an emotional level, he's still in love with his wife.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Still a bastard.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17859163-1280876055624271142?l=neuroticsongs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17859163/posts/default/1280876055624271142'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17859163/posts/default/1280876055624271142'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://neuroticsongs.blogspot.com/2010/03/work-work-workwith-me.html' title='Work work work.....with me'/><author><name>eve</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_f5BHvJAZ8S0/S5kIc8ff53I/AAAAAAAAGck/lsDpMQWOGIU/s72-c/IMG_9878.JPG' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17859163.post-4225676153119026338</id><published>2010-03-09T18:45:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2010-03-09T19:00:27.161+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Today is your birthday.</title><content type='html'>I have written you many unsent letters filled with words I should have and want to tell you.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;But I think it's suffice to say, today is the one day I let myself think of the painful and useless what ifs. Today is the day I cry but hope. Today is the day I remember and reminisce.&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;object width="480" height="385"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/Tj31k1SsaZg&amp;amp;hl=en_US&amp;amp;fs=1&amp;amp;"&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/Tj31k1SsaZg&amp;amp;hl=en_US&amp;amp;fs=1&amp;amp;" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="480" height="385"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&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;Today I regret. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17859163-4225676153119026338?l=neuroticsongs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17859163/posts/default/4225676153119026338'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17859163/posts/default/4225676153119026338'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://neuroticsongs.blogspot.com/2010/03/today-is-your-birthday.html' title='Today is your birthday.'/><author><name>eve</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17859163.post-7894638621413275045</id><published>2010-03-06T16:51:00.004+08:00</published><updated>2010-03-06T17:13:27.164+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Tis a quiet Saturday afternoon, what would you like to do?</title><content type='html'>一 Giving tuition has if nothing else, cemented one thing for me; I am not cut out to teach. I am neither patient nor understanding. It is hard for me to keep my temper in check and I hate repeating myself. Like a lot. Bodes ill for my current tutee, whom I suspect after every lesson with increasing conviction, is suffering from some kind of learning disorder. =\ Other other hand, she looks like a doll and is not lazy, which motivates me to teach her as 1. not free money 2. I see effort.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;二 Readings for corruption this week (4221) is actually rather interesting. This stems from the fact that I am the discussant this week, as such must read well and throughly. Also, I've taken a few classes on Japan and actually know some of the stuff that is written in the readings. Score for UE mods! Now I actually need to finish the rest. I hope they are as interesting as they are exasperating. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;三 The urge to move out and live on my own gets stronger each day. But I don't think it will ever happen. When I finally start earning the moolah for it to happen, my parents will probably be too old to be left alone. Oh well, live through my room...and other people.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;四 DEADlines piling up. evelyn, last semester, please try not to torture yourself with less than minimal sleep. Totally not good. A plus point is that two of my essays I can actually write on Japan which increases motivation and interest for me. It is such a pain working for things you have no interests in. Like my GEK mods this and last sem. It becomes a burden and takes the fun out of everything. Which makes me want to be more discerning when it comes to job hunting. But hello evelyn, look at your resume. Beggers can't be choosers. Oh life. =/&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;五 say HI to little Paddington! ;) &lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_f5BHvJAZ8S0/S5IbvTtkNOI/AAAAAAAAGcc/F30nSx0VX38/s1600-h/P1000076.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 268px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_f5BHvJAZ8S0/S5IbvTtkNOI/AAAAAAAAGcc/F30nSx0VX38/s400/P1000076.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5445445399003542754" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17859163-7894638621413275045?l=neuroticsongs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17859163/posts/default/7894638621413275045'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17859163/posts/default/7894638621413275045'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://neuroticsongs.blogspot.com/2010/03/tis-quiet-saturday-afternoon-what-would.html' title='Tis a quiet Saturday afternoon, what would you like to do?'/><author><name>eve</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_f5BHvJAZ8S0/S5IbvTtkNOI/AAAAAAAAGcc/F30nSx0VX38/s72-c/P1000076.JPG' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17859163.post-2565677321664244163</id><published>2010-03-05T21:21:00.004+08:00</published><updated>2010-03-05T21:47:09.739+08:00</updated><title type='text'>A step towards reorganization.</title><content type='html'>I think it's time to actually start acting like my blood type, all OCD and in need of clean. I have random bursts/spurts of OMG MUST ORGANIZE WHAT IS ALL THESE SHIT!?!?! Clearly not enough. Recently I've been liking everything thats all white and clean looking, might have to do with the immense number of readings. I just want things uncluttered and clean. Now that my real world is much better, time for my virtual one to get a face lift. Probably the only thing I still want to go for bold colours for is my nails. They are now a creme green. :D&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;School so far has been rather floaty for me. Neither extremely enjoyable nor outright depressing. The last spate of datelines for my academic career (as of right now I have no intention of studying anymore. this might change. or might not) hangs in the not-so-far future, so time to get my act together for the last time. Perhaps I may even enjoy the process this time. I'm just glad for all the ;DDD moments I have collected over the years. Sometimes even the D: moments, because they make life extra sweet.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;This May I'll be treading all over the main Japanese island with OTP for what now looks like an excellent grad trip. I am squeeing in glee just thinking about it. So many places in the world to go and so many wonderful people to go with. My only regret is not having the time and moolah to actually travel with various people to different edges of the world. But we are young, we have opportunities aplenty, just don't pass them by. :) So explore the world with 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;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_f5BHvJAZ8S0/S5ELG7EodFI/AAAAAAAAGcQ/CewDYTH_e3I/s1600-h/IMG_9866.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_f5BHvJAZ8S0/S5ELG7EodFI/AAAAAAAAGcQ/CewDYTH_e3I/s400/IMG_9866.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5445145638031881298" /&gt;&lt;/a&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;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;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;Or we could just find a corner to hide and smile and listen to music. Just us.&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 class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17859163-2565677321664244163?l=neuroticsongs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17859163/posts/default/2565677321664244163'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17859163/posts/default/2565677321664244163'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://neuroticsongs.blogspot.com/2010/03/step-towards-reorganization.html' title='A step towards reorganization.'/><author><name>eve</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_f5BHvJAZ8S0/S5ELG7EodFI/AAAAAAAAGcQ/CewDYTH_e3I/s72-c/IMG_9866.JPG' height='72' width='72'/></entry></feed>
