<?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-3612643916008957855</id><updated>2012-01-13T14:52:43.535+08:00</updated><category term='Visual'/><category term='moving on'/><category term='Signs'/><category term='angst'/><category term='i want'/><category term='character'/><category term='honesty'/><category term='stupid'/><category term='life'/><title type='text'>On my little cloud</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://basketcase-elly.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3612643916008957855/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://basketcase-elly.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Elly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17099501318565717673</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_bTW_dG0ox6s/SU29fWx6bkI/AAAAAAAAAKQ/rldpBh-7HbE/S220/P1030239.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>79</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3612643916008957855.post-8990948400519246521</id><published>2009-09-28T19:02:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2009-09-28T20:21:09.558+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Moving on out</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;Hey guys, i've moved my blog to wordpress. Drop on by...&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(153, 51, 153);"&gt;http://basketcaseelly.wordpress.com/&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/3612643916008957855-8990948400519246521?l=basketcase-elly.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://basketcase-elly.blogspot.com/feeds/8990948400519246521/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3612643916008957855&amp;postID=8990948400519246521' title='14 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3612643916008957855/posts/default/8990948400519246521'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3612643916008957855/posts/default/8990948400519246521'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://basketcase-elly.blogspot.com/2009/09/moving-on-out.html' title='Moving on out'/><author><name>Elly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17099501318565717673</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_bTW_dG0ox6s/SU29fWx6bkI/AAAAAAAAAKQ/rldpBh-7HbE/S220/P1030239.jpg'/></author><thr:total>14</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3612643916008957855.post-6218031399399512763</id><published>2009-09-08T17:41:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2009-09-08T17:42:08.051+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Partly Cloudy</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="'center'"&gt;&lt;a href="'http://kontraband.com/videos/17997/Partly-Cloudy'"&gt;Partly Cloudy&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="'center'"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.kontraband.com/show/mediaplayer.swf" width="545" height="410" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" flashvars="width=560&amp;amp;height=410&amp;amp;displaywidth=480&amp;amp;displayheight=360&amp;amp;file=http://208.116.9.205/10/content/17997/450.flv&amp;amp;backcolor=0x000000&amp;amp;frontcolor=0xFFFFFF&amp;amp;lightcolor=0xFF6600&amp;amp;searchbar=true&amp;amp;overstretch=true&amp;amp;autostart=true&amp;amp;shuffle=false&amp;amp;customKb=true&amp;amp;kb_engagement_url=http://kontraband.com/videos/17997/Partly-Cloudy&amp;amp;kb_engagement_title=Partly Cloudy&amp;amp;kb_contentid=17997"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="'http://www.kontraband.com/videos'"&gt;See more like this on kontraband.com&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Enjoy..courtesy of Pixar&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3612643916008957855-6218031399399512763?l=basketcase-elly.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://basketcase-elly.blogspot.com/feeds/6218031399399512763/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3612643916008957855&amp;postID=6218031399399512763' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3612643916008957855/posts/default/6218031399399512763'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3612643916008957855/posts/default/6218031399399512763'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://basketcase-elly.blogspot.com/2009/09/partly-cloudy.html' title='Partly Cloudy'/><author><name>Elly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17099501318565717673</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_bTW_dG0ox6s/SU29fWx6bkI/AAAAAAAAAKQ/rldpBh-7HbE/S220/P1030239.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3612643916008957855.post-6098633014982370835</id><published>2009-09-04T13:50:00.007+08:00</published><updated>2009-09-04T14:47:09.839+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Lippie Lock</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Like any other girl, i love my lipstick, lip gloss and lip balm. I love seeing it in every shades and cases. Even when i'm broke, i would just check out the makeup counter just to see what's up and coming and what are the latest craze.Like most girl, the dilemma we face is finding the dream colour. The ultimate colour you visualize being on your lip.Giving you the perfect shape and pout. A colour that wouldn't run out the market as soon as you got it.And at a reasonable price.Alas, all of this are all wishful thinking. Until one day, after much surfing done on the web..I came across this site that teaches you to make your own make up organically and naturally.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The foundation course/tutorial was a little confusing, so i opt for the lip balm/lip gloss tutorial.It was really simple ( and no i'm not gonna reveal my secret.lol ) It takes up a little of your time. Simple ingredients you can find over the counter pharmacy and pigments/colour over the net. The cost of making your own balm/gloss is a fraction of what you pay offer the counter at your regular makeup counter. Plus you get to make your own favourite colour at any time and as much as you want. Your colour will never run out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After watching the video, i ordered the kit and within a week i got all my stuff togather. Had alil mishap here and there, with the consistency and colour but all and all..it came out just the way i want.Check out my finish product!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_bTW_dG0ox6s/SqCxyUE13YI/AAAAAAAAAPg/GdRkP8RFD8o/s1600-h/Untitled-1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 452px; height: 184px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_bTW_dG0ox6s/SqCxyUE13YI/AAAAAAAAAPg/GdRkP8RFD8o/s320/Untitled-1.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5377493433020964226" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3612643916008957855-6098633014982370835?l=basketcase-elly.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://basketcase-elly.blogspot.com/feeds/6098633014982370835/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3612643916008957855&amp;postID=6098633014982370835' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3612643916008957855/posts/default/6098633014982370835'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3612643916008957855/posts/default/6098633014982370835'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://basketcase-elly.blogspot.com/2009/09/lippie-lock.html' title='Lippie Lock'/><author><name>Elly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17099501318565717673</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_bTW_dG0ox6s/SU29fWx6bkI/AAAAAAAAAKQ/rldpBh-7HbE/S220/P1030239.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_bTW_dG0ox6s/SqCxyUE13YI/AAAAAAAAAPg/GdRkP8RFD8o/s72-c/Untitled-1.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3612643916008957855.post-5506352490060512837</id><published>2009-08-13T18:05:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2009-08-13T23:52:25.709+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Gridfully Obituary</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_bTW_dG0ox6s/SoPm2xFwbRI/AAAAAAAAAPI/fpevIQJ8x1k/s1600-h/rodasol.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 381px; height: 435px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_bTW_dG0ox6s/SoPm2xFwbRI/AAAAAAAAAPI/fpevIQJ8x1k/s320/rodasol.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5369389009320570130" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;Link:www.adgoodness.com&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3612643916008957855-5506352490060512837?l=basketcase-elly.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://basketcase-elly.blogspot.com/feeds/5506352490060512837/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3612643916008957855&amp;postID=5506352490060512837' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3612643916008957855/posts/default/5506352490060512837'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3612643916008957855/posts/default/5506352490060512837'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://basketcase-elly.blogspot.com/2009/08/gridfully-obituary.html' title='Gridfully Obituary'/><author><name>Elly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17099501318565717673</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_bTW_dG0ox6s/SU29fWx6bkI/AAAAAAAAAKQ/rldpBh-7HbE/S220/P1030239.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_bTW_dG0ox6s/SoPm2xFwbRI/AAAAAAAAAPI/fpevIQJ8x1k/s72-c/rodasol.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3612643916008957855.post-5753900190848386605</id><published>2009-08-12T19:29:00.004+08:00</published><updated>2009-08-12T20:21:37.760+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Nikkor-Pistol Camera</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_bTW_dG0ox6s/SoKpRNHG_SI/AAAAAAAAAO4/F-st8O4kt3g/s1600-h/nikkor3.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_bTW_dG0ox6s/SoKpRNHG_SI/AAAAAAAAAO4/F-st8O4kt3g/s320/nikkor3.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5369039818821401890" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_bTW_dG0ox6s/SoKn_qTl7hI/AAAAAAAAAOw/jHS22fPP9WQ/s1600-h/nikkor2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_bTW_dG0ox6s/SoKn_qTl7hI/AAAAAAAAAOw/jHS22fPP9WQ/s320/nikkor2.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5369038417909116434" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_bTW_dG0ox6s/SoKn2bOdQ2I/AAAAAAAAAOo/6sqU8MaqsJ0/s1600-h/nikkor1"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_bTW_dG0ox6s/SoKn2bOdQ2I/AAAAAAAAAOo/6sqU8MaqsJ0/s320/nikkor1" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5369038259242222434" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;This is just super duper kewl. If only they'd sell this in KL. I'd get it in a heart beat. *sigh*&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3612643916008957855-5753900190848386605?l=basketcase-elly.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://basketcase-elly.blogspot.com/feeds/5753900190848386605/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3612643916008957855&amp;postID=5753900190848386605' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3612643916008957855/posts/default/5753900190848386605'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3612643916008957855/posts/default/5753900190848386605'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://basketcase-elly.blogspot.com/2009/08/nikkor-pistol-camera.html' title='Nikkor-Pistol Camera'/><author><name>Elly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17099501318565717673</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_bTW_dG0ox6s/SU29fWx6bkI/AAAAAAAAAKQ/rldpBh-7HbE/S220/P1030239.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_bTW_dG0ox6s/SoKpRNHG_SI/AAAAAAAAAO4/F-st8O4kt3g/s72-c/nikkor3.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3612643916008957855.post-1522045468684347965</id><published>2009-08-10T19:03:00.013+08:00</published><updated>2009-08-11T00:53:09.466+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Sleep where ever</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_bTW_dG0ox6s/SoBO7RvWZ4I/AAAAAAAAAOg/sdA-o5kg1ZY/s1600-h/parkhotel.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 469px; height: 247px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_bTW_dG0ox6s/SoBO7RvWZ4I/AAAAAAAAAOg/sdA-o5kg1ZY/s320/parkhotel.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5368377536106882946" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Good friend of mine, Aidaggles who is a search engine in her own right found this &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;architectural wonder. I find it utterly unique and thought provoking.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;The designer pushed his/hers creative boundaries. He/her thought out of the box.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Pure passion. Enjoy.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3612643916008957855-1522045468684347965?l=basketcase-elly.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://basketcase-elly.blogspot.com/feeds/1522045468684347965/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3612643916008957855&amp;postID=1522045468684347965' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3612643916008957855/posts/default/1522045468684347965'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3612643916008957855/posts/default/1522045468684347965'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://basketcase-elly.blogspot.com/2009/08/sleep-where-ever_10.html' title='Sleep where ever'/><author><name>Elly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17099501318565717673</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_bTW_dG0ox6s/SU29fWx6bkI/AAAAAAAAAKQ/rldpBh-7HbE/S220/P1030239.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_bTW_dG0ox6s/SoBO7RvWZ4I/AAAAAAAAAOg/sdA-o5kg1ZY/s72-c/parkhotel.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3612643916008957855.post-6307910552127039634</id><published>2009-07-18T00:30:00.005+08:00</published><updated>2009-07-18T15:44:14.189+08:00</updated><title type='text'>I fluff</title><content type='html'>To date, 2 of my ex's are married and 1 is engaged.According to sources, he will be married at the end of the year.This is the recent ex [recent being 2 years ago] that i almost settled down with.Funny thing was, almost all of my friend knew..and non of them except for 1 told me. I didn't take it too seriously at first coz i figured it could be just talk. Lately, I've been in a state of "let's not speculate until its the real deal". To my surprise the real deal came in a form of multiple engagement pictures in FacefreakinBook!...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's like they say, wish for it hard enough..and it will come to be. Here i was, faced with all this images of happiness. I was in complete shock. I couldn't breathe. I knew that at some point he will come to this but i didn't think that it'll be soon. I felt it a little unfair that he got his happiness ever so quickly but I'm still very much on my own. The feeling of loneliness and paranoia kicked in full swing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I started questioning myself. All the usual question rushing in my head.What's wrong with me? Am i not pretty or smart enough? was i unkind? insensitive? and the list goes on and on. Then i realized that, my exs they do well after having being with me. Some of em' gets married..some into a long and lasting relationship and some eveb grew a pair. Bottom line, they do better after me. So I've come to a conclusion. I think i'm an emotional fluffer. I fluff men emotionally. I make it easy for the next girl to go for the kill. I fluff and then they marry my men.I've been dealt a raw deal indeed. I try talking it out to a fellow friend who i thought was a friend. He felt  that i should stop talking about it. That i should shut up about the whole thing and just keep it inside. He also feels i'm not over my ex. That alone has proved to me that he doesn't know me well. I shouldn't expect loyalty from him since he is one of my ex's closes friend. In the end boys will choose boys. Bro's before Hoe's as they'd say. Ah well..that is life..it will never be fair..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For now, this emotional-men fluffer will keep it down low. Focus on me instead of others who i deem irrelevant. So far there has been a few..irrelevances..will try to surpass what ever emotion i have towards my ex , life..and our mutual friend. Connection to his side has been severed..mentally..&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3612643916008957855-6307910552127039634?l=basketcase-elly.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://basketcase-elly.blogspot.com/feeds/6307910552127039634/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3612643916008957855&amp;postID=6307910552127039634' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3612643916008957855/posts/default/6307910552127039634'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3612643916008957855/posts/default/6307910552127039634'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://basketcase-elly.blogspot.com/2009/07/i-fluff.html' title='I fluff'/><author><name>Elly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17099501318565717673</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_bTW_dG0ox6s/SU29fWx6bkI/AAAAAAAAAKQ/rldpBh-7HbE/S220/P1030239.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3612643916008957855.post-1178998603899855900</id><published>2009-06-22T14:18:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2009-06-23T01:15:05.758+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Strength</title><content type='html'>&lt;object height="344" width="425"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/jJOzdLwvTHA&amp;amp;hl=en&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/jJOzdLwvTHA&amp;amp;hl=en&amp;amp;fs=1&amp;amp;" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" height="344" width="425"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object height="344" width="425"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/fORAPkfVV_A&amp;amp;hl=en&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/fORAPkfVV_A&amp;amp;hl=en&amp;amp;fs=1&amp;amp;" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" height="344" width="425"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I love her voice..such strength..&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3612643916008957855-1178998603899855900?l=basketcase-elly.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://basketcase-elly.blogspot.com/feeds/1178998603899855900/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3612643916008957855&amp;postID=1178998603899855900' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3612643916008957855/posts/default/1178998603899855900'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3612643916008957855/posts/default/1178998603899855900'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://basketcase-elly.blogspot.com/2009/06/strength.html' title='Strength'/><author><name>Elly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17099501318565717673</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_bTW_dG0ox6s/SU29fWx6bkI/AAAAAAAAAKQ/rldpBh-7HbE/S220/P1030239.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3612643916008957855.post-9206843263055909309</id><published>2009-06-10T10:42:00.004+08:00</published><updated>2009-06-11T15:07:50.665+08:00</updated><title type='text'>You forgot your knives</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_bTW_dG0ox6s/Si8eZSxy7OI/AAAAAAAAAOQ/LqqwtxJrFg0/s1600-h/Pray_to_the_hypocrite_by_Cxntagion.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 214px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_bTW_dG0ox6s/Si8eZSxy7OI/AAAAAAAAAOQ/LqqwtxJrFg0/s320/Pray_to_the_hypocrite_by_Cxntagion.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5345524702598327522" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;                                                                                                                                                                                                        (photo credit: Cxntagion, www.deviantart.com)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;Hypocrites, they're on top with all the other things that I hate.&lt;/span&gt; They live off people's misery. They like seeing chaos. It brings joy to their rotten lil heart. Bastards!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;These hypocritical individual they are indecisive. They don't know if they want to be good or bad.Black or white. Make up your fucking mind yo! Stop being blardy cowards!! Stand up for what you believe and feel.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you dislike someone..say it! don't go behind their back and bitch about them and then act all peachy in front of em. That's just not right. Why be on the fence about how you feel about someone. You know how you feel..you know its for real. You know the hatred you have towards  someone wouldn't change. You know its made of stone.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then why the heck deny? Why the hell are you hiding behind your fucking mask??!!!&lt;br /&gt;Do you wanna know why you do it...Coz you're just chicken shit! You have this biggest insecurity and fear. You fear that if you let out your outmost hatred towards a person you'd be judge. And what ever your flaws would be visible. Coz you know how human being works. We pick at everything. The moment we sense someone hates another, we'd pick at it. We dissect and analyze as to why do u have such animosity towards someone. Who made you perfect? And all the unwanted questions comes pouring out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That my friend is your fear. The fear of facing those questions. So you settle for normalcy..which is bitching about others..picking at their flaws..better them than you RIGHT!!! Ass! You're just another insecure coward settling for scraps. You feed of someone's pain. GO ahead carry on doing it.Settle for bullshit.Settle for pain. But i dare you to be different! I dare you to come up to my face and let your feelings known!!! I dare YOU!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3612643916008957855-9206843263055909309?l=basketcase-elly.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://basketcase-elly.blogspot.com/feeds/9206843263055909309/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3612643916008957855&amp;postID=9206843263055909309' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3612643916008957855/posts/default/9206843263055909309'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3612643916008957855/posts/default/9206843263055909309'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://basketcase-elly.blogspot.com/2009/06/you-forgot-your-knivest.html' title='You forgot your knives'/><author><name>Elly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17099501318565717673</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_bTW_dG0ox6s/SU29fWx6bkI/AAAAAAAAAKQ/rldpBh-7HbE/S220/P1030239.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_bTW_dG0ox6s/Si8eZSxy7OI/AAAAAAAAAOQ/LqqwtxJrFg0/s72-c/Pray_to_the_hypocrite_by_Cxntagion.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3612643916008957855.post-4018220804854491034</id><published>2009-05-30T04:21:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2009-06-01T14:24:23.124+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Love thy-self</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;"I only want the best which is for me" says falloutboy. Without a doubt, I agree. Friends are saying, I fear commitment but that's not right. I have no problem committing to someone. Is just for now I just want to be with me. Honestly, I'd be lying if I said I'm completely happy where I am and that I'm not lonely.Being alone and lonely is two different things.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Of course, I get lonely but I'd rather be alone rather than to deal with someone else's insecurities..problem..drama. It's not that i haven't been out with anyone..or that I haven't liked anyone. I have. At present I am in like with someone. Is just I dont know if he's worth all the trouble?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Friends are saying how would I know for sure if he's worth it if I don't take the leap? Answer is..I dont know? As for now maybe, he has yet proven himself worthy enough for me to want to leap. I want to see him unravel. I want to see what sort of person he is. Does he love himself enough to not be all caught up with bullshit around him. I need someone logical,rationale and strong..That much I know.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm just so at the point in my life where it's me first then everyone else. I can't make you happy if i'm not happy first. I want to be able to be me and not be questioned or shh-ed in regards of my actions. I need an equal. I need a man that would compliment me and not complete me. Gone were the days of "You complete me!" bullshit.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3612643916008957855-4018220804854491034?l=basketcase-elly.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://basketcase-elly.blogspot.com/feeds/4018220804854491034/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3612643916008957855&amp;postID=4018220804854491034' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3612643916008957855/posts/default/4018220804854491034'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3612643916008957855/posts/default/4018220804854491034'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://basketcase-elly.blogspot.com/2009/05/love-thy-self.html' title='Love thy-self'/><author><name>Elly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17099501318565717673</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_bTW_dG0ox6s/SU29fWx6bkI/AAAAAAAAAKQ/rldpBh-7HbE/S220/P1030239.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3612643916008957855.post-3613286951793582367</id><published>2009-04-23T04:27:00.004+08:00</published><updated>2009-04-23T04:59:10.960+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Actions VS Words</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_bTW_dG0ox6s/Se9979z08UI/AAAAAAAAAOA/yX-BzGMd4BQ/s1600-h/n505072836_2116796_3797.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_bTW_dG0ox6s/Se9979z08UI/AAAAAAAAAOA/yX-BzGMd4BQ/s320/n505072836_2116796_3797.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5327615353360281922" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;I noticed that lately, the guys that I've been going out with are constantly giving me mixed signals. Back in the day, say 5 years ago I don't remember encountering this sorta dilemma.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's either I like you or I don't. Plain and simple. Just the way I like it *laughs* but yah nowdays you can't tell anymore. For the past 6 months or so there was only one guy i dated who was solid. The rest were either I like you (and they say this) but I don't know, things are complicated la de da. The other set would show me with his actions but when it comes to a certain point they stop. Don't ask me why coz I dont know and I didn't bother asking them.Why push for someone's affections when they are not willing to give it to you...*mehh*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So yah nowdays you can never tell. Before if a guy were to reach out for your hand, or tries to hug you in the movies or kisses you goodnight after a good day out means they want to go steady.They want you to be their girl. Things has changed. You can't take their words entirely when their actions aren't the same or vice versa. You can't say someone is together just because you saw them hugging one another (intimately) or holding hands.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I brought up this issue to several of my guy friends and according to them when it comes to men, I can almost always trust their actions. Why? because with actions is like a form of habit or ritual is something they can't hide as well as words. It's like in their nature.If i wanted to know if they guy really liked me I should observe his actions carefully.His body language,his gestures and the way he looks at me.If it all seems to be positive and he's doing everything and anything to gain my attention then he's smitten.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Armed with this knowledge, I'm still quite sceptical. I guess we'd just have to wait and see. Believe me I am in no rush to be with someone. I have all the time to see the outcome.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3612643916008957855-3613286951793582367?l=basketcase-elly.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://basketcase-elly.blogspot.com/feeds/3613286951793582367/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3612643916008957855&amp;postID=3613286951793582367' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3612643916008957855/posts/default/3613286951793582367'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3612643916008957855/posts/default/3613286951793582367'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://basketcase-elly.blogspot.com/2009/04/actions-vs-words.html' title='Actions VS Words'/><author><name>Elly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17099501318565717673</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_bTW_dG0ox6s/SU29fWx6bkI/AAAAAAAAAKQ/rldpBh-7HbE/S220/P1030239.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_bTW_dG0ox6s/Se9979z08UI/AAAAAAAAAOA/yX-BzGMd4BQ/s72-c/n505072836_2116796_3797.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3612643916008957855.post-8131141842529163734</id><published>2009-04-16T02:43:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2009-04-16T03:16:42.107+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Ugh! Ugh! Ugh!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a style="font-family: trebuchet ms;" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_bTW_dG0ox6s/SeYvcgXuq0I/AAAAAAAAAN4/LidnvzPo_Rs/s1600-h/snails-closeup.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 228px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_bTW_dG0ox6s/SeYvcgXuq0I/AAAAAAAAAN4/LidnvzPo_Rs/s320/snails-closeup.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5324995776184494914" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;font-family:trebuchet ms;" &gt;If you are one of my closes friends and family you'd know that I don't do jelly-like texture. Be it on dessert, meat, seafood. ANYTHING jelly-like&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;font-family:trebuchet ms;" &gt;NO NO NO NO!!! DIE YOU FIEND!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt; With such intense hate *laughs* why would you even bother wasting your time suggesting the idea of trying to eat snails to me. Not just any snails but garden snails at that.Ugh! the idea of it makes me wanna hurl! &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;How could you consume something so nasty as a garden snail? You see it in your garden walking, well more like crawling ever so slowly across your lawn *ugh!!!* Nasty! I don't care that you wash it clean, seasoned it and then saute the lil rascal. It's still NASTY! &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;And no i'm not ignorant for you haters out there. I tried it once and NO! it wouldn't take a few tries before i like it. Once was enough.Horrible experience ever! Till this day i'm still traumatized by the experience.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3612643916008957855-8131141842529163734?l=basketcase-elly.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://basketcase-elly.blogspot.com/feeds/8131141842529163734/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3612643916008957855&amp;postID=8131141842529163734' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3612643916008957855/posts/default/8131141842529163734'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3612643916008957855/posts/default/8131141842529163734'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://basketcase-elly.blogspot.com/2009/04/ugh-ugh-ugh.html' title='Ugh! Ugh! Ugh!'/><author><name>Elly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17099501318565717673</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_bTW_dG0ox6s/SU29fWx6bkI/AAAAAAAAAKQ/rldpBh-7HbE/S220/P1030239.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_bTW_dG0ox6s/SeYvcgXuq0I/AAAAAAAAAN4/LidnvzPo_Rs/s72-c/snails-closeup.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3612643916008957855.post-935635868970981957</id><published>2009-04-06T23:35:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2009-04-07T00:19:36.578+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='angst'/><title type='text'>Fuck You It's Over</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_bTW_dG0ox6s/Sdohs25yZRI/AAAAAAAAANw/9HPc_MUGkqo/s1600-h/glasvegas.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_bTW_dG0ox6s/Sdohs25yZRI/AAAAAAAAANw/9HPc_MUGkqo/s320/glasvegas.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5321602964227515666" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When i go through something really upsetting, I almost always can't seem to word it out. Ok that's not true, I can but not with the sorta angst and intensity i want it to be.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My usual solution is to find a specific band with a specific song that'll match my feeling in all its song and lyric.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For today I'm feeling this band. It was introduced to me by a friend few months back. I didn't take an instant liking to it but after a few play I got alil hooked. So yah I think currently their in the midst of coming up with a new album.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm currently hooked on their song "Fuck you it's over" and for of course an apparent reason (check the blog below and you'll get it ) *laughs* so yah the lyric says it all and i'm glad. I'll leave you to the lyric of things song.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-----------------------------------------------------------&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I gave you all the love,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="rightColumn"&gt; A boy could ever need,&lt;br /&gt;And in this world there's only one of me,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And all there is left,&lt;br /&gt;Is the realisation,&lt;br /&gt;That we we're never meant to be,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Fuck you,&lt;br /&gt;Fuck you,&lt;br /&gt;It's Over,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Fuck you,&lt;br /&gt;Fuck you,&lt;br /&gt;It's Over,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've been lost since I woke up,&lt;br /&gt;Broked since we broke up,&lt;br /&gt;Vanished by your heart,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Remember it when,&lt;br /&gt;You promised me how,&lt;br /&gt;This time this christmas things would be different by now,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Fuck you,&lt;br /&gt;Fuck you,&lt;br /&gt;It's Over,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Fuck you,&lt;br /&gt;Fuck you,&lt;br /&gt;It's Over,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Middle Eight&lt;br /&gt;All I wanted was to be,&lt;br /&gt;Where your heart is,&lt;br /&gt;But that's all changed now,&lt;br /&gt;Now you're dead to me,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You're dead,&lt;br /&gt;You're dead,&lt;br /&gt;You're dead,&lt;br /&gt;You're dead,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Fuck You,&lt;br /&gt;Fuck You,&lt;br /&gt;It's Over,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For You,&lt;br /&gt;For You,&lt;br /&gt;It's Over,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Fuck You,&lt;br /&gt;For You,&lt;br /&gt;It's Over,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For You,&lt;br /&gt;For You,&lt;br /&gt;It's Over,&lt;br /&gt;Ahh,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3612643916008957855-935635868970981957?l=basketcase-elly.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://basketcase-elly.blogspot.com/feeds/935635868970981957/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3612643916008957855&amp;postID=935635868970981957' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3612643916008957855/posts/default/935635868970981957'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3612643916008957855/posts/default/935635868970981957'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://basketcase-elly.blogspot.com/2009/04/fuck-you-its-over.html' title='Fuck You It&apos;s Over'/><author><name>Elly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17099501318565717673</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_bTW_dG0ox6s/SU29fWx6bkI/AAAAAAAAAKQ/rldpBh-7HbE/S220/P1030239.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_bTW_dG0ox6s/Sdohs25yZRI/AAAAAAAAANw/9HPc_MUGkqo/s72-c/glasvegas.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3612643916008957855.post-6646581929283098426</id><published>2009-04-06T02:14:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2009-04-07T01:19:00.319+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='stupid'/><title type='text'>Just like the movies....</title><content type='html'>You know those stories we watch on the telly or at the movies that tell us of a mediocre man who falls for a rich and beautiful girl. Who in the end, ends up with someone equally match in looks and wealth. He tries his best to please her within his means but it'll never be enough. She'll never see him for what he's worth.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I never thought I'd ever be in his situation, the mediocre man.Today I felt how it was like to be in his shoes and i finally get it all. You see for as long as I can remember, I've had this feeling for this one person. About a year back, we made it transparent but decided to basically not pursue it. Well he did, i didn't. I wanted to see where things &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;might've&lt;/span&gt; lead us. Basically i had my heart on the platter he just smashed it to pieces.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I forgave him over time. Thinking that we've been friends close to 5 years why fuck up a completely good friendship. Today i learned that I &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;don't&lt;/span&gt; even have that. I was delusional all this while.Here i was trying to make the grand gesture, so the dude wouldn't miss &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;Jamiroquai&lt;/span&gt; by &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;surprising&lt;/span&gt; him with a ticket. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;Yah&lt;/span&gt; it wasn't worth much but in the end it'll still get u in to the concert area and that was what matters to me. I didn't want him to feel left out just because he was broke and filled with pride to accept a ticket purchased by me. So i lied i said i got it for free from a friend. When in actual fact i bought it so he wouldn't miss his favourite band.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ended up, he bailed on me for a free Grand Stand ticket. Funny thing was he never once mentioned that he was getting tickets else where. The other thing was i booked him way before everything because i wanted to surprise him. When i finally told him i actually bought the tickets, instead of  feeling guilty, he instead suggested i sell it off to his brother. I was just in shocked. The plan was getting the same tickets and going &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;together&lt;/span&gt; (&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;coz&lt;/span&gt; u had to pay some special pass to park in &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;sepang&lt;/span&gt;) and so happen his friend had those pass. I was literally counting on him for a ride there. So now all gutted and left high and dry, I was super close to not going because of my supposed dear "friend". After venting out my pain, I decided to not let what happen get to me. Fuck it! He's not worth it. I can finally say it.His actions says it all.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That's why I can't be mad at him &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;coz&lt;/span&gt; in the end &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9"&gt;truthfully&lt;/span&gt; I was stupid to believe and hope he'd see it..he'd see me but &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10"&gt;yah&lt;/span&gt; as his actions states I mean absolutely jack shit to him. I know if he reads this he'd say " I never asked you to buy the tickets" and its true he never did. I just wanted him to know that for him I'd do a lot to make him happy and feel special. I'd even sacrifice an actual good free seat to be where he'd be &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11"&gt;coz&lt;/span&gt; i didn't want him to be alone. In the end, thinking about others doesn't get u any where...&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12"&gt;u'd&lt;/span&gt; just get hurt in the process..&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3612643916008957855-6646581929283098426?l=basketcase-elly.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://basketcase-elly.blogspot.com/feeds/6646581929283098426/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3612643916008957855&amp;postID=6646581929283098426' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3612643916008957855/posts/default/6646581929283098426'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3612643916008957855/posts/default/6646581929283098426'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://basketcase-elly.blogspot.com/2009/04/just-like-movies.html' title='Just like the movies....'/><author><name>Elly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17099501318565717673</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_bTW_dG0ox6s/SU29fWx6bkI/AAAAAAAAAKQ/rldpBh-7HbE/S220/P1030239.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3612643916008957855.post-6097066152534112176</id><published>2009-04-03T00:48:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2009-04-03T00:54:54.407+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Kicks for Chicks</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_bTW_dG0ox6s/SdTsj0fUChI/AAAAAAAAANo/ivJjyHT9OPU/s1600-h/shoes.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 288px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_bTW_dG0ox6s/SdTsj0fUChI/AAAAAAAAANo/ivJjyHT9OPU/s320/shoes.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5320137159960955410" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Girls and their shoes, its a never ending story but it is what it is so why question it right! You can never go wrong with shoes. They just make you feel like a million bucks after a hard day of work. Sometimes they even give you a lil boost of confidence. Almost all girls love high heels shoes. For me the pointier the better. And if its 3 inch onwards I'll buy in a instant.Ofcourse if the design is to my liking that is.I love them heels coz they just perk up my lil derriere section *laughs*&lt;/span&gt;. &lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Plus they're just super sexy.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Though i love them to bits. I've always been the "go for comfort" sorta girl when it comes to shoes and i love nothing more than my canvas flats. They're super comfortable. They come in different designs and colours. Their designs are simple not much frilly bits around it. It almost always fit any occassion and its soo laid back at the same time. I love it. The picture above is some I came across while surfing the net.Enjoy..*wink*&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3612643916008957855-6097066152534112176?l=basketcase-elly.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://basketcase-elly.blogspot.com/feeds/6097066152534112176/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3612643916008957855&amp;postID=6097066152534112176' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3612643916008957855/posts/default/6097066152534112176'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3612643916008957855/posts/default/6097066152534112176'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://basketcase-elly.blogspot.com/2009/04/kicks-for-chicks.html' title='Kicks for Chicks'/><author><name>Elly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17099501318565717673</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_bTW_dG0ox6s/SU29fWx6bkI/AAAAAAAAAKQ/rldpBh-7HbE/S220/P1030239.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_bTW_dG0ox6s/SdTsj0fUChI/AAAAAAAAANo/ivJjyHT9OPU/s72-c/shoes.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3612643916008957855.post-5351614664414403757</id><published>2009-03-30T22:17:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2009-03-30T22:20:47.701+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Connections</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_bTW_dG0ox6s/SdDUuvOuCsI/AAAAAAAAANY/w6KmkngCUYs/s1600-h/I_got_connections_by_Mista_Bob.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 282px; height: 205px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_bTW_dG0ox6s/SdDUuvOuCsI/AAAAAAAAANY/w6KmkngCUYs/s320/I_got_connections_by_Mista_Bob.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5318985059341830850" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51);font-size:78%;" &gt;(photo credit:Mista-Bob,deviantart)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;According to a close friend, in order for you to be with someone you'd need some sort of spark.some sort of connection.What if a connection is just not enough? Maybe you need to, I don't know have more time.More time to let their essence sink in. More time to see how they are when they're under pressure. More time to see what they're truly made of. What sort of person are they? What are their principals?What they're like with their friends? Do they change when ever they're with different sets of groups? and the list goes on and on and on.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;But yah, why is connection so important? Especially to women.I feel that we've been brain washed by the media and the people around us on the idea of love,relationship and commitment. My friend Mr K. thinks i've concocted this theories as means to avoid any form of commitment. Truthfully I don't fear commitment. I'm not afraid of risking myself in a relationship.I've done it countless times. For me before i get into something serious, first and foremost i don't want to be pushed. I'd want to have a clear mind. I need to know that when i get into a relationship he's worth my time. Worth my effort. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;So far i've only experienced 3 "connections" throughout my life.The first two went on to be the longest and most serious relationship. The 3rd i experienced it few months back. It didn't turn into a relationship. Honestly i wasn't really gunning for it to turn into one. I just basically took my time. I wanted to see what he's made of.Could he take me? Could i take him? Funny thing was we sparked in so many ways and to some that's enough and we should be togather right this minute. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;Sadly i didn't feel the same way. I couldn't bring myself to invest more of me in the whole thing. He just didn't seem right to me. The more we hung out the more i realized that i can't bring myself to trust him. His actions and words often always contradict.He often seems to have different sides.Half of the time I couldn't tell which side is the real him or his shell of a persona and that is never good. I just had to say  my peace. If you think i'm not disappointed, well you're wrong. I am a little but at least i found out soon. In other words, connection/spark is never enough. You still need to do some leg work. This way you get to segregate the psychos from the ones that truly deserves your attention.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3612643916008957855-5351614664414403757?l=basketcase-elly.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://basketcase-elly.blogspot.com/feeds/5351614664414403757/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3612643916008957855&amp;postID=5351614664414403757' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3612643916008957855/posts/default/5351614664414403757'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3612643916008957855/posts/default/5351614664414403757'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://basketcase-elly.blogspot.com/2009/03/connections.html' title='Connections'/><author><name>Elly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17099501318565717673</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_bTW_dG0ox6s/SU29fWx6bkI/AAAAAAAAAKQ/rldpBh-7HbE/S220/P1030239.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_bTW_dG0ox6s/SdDUuvOuCsI/AAAAAAAAANY/w6KmkngCUYs/s72-c/I_got_connections_by_Mista_Bob.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3612643916008957855.post-4335913635808222620</id><published>2009-03-28T15:36:00.004+08:00</published><updated>2009-04-07T01:19:48.730+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='i want'/><title type='text'>please..please...</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_bTW_dG0ox6s/Sc3TrGEzPzI/AAAAAAAAANA/dz3vM65Fbl8/s1600-h/james-mcavoy"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 251px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_bTW_dG0ox6s/Sc3TrGEzPzI/AAAAAAAAANA/dz3vM65Fbl8/s320/james-mcavoy" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5318139472313007922" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Sexy sexy McAvoy. He's not the normal kind of good looking but..he's super hot. Please please god can i have him *laughs*&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;or anything close is fine *sigh*&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3612643916008957855-4335913635808222620?l=basketcase-elly.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://basketcase-elly.blogspot.com/feeds/4335913635808222620/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3612643916008957855&amp;postID=4335913635808222620' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3612643916008957855/posts/default/4335913635808222620'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3612643916008957855/posts/default/4335913635808222620'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://basketcase-elly.blogspot.com/2009/03/pleaseplease.html' title='please..please...'/><author><name>Elly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17099501318565717673</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_bTW_dG0ox6s/SU29fWx6bkI/AAAAAAAAAKQ/rldpBh-7HbE/S220/P1030239.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_bTW_dG0ox6s/Sc3TrGEzPzI/AAAAAAAAANA/dz3vM65Fbl8/s72-c/james-mcavoy' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3612643916008957855.post-2178149725038223721</id><published>2009-03-10T17:30:00.005+08:00</published><updated>2009-04-07T01:20:17.218+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='life'/><title type='text'>Sorting out the folders</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_bTW_dG0ox6s/SbYzYPJBynI/AAAAAAAAAM4/y9Qtb34TnHs/s1600-h/folder"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_bTW_dG0ox6s/SbYzYPJBynI/AAAAAAAAAM4/y9Qtb34TnHs/s320/folder" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5311489302004353650" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We all deal with folders on a day to day basis. From actual yellow or black bound folders to those digital ones on the computer. Everything meant to keep your life organized, in checked, simple and easy. So they say.It takes a lot of thought to label something and putting it in a specific category.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Imagine doing that for your life.Try putting or categorizing an incident or someone into a folder. Not easy. &lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 102, 0);font-size:130%;" &gt;Wait!&lt;/span&gt; I take that back, it can be easy when they've been complete jerks.Right them off with a big &lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(204, 0, 0);font-size:130%;" &gt;REJECT&lt;/span&gt; stamp on the their file *grins* ahh if only life was really that simple. Sadly you can't always have what you want. So yah, its complex this whole filing shenanigans. One wrong move then you'd have to reassess the whole incident or individual again and I hate it when that happens. It just takes a lot out of you.'&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A close friend of mine refuses to succumb to this folder system.To him once you've categorized and place them in their respective folder, it'll be the end for them. You'll forever have a set opinion over them and it'll be hard to change that down the road. I agree with him. &lt;span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(0, 102, 0);"&gt;So much so that if you could stack up all my life issues, the people I'd want to put in the hater folder is stacked so high I think right now it'll probably be up to the ceiling&lt;/span&gt;. Don't get me wrong i'm not ignoring or pushing anything under the rug. I'm not running away from my mistakes or what's been troubling me. For now this time around, I'd like to leave to chance. Instead of hunching over mountain of &lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic; color: rgb(51, 153, 153);"&gt;"paper works"&lt;/span&gt; worrying about what and who goes where, let the card fall as they may.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No point analyzing things when everything is just apparent.Things happen coz they happen. Yes for a reason but you don't have to figure out the reason there and then. I'm a hardcore believer of the kharmatic cycle. If you do shit, then you'll get shit and If you lie,then it will be made transparent the next time around. &lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 102, 0);font-size:130%;" &gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;All we gotta do is be patient and just wait...Ohmmm hahahahaah...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3612643916008957855-2178149725038223721?l=basketcase-elly.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://basketcase-elly.blogspot.com/feeds/2178149725038223721/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3612643916008957855&amp;postID=2178149725038223721' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3612643916008957855/posts/default/2178149725038223721'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3612643916008957855/posts/default/2178149725038223721'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://basketcase-elly.blogspot.com/2009/03/sorting-out-folders.html' title='Sorting out the folders'/><author><name>Elly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17099501318565717673</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_bTW_dG0ox6s/SU29fWx6bkI/AAAAAAAAAKQ/rldpBh-7HbE/S220/P1030239.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_bTW_dG0ox6s/SbYzYPJBynI/AAAAAAAAAM4/y9Qtb34TnHs/s72-c/folder' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3612643916008957855.post-1270594374035499224</id><published>2009-03-05T02:42:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2009-03-05T03:01:56.362+08:00</updated><title type='text'>If he can shake it then he can make it</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_bTW_dG0ox6s/Sa7LzQFwjNI/AAAAAAAAAMw/KUJbLkrGeso/s1600-h/Jason-Mraz-w08.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 256px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_bTW_dG0ox6s/Sa7LzQFwjNI/AAAAAAAAAMw/KUJbLkrGeso/s320/Jason-Mraz-w08.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5309405092069280978" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;It's hard to find a guy who could shake it. I'm not talking about just swaying from side to side,moving his arms Pharrel-ish way ( though at times it is cool ). I'm talking about &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;proper gyrating,hip swishing, belly dancer ish moves. I've never seen it around town.There has been some close call but never never like what I've experienced tonight.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mraz really knocked me out off my feet. Shit! The man can move. I swear when he was breaking his moves, all I mean all the girls in that freakin stadium including myself screamed. Not only can he sing,play the guitar but he can really really dance. And in my book, THAT RAWKS!!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He was really one with his body. You know the guy is comfortable with everything about himself. He is a geek in the truest form but a freaking sexy geek. Everything about him tonight oozed confident sexuality *smile* Non of those cocky macho crap we usually get here. Seeing this dude live was the ultimate experience. A complete pro.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Guys seriously if you want to make it with girl, you got to shake to make it. It is true what you've been hearing. Girls do check you out when you dance. If you're good...HIGH HIGH Points in our books!!! So go practice !! Show your woman what you can do! Rock her world!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3612643916008957855-1270594374035499224?l=basketcase-elly.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://basketcase-elly.blogspot.com/feeds/1270594374035499224/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3612643916008957855&amp;postID=1270594374035499224' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3612643916008957855/posts/default/1270594374035499224'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3612643916008957855/posts/default/1270594374035499224'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://basketcase-elly.blogspot.com/2009/03/if-he-can-shake-it-then-he-can-make-it.html' title='If he can shake it then he can make it'/><author><name>Elly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17099501318565717673</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_bTW_dG0ox6s/SU29fWx6bkI/AAAAAAAAAKQ/rldpBh-7HbE/S220/P1030239.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_bTW_dG0ox6s/Sa7LzQFwjNI/AAAAAAAAAMw/KUJbLkrGeso/s72-c/Jason-Mraz-w08.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3612643916008957855.post-4078942287845814818</id><published>2009-02-16T23:36:00.004+08:00</published><updated>2009-02-24T01:13:40.942+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Mr Dylan</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_bTW_dG0ox6s/SaLVcfYmD0I/AAAAAAAAAMQ/JUBPups0Jo0/s1600-h/iPhoto+Library"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 266px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_bTW_dG0ox6s/SaLVcfYmD0I/AAAAAAAAAMQ/JUBPups0Jo0/s320/iPhoto+Library" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5306037996433575746" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-weight: bold;font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:100%;" class="body"  &gt;"I define nothing. Not beauty, not patriotism. I take each thing as it is, without prior rules about what it should be.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-weight: bold;font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:100%;"  &gt; "&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-weight: bold;font-size:100%;" &gt; &lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-weight: bold;font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:100%;" class="bodybold"  &gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-weight: bold;font-size:100%;" &gt; &lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-weight: bold;font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:100%;" class="body"  &gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I don't think the human mind can comprehend the past and the future. They are both just illusions that can manipulate you into thinking theres some kind of change.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-weight: bold;font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:100%;"  &gt;"&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-size:100%;" &gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:100%;"  &gt;&lt;br /&gt;He was on to something..&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-size:100%;" &gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-size:100%;" &gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="bodybold"  style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3612643916008957855-4078942287845814818?l=basketcase-elly.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://basketcase-elly.blogspot.com/feeds/4078942287845814818/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3612643916008957855&amp;postID=4078942287845814818' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3612643916008957855/posts/default/4078942287845814818'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3612643916008957855/posts/default/4078942287845814818'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://basketcase-elly.blogspot.com/2009/02/mr-dylan.html' title='Mr Dylan'/><author><name>Elly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17099501318565717673</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_bTW_dG0ox6s/SU29fWx6bkI/AAAAAAAAAKQ/rldpBh-7HbE/S220/P1030239.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_bTW_dG0ox6s/SaLVcfYmD0I/AAAAAAAAAMQ/JUBPups0Jo0/s72-c/iPhoto+Library' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3612643916008957855.post-4603209284115378376</id><published>2009-02-14T00:32:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2009-02-14T01:09:32.579+08:00</updated><title type='text'>I don't..</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_bTW_dG0ox6s/SZWg1I3j9YI/AAAAAAAAALw/_CExmNLA5BA/s1600-h/noentry"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 569px; height: 378px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_bTW_dG0ox6s/SZWg1I3j9YI/AAAAAAAAALw/_CExmNLA5BA/s320/noentry" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5302320971072664962" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;In light of all this bizarre craze on Facebook, the whole list out 25 things or more as means to get to know you as a person is just soo hmmm...to me..but since i have nothing to do on this god forsaken day (Valentine's Day). I thought what tha' heck ! Let's do it! but with my own twist of course.And it goes something like this:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-I don't like ignorant people&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-I don't like to be lied to. I feel that when you lie you disrespect first yourself and the person you're trying to have a connection with.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;I mean as white lies goes...if you can avoid not doing it..is great..there are times..white lies are needed but when it comes to serious matters..never i repeat NEVER LIE!&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:100%;"  &gt;If you do and its with me...it takes a while i mean awhile till i'll let you in my good books.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:100%;"  &gt;-I don't like&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:100%;"  &gt;roses&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;!! Stop buying them for me!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;-I don't like being pushed around &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;-I don't like when people test my patience. I rarely get pissed but when i lose it, its almost always out of control&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;-I don't like men who are constantly jealous.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-I don't like confrontation. Not that I can't handle it. I just feel there other means to settling a problem.If all else fails then maybe you can resort to something drastic&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-I don't like drama queens. Its not always about ya'll!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-I don't like to be forced out of my slumber. It'll just whack out my whole day. I'd be literally in a bad mood the through day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-I don't like when people accuse or attack my family. I get really protective&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-I don't like indecisive people. Make up your mind ahh HALO!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-I don't like jelly like food or things or animal..UGH!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-I don't like girlie girls with their wispy voices. They're just acting innocent when in actual fact they're as bad or worse than some of us loud,forward talking girls&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-I don't like Malaysian drivers. Its fact they're all shit drivers&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-I don't like snobby people&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-I don't like disrespectful people&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-I don't like wannabe Don Juan's. Please ahh go check the mirror!! You think you so hot is it!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-I don't like when people repeat vicious cycle. Be it from cheating on their gf coz in the past their exs cheated on them or beating up a child just because they came from an abused background. PLease grow a PAIR!!! Life is a cycle! You do one today you'll get yours another day! KHARMA DARLING!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've run out of things to not like. I swear before i started i had tonnes..I guess train ran out of steam hahhah&lt;br /&gt;&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/3612643916008957855-4603209284115378376?l=basketcase-elly.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://basketcase-elly.blogspot.com/feeds/4603209284115378376/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3612643916008957855&amp;postID=4603209284115378376' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3612643916008957855/posts/default/4603209284115378376'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3612643916008957855/posts/default/4603209284115378376'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://basketcase-elly.blogspot.com/2009/02/i-dont.html' title='I don&apos;t..'/><author><name>Elly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17099501318565717673</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_bTW_dG0ox6s/SU29fWx6bkI/AAAAAAAAAKQ/rldpBh-7HbE/S220/P1030239.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_bTW_dG0ox6s/SZWg1I3j9YI/AAAAAAAAALw/_CExmNLA5BA/s72-c/noentry' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3612643916008957855.post-8391695042947872810</id><published>2009-02-12T15:08:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2009-02-12T15:22:03.682+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Roll with Lego</title><content type='html'>&lt;object height="344" width="425"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;I've always like lego but when i recently found all this lil stop motion video of lego man..i'm obsessed! so here they are more lego shows..enjoy&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/JS-l-Te522c&amp;amp;hl=en&amp;amp;fs=1"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/JS-l-Te522c&amp;amp;hl=en&amp;amp;fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/mz86wZbyITU&amp;amp;hl=en&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/mz86wZbyITU&amp;amp;hl=en&amp;amp;fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" height="344" width="425"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3612643916008957855-8391695042947872810?l=basketcase-elly.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://basketcase-elly.blogspot.com/feeds/8391695042947872810/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3612643916008957855&amp;postID=8391695042947872810' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3612643916008957855/posts/default/8391695042947872810'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3612643916008957855/posts/default/8391695042947872810'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://basketcase-elly.blogspot.com/2009/02/roll-with-lego.html' title='Roll with Lego'/><author><name>Elly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17099501318565717673</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_bTW_dG0ox6s/SU29fWx6bkI/AAAAAAAAAKQ/rldpBh-7HbE/S220/P1030239.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3612643916008957855.post-4971286033519819186</id><published>2009-02-03T20:19:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2009-02-03T20:19:53.942+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Lego !!!!</title><content type='html'>&lt;object width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/CgEIGx0JKL8&amp;amp;hl=en&amp;amp;fs=1"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/CgEIGx0JKL8&amp;amp;hl=en&amp;amp;fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3612643916008957855-4971286033519819186?l=basketcase-elly.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://basketcase-elly.blogspot.com/feeds/4971286033519819186/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3612643916008957855&amp;postID=4971286033519819186' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3612643916008957855/posts/default/4971286033519819186'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3612643916008957855/posts/default/4971286033519819186'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://basketcase-elly.blogspot.com/2009/02/lego.html' title='Lego !!!!'/><author><name>Elly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17099501318565717673</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_bTW_dG0ox6s/SU29fWx6bkI/AAAAAAAAAKQ/rldpBh-7HbE/S220/P1030239.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3612643916008957855.post-8744919872889686116</id><published>2009-02-03T01:10:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2009-02-03T02:38:55.684+08:00</updated><title type='text'>What i miss most..</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_bTW_dG0ox6s/SYcsByCnHBI/AAAAAAAAALo/WsfCO_SWc4g/s1600-h/P1030395.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 216px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_bTW_dG0ox6s/SYcsByCnHBI/AAAAAAAAALo/WsfCO_SWc4g/s320/P1030395.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5298251895748893714" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;It's those little things that make you miss wanting to be with someone but it doesn't necessarily mean a relationship. It could be with a close friend or someone you have a passion and connection for. A certain someone you can actually enjoy those little things with.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Little things like going to cafe' and enjoying a cup of coffee and talk for hours on end about everything and nothing. Going to music stores and looking and listening to records that we 'd both like and go bonkers for.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sitting on a couch and just cuddle and take in the silence and enjoying each others company. Holding hands on a cold night and walking close to keep warm. Long drives to no where, with good music blaring on the radio and singing to our hearts content or just keeping quiet and listen to the music.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Travel to a quiet island with nothing to do but laze in the sun and swim in the sea. Kissing for hours and just enjoying the taste and passion of each other's lips and feel the raw emotions of being close and connected. Staying in at home &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;together&lt;/span&gt; on a quiet &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Sunday&lt;/span&gt; and just cook a feast and just eat between the two of us. Trying out hats and shoes and parading in front of one another.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;Ahh&lt;/span&gt; the joy of those little things...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3612643916008957855-8744919872889686116?l=basketcase-elly.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://basketcase-elly.blogspot.com/feeds/8744919872889686116/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3612643916008957855&amp;postID=8744919872889686116' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3612643916008957855/posts/default/8744919872889686116'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3612643916008957855/posts/default/8744919872889686116'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://basketcase-elly.blogspot.com/2009/02/what-i-miss-most.html' title='What i miss most..'/><author><name>Elly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17099501318565717673</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_bTW_dG0ox6s/SU29fWx6bkI/AAAAAAAAAKQ/rldpBh-7HbE/S220/P1030239.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_bTW_dG0ox6s/SYcsByCnHBI/AAAAAAAAALo/WsfCO_SWc4g/s72-c/P1030395.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3612643916008957855.post-4072246270159045415</id><published>2009-01-30T22:42:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2009-01-30T23:20:33.993+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Get OFF my seat!</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;The whole week has been filled with utter randomness. Women drama.Odd calls.stupid french director with mindless comments.Pranked date by a friend. Utter weirdness! sheesh..&lt;br /&gt;To add to the whole lot, at dinner I was chased out of my seat by an old lady.*laughs* Speak of randomness.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I went down to a cafe nearby to get some dinner.When i got there it was empty.It was just the cashier and the waiter. I sat right next to a wall facing the tv. Ordered my dinner and doing my own thing.Suddenly, I saw this old disheveled lady come in and walked right at me.Naturally i thought she was one of those unfortunate homeless people. I got my coin pouch out so I could give her some change.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When she finally got to my table, she muttered something. I couldnt hear her and i asked her to repeat what she said. Then she said "Get off my seat!!".Here I was blardy hungry and all stressed out about my postponed interview, I couldn't register what was happening to me then. I looked up at her..all confused..and speechless..Then she said it again "Get off my seat!" and gestured me to get off.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I looked around and i saw all the empty seats in the cafe and I couldn't understand why she wanted mine. Bewildered and dumbfounded I got up instantly and sat at another table. All the time shaking my head out of disbelieve.When i was done with dinner and went up to pay I asked the cashier who she was? Apparently she comes every other day to watch tv and she always sat at that chair. Gangster ahh..*laughs*&lt;br /&gt;&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/3612643916008957855-4072246270159045415?l=basketcase-elly.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://basketcase-elly.blogspot.com/feeds/4072246270159045415/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3612643916008957855&amp;postID=4072246270159045415' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3612643916008957855/posts/default/4072246270159045415'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3612643916008957855/posts/default/4072246270159045415'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://basketcase-elly.blogspot.com/2009/01/get-off-my-seat.html' title='Get OFF my seat!'/><author><name>Elly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17099501318565717673</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_bTW_dG0ox6s/SU29fWx6bkI/AAAAAAAAAKQ/rldpBh-7HbE/S220/P1030239.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3612643916008957855.post-7245831545708695424</id><published>2009-01-23T03:06:00.007+08:00</published><updated>2009-01-26T01:45:36.626+08:00</updated><title type='text'>27</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;font-size:100%;" &gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_bTW_dG0ox6s/SXjDyo6IAfI/AAAAAAAAALg/fIFMYQKxCcQ/s1600-h/me3.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 206px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_bTW_dG0ox6s/SXjDyo6IAfI/AAAAAAAAALg/fIFMYQKxCcQ/s320/me3.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5294196636716106226" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: trebuchet ms;font-family:'trebuchet ms';font-size:100%;"  &gt;It's odd that people would think, I'd be bummed up turning 27. Honestly, I'm alright.Ok ok i have to admit that I did go through the whole &lt;span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(51, 153, 153);"&gt;"Crap i'm turning 25...and hitting the 1/4 century mark"&lt;/span&gt; panic. But after going through loads of shit for the past couple of years, I thought i'd ought to look at it in a different perspective. You don't celebrate your birthday all the time..It's a gift. Every second..minute..hour..day.. is something we shouldn't take for-granted.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Every time it comes, you look around and you see the people you love and care..are there for you. Making your day the best day you could ever have.Celebrating your existence. It'll be heart breaking that on your big day you're not rejoicing with them..&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(153, 51, 0);"&gt;RIGHT?!&lt;/span&gt;! So &lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 102, 0);"&gt;yay!&lt;/span&gt; to another year gained.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 102, 0);"&gt;Yay!&lt;/span&gt; to a new start! &lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 102, 0);"&gt;Yey!&lt;/span&gt; to new friends and &lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 102, 0);"&gt;YEY!&lt;/span&gt; to new adventure.Cheers to all who are about to embark on a new adventure.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;                                                                      &lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 102, 102);"&gt;                (photo credit: Encek Khairul)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style=";font-size:100%;" &gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style=";font-size:100%;" &gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style=";font-size:100%;" &gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3612643916008957855-7245831545708695424?l=basketcase-elly.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://basketcase-elly.blogspot.com/feeds/7245831545708695424/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3612643916008957855&amp;postID=7245831545708695424' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3612643916008957855/posts/default/7245831545708695424'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3612643916008957855/posts/default/7245831545708695424'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://basketcase-elly.blogspot.com/2009/01/27.html' title='27'/><author><name>Elly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17099501318565717673</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_bTW_dG0ox6s/SU29fWx6bkI/AAAAAAAAAKQ/rldpBh-7HbE/S220/P1030239.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_bTW_dG0ox6s/SXjDyo6IAfI/AAAAAAAAALg/fIFMYQKxCcQ/s72-c/me3.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3612643916008957855.post-4152007741495530605</id><published>2009-01-14T23:34:00.006+08:00</published><updated>2009-01-15T00:06:24.622+08:00</updated><title type='text'>The bad days..</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_bTW_dG0ox6s/SW4GOAK3qKI/AAAAAAAAALY/vD61fNIOIOc/s1600-h/n752723153_1789701_4001.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_bTW_dG0ox6s/SW4GOAK3qKI/AAAAAAAAALY/vD61fNIOIOc/s320/n752723153_1789701_4001.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5291173449840437410" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'trebuchet ms'; font-size: 13px;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(102, 102, 102);"&gt;(photo courtesy : cik baby)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(102, 102, 102);"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'trebuchet ms'; font-size: 13px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'trebuchet ms'; font-size: 13px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'trebuchet ms'; font-size: 13px;"&gt;When dark clouds rolls in..and the day is grey. You can't help but feel a little bit down. Everything you do doesn't seem to be right. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'trebuchet ms'; font-size: 13px;"&gt;You don't know what to do with your day.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'trebuchet ms'; font-size: 13px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'trebuchet ms'; font-size: 13px;"&gt;Whether you wanna go out or stay in or just stay all cuddled up in bed wallow in your sorrows. Frankly, wallowing is &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(204, 51, 204);"&gt;SoooOOOo OVERATED!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'trebuchet ms'; font-size: 13px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'trebuchet ms'; font-size: 13px;"&gt;My solution to all my grey days for the past year has been &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;DANCING!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'trebuchet ms'; font-size: 13px;"&gt;If I'm at home, I'd put on &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(255, 102, 0);"&gt;THE CURE-Friday I'm in Love&lt;/span&gt; and just shake my ass off *laughs*&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'trebuchet ms'; font-size: 13px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'trebuchet ms'; font-size: 13px;"&gt;If i decided to go out for a drive, I'd be bobbing my head to&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(255, 102, 0);"&gt; THOSE DANCING DAYS-Actionman&lt;/span&gt;. I swear motorist would think i'm absolutely bonkers &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;BUT&lt;/span&gt; i could care less.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'trebuchet ms'; font-size: 13px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'trebuchet ms'; font-size: 13px;"&gt;Dancing and shaking to your heart's content is such a good way to release what ever negative vibes you may have around you. I'd feel absolutely delirious after and ready to get out again to face what ever demons I might have. So i say, shake your ass people. I mean if it doesn't make you any happy at least you'd lose some pounds doing it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'trebuchet ms'; font-size: 13px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&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/3612643916008957855-4152007741495530605?l=basketcase-elly.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://basketcase-elly.blogspot.com/feeds/4152007741495530605/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3612643916008957855&amp;postID=4152007741495530605' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3612643916008957855/posts/default/4152007741495530605'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3612643916008957855/posts/default/4152007741495530605'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://basketcase-elly.blogspot.com/2009/01/bad-days.html' title='The bad days..'/><author><name>Elly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17099501318565717673</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_bTW_dG0ox6s/SU29fWx6bkI/AAAAAAAAAKQ/rldpBh-7HbE/S220/P1030239.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_bTW_dG0ox6s/SW4GOAK3qKI/AAAAAAAAALY/vD61fNIOIOc/s72-c/n752723153_1789701_4001.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3612643916008957855.post-4240005205079194401</id><published>2009-01-11T02:59:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2009-01-11T03:05:33.199+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Master Oogway..</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_bTW_dG0ox6s/SWjxRAJKnPI/AAAAAAAAALQ/HrfCYicXAw4/s1600-h/turtle.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 193px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_bTW_dG0ox6s/SWjxRAJKnPI/AAAAAAAAALQ/HrfCYicXAw4/s400/turtle.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5289743036745161970" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(51, 51, 153);"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;"Yesterday is history,tomorrow is a mystery.But today is a gift,that's why they call it present.."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;-Master Oogway-Kung Fu Panda&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"&gt;I cracked up when i saw this quote on Marcell's blog. It's just soo funny and right at the same time. Pretty much summed up how i currently feel.&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/3612643916008957855-4240005205079194401?l=basketcase-elly.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://basketcase-elly.blogspot.com/feeds/4240005205079194401/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3612643916008957855&amp;postID=4240005205079194401' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3612643916008957855/posts/default/4240005205079194401'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3612643916008957855/posts/default/4240005205079194401'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://basketcase-elly.blogspot.com/2009/01/master-oogway.html' title='Master Oogway..'/><author><name>Elly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17099501318565717673</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_bTW_dG0ox6s/SU29fWx6bkI/AAAAAAAAAKQ/rldpBh-7HbE/S220/P1030239.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_bTW_dG0ox6s/SWjxRAJKnPI/AAAAAAAAALQ/HrfCYicXAw4/s72-c/turtle.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3612643916008957855.post-5811280976274944659</id><published>2009-01-06T01:39:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2009-01-06T03:12:23.263+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Wanting to trust</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_bTW_dG0ox6s/SWJF4kC8hkI/AAAAAAAAALI/oP5aMwJ5Bvs/s1600-h/Trust_Me__by_winst.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 242px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_bTW_dG0ox6s/SWJF4kC8hkI/AAAAAAAAALI/oP5aMwJ5Bvs/s320/Trust_Me__by_winst.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5287865750537406018" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'trebuchet ms';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(102, 102, 102);"&gt;(artwork by winst from deviantart)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(102, 102, 102); font-family: 'trebuchet ms'; font-size: 10px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(102, 102, 102); font-family: 'trebuchet ms'; font-size: 10px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'trebuchet ms'; font-size: 13px;"&gt;To trust is a big thing. It sits on par with commitment. You pick who you trust and when you do you never question their credibility unless something major happens. They're the ones you go to for almost everything. Seeking wisdom,opinions or just a shoulder to cry on. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'trebuchet ms'; font-size: 13px;"&gt;They are the ones you can count on..&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'trebuchet ms'; font-size: 13px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'trebuchet ms'; font-size: 13px;"&gt;Nowdays, I noticed people don't care anymore.To earn someone's trust means absolutely nothing. There is no value to trust. There is no care on wanting to earn or keep a person's trust. It's as if its fine to just betray it all. Its as if its fine to hurt others so carelessly with every actions and every word. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'trebuchet ms'; font-size: 13px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'trebuchet ms'; font-size: 13px;"&gt;Of late the issue of trust has been a constant battle for me. I'm always hesitant on letting the real me out. Which at the moment, I personally think its the wises thing I've done so far. I just feel I can't trust anyone. It's just been a back to back thing..this trust issues. I've been reassessing everyone and everything in my life. Who to trust..who to keep close..who to let go. Minus-ing out all the drama. Keeping it simple and honest. Why? Maybe I've been rather picky. Maybe I've just been let down left right and centre that I stopped wanting to trust. Maybe my guard is setup way up high. I just don't know anymore. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'trebuchet ms'; font-size: 13px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'trebuchet ms'; font-size: 13px;"&gt;To be honest Im just tired. I just want to go with it..as they say it here .."layan je" . Take my time with everything.If it gets too much I'd just back off. Lately, it has been too much. All the absurd things happening is just too ridiculous to figure out. To hell with it all..i'm just going to take it one at a time..&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/3612643916008957855-5811280976274944659?l=basketcase-elly.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://basketcase-elly.blogspot.com/feeds/5811280976274944659/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3612643916008957855&amp;postID=5811280976274944659' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3612643916008957855/posts/default/5811280976274944659'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3612643916008957855/posts/default/5811280976274944659'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://basketcase-elly.blogspot.com/2009/01/wanting-to-trust.html' title='Wanting to trust'/><author><name>Elly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17099501318565717673</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_bTW_dG0ox6s/SU29fWx6bkI/AAAAAAAAAKQ/rldpBh-7HbE/S220/P1030239.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_bTW_dG0ox6s/SWJF4kC8hkI/AAAAAAAAALI/oP5aMwJ5Bvs/s72-c/Trust_Me__by_winst.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3612643916008957855.post-4694329862417842355</id><published>2008-12-27T19:19:00.004+08:00</published><updated>2008-12-27T20:28:52.026+08:00</updated><title type='text'>My favourite man</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_bTW_dG0ox6s/SVYPYjSu5-I/AAAAAAAAALA/gyed7o6dpqo/s1600-h/favmen.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 214px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_bTW_dG0ox6s/SVYPYjSu5-I/AAAAAAAAALA/gyed7o6dpqo/s320/favmen.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5284428127230945250" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div&gt;                                                                             &lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:x-small;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:x-small;"&gt;( Photo credit to netherlands.lookbook.nu ) &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style=" ;font-family:'trebuchet ms';font-size:9px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style=" ;font-family:'trebuchet ms';font-size:9px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style=" "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;Going through this website called Lookbook. It's like facebook but it focuses more on individual with fashion in mind. They put up visuals of what they like to wear or what interest them in fashion. I'm completely in love with this website. Thanks MISS Lin for introducing me to this site. I"m completely &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;obsessed.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;Anyway, was scrolling through and i saw this guy ( image right ) Ok shallow time, he would be the most ideal looking man for me. Everything about him physically, is what i look at in a man.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;Right kind of skinny. Right kind of built. His fashion sense is just right!!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;where oh where can i find this man!!! Here's hoping for more men like this in 2009. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3612643916008957855-4694329862417842355?l=basketcase-elly.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://basketcase-elly.blogspot.com/feeds/4694329862417842355/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3612643916008957855&amp;postID=4694329862417842355' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3612643916008957855/posts/default/4694329862417842355'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3612643916008957855/posts/default/4694329862417842355'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://basketcase-elly.blogspot.com/2008/12/my-favourite-man.html' title='My favourite man'/><author><name>Elly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17099501318565717673</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_bTW_dG0ox6s/SU29fWx6bkI/AAAAAAAAAKQ/rldpBh-7HbE/S220/P1030239.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_bTW_dG0ox6s/SVYPYjSu5-I/AAAAAAAAALA/gyed7o6dpqo/s72-c/favmen.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3612643916008957855.post-8636266338407950072</id><published>2008-12-23T19:14:00.004+08:00</published><updated>2008-12-23T21:57:49.015+08:00</updated><title type='text'>the end..</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_bTW_dG0ox6s/SVDIoWveTRI/AAAAAAAAAKw/SKD6eWgX6Wg/s1600-h/stage.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 218px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_bTW_dG0ox6s/SVDIoWveTRI/AAAAAAAAAKw/SKD6eWgX6Wg/s320/stage.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5282942958530612498" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:13px;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"&gt;Another week and 2008 comes to an end. When I look back, its just so surreal how time just flies. Part of me is glad that it came and went just like that but another part dreads the end.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style=" ;font-family:'trebuchet ms';font-size:13px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style=" ;font-family:'trebuchet ms';font-size:13px;"&gt;I'm not one to reminisce but for 2008,it has been quite an adventure. Both good and bad. Most of all, I found a little of myself then i have in the past years and Im glad.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style=" ;font-family:'trebuchet ms';font-size:13px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style=" ;font-family:'trebuchet ms';font-size:13px;"&gt;Simplicity and reality has been the guiding force for this year. After the whole debacle with the ex, I've decided to not load myself with such enormous burden unless necessary. Taking my time in everything be it work..friends..or love. I've made a promise to not bulldoze into something i have no actual grasp on. Sticking to it has brought me much happiness.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style=" ;font-family:'trebuchet ms';font-size:13px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style=" ;font-family:'trebuchet ms';font-size:13px;"&gt;Looking and living through a fresh perspective, has made me more patient, tolerant and slightly more forgiving of people's ignorance and idiocies ( yes girls, i'm working on my forgiving bit, not easy i'd might add ). There has been moments that i had to undergo such bewilderment. To this day i still shake my head to it when ever i recall the incident.I guess i believe and have to much hope in the goodness of people.Then again, changing a person is never my thing.I discoverd by saying things as it is and calling off all &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(204, 0, 0);"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Bullshit&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; has lifted the curtain of misconception and the idealism of how life should be. Most of the time, I feel like the shot above. I pace myself in order to see what is real and what is not.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style=" ;font-family:'trebuchet ms';font-size:13px;"&gt;The stillness of it all before all hell breaks loose. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style=" ;font-family:'trebuchet ms';font-size:13px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style=" ;font-family:'trebuchet ms';font-size:13px;"&gt;No more fairy-tale and romanticism. No more being sucked and pressured into doing something. No more pleasing the society. No more blending in. No more disrespect. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style=" ;font-family:'trebuchet ms';font-size:13px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style=" ;font-family:'trebuchet ms';font-size:13px;"&gt;Living life real,simple,honest and with my instinct...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style=" ;font-family:'trebuchet ms';font-size:13px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3612643916008957855-8636266338407950072?l=basketcase-elly.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://basketcase-elly.blogspot.com/feeds/8636266338407950072/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3612643916008957855&amp;postID=8636266338407950072' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3612643916008957855/posts/default/8636266338407950072'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3612643916008957855/posts/default/8636266338407950072'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://basketcase-elly.blogspot.com/2008/12/end.html' title='the end..'/><author><name>Elly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17099501318565717673</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_bTW_dG0ox6s/SU29fWx6bkI/AAAAAAAAAKQ/rldpBh-7HbE/S220/P1030239.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_bTW_dG0ox6s/SVDIoWveTRI/AAAAAAAAAKw/SKD6eWgX6Wg/s72-c/stage.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3612643916008957855.post-2020930983094248437</id><published>2008-12-13T02:02:00.006+08:00</published><updated>2008-12-14T10:54:54.411+08:00</updated><title type='text'>When we are wise..</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_bTW_dG0ox6s/SUNne9y8lAI/AAAAAAAAAJY/oNRPplPBLGY/s1600-h/Dunhill+Pure+Cologne+by+Alfred+Dunhill+for+Men.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 200px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_bTW_dG0ox6s/SUNne9y8lAI/AAAAAAAAAJY/oNRPplPBLGY/s200/Dunhill+Pure+Cologne+by+Alfred+Dunhill+for+Men.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5279176969890337794" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style=" ;font-family:'trebuchet ms';font-size:small;"&gt;Remember when you were a lot younger there were certain &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 102);"&gt;things..scent..colours&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; that you didn't particularly like. You'd frown when ever you &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(102, 51, 102);"&gt;see...touch..or smell&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; those particular things. When I was in my younger years..i &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;disliked&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; anything colourful. Pretty much stayed with black,blue,brown and white most of my life. I &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;disliked&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; any scent that was musky or flowery..I find it tickled my nose. I &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;disliked&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; most things bombarded with flowers. Especially those Italian wooden chair, the type of chair you would find in a typical malay house. Gaudy looking, with bright mismatch colour and patterns.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style=" ;font-family:'trebuchet ms';font-size:13px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style=" ;font-family:'trebuchet ms';font-size:13px;"&gt;As i grew wiser, I notice some of my dislikes faded but some stayed. My dislikes for colourful clothing went by like a flash. I now am a colourful believer. My dislikes for those Italian furniture sadly, still remains. Personally, I feel the person who came up with those furniture designs were either blind or drunk when he was drawing up the idea. I still don't understand why all the local big shots and wealthy still buy those hideous looking excuse for a furniture.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style=" ;font-family:'trebuchet ms';font-size:13px;"&gt;I guess with money doesn't mean you get style. &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(51, 204, 0);"&gt;Ah well..god is fair.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style=" ;font-family:'trebuchet ms';font-size:13px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style=" ;font-family:'trebuchet ms';font-size:13px;"&gt;The most recent thing I found out and could knock off my dislike list is the scent of musk. I found that I'm rather alright with it. I thought as i grew wiser, I'd still have a slight distaste towards it but yah amazingly i was fine. Nose didn't tickled. Didn't sneeze a frenzy. I was utterly captivated by the smell. Maybe because it was on a man's neck when i smelled it. When I caught a whiff of that scent, I was bemused. I quickly asked him what brand of perfume it was..and he answered &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(153, 153, 0);"&gt;"Dunhill"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; and i was shocked. Never in a million years I'd thought i'd be utterly captivated let alone wanting to smell more of this scent.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style=" ;font-family:'trebuchet ms';font-size:13px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style=" ;font-family:'trebuchet ms';font-size:13px;"&gt;When I told my "discovery" to my friend she said &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(102, 102, 0);"&gt;" We're just getting old dear"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; and laughed. Stating that, she solved the mystery..&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/3612643916008957855-2020930983094248437?l=basketcase-elly.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://basketcase-elly.blogspot.com/feeds/2020930983094248437/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3612643916008957855&amp;postID=2020930983094248437' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3612643916008957855/posts/default/2020930983094248437'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3612643916008957855/posts/default/2020930983094248437'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://basketcase-elly.blogspot.com/2008/12/when-we-are-wise.html' title='When we are wise..'/><author><name>Elly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17099501318565717673</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_bTW_dG0ox6s/SU29fWx6bkI/AAAAAAAAAKQ/rldpBh-7HbE/S220/P1030239.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_bTW_dG0ox6s/SUNne9y8lAI/AAAAAAAAAJY/oNRPplPBLGY/s72-c/Dunhill+Pure+Cologne+by+Alfred+Dunhill+for+Men.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3612643916008957855.post-3764355356106079238</id><published>2008-11-29T23:30:00.004+08:00</published><updated>2008-12-22T13:24:19.962+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Something about music..</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_bTW_dG0ox6s/SU8keWhYuaI/AAAAAAAAAKo/5074f8yZ2PM/s1600-h/c.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 202px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_bTW_dG0ox6s/SU8keWhYuaI/AAAAAAAAAKo/5074f8yZ2PM/s320/c.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5282480991789169058" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I love love love music...I can't live without it. It's like an extension of me. It says things i can't say.When ever i share music with someone , its my way of saying you matter to me. And if i sing to them..and i look them right into their eyes...i want them to see my soul. It my grand gesture so to speak. Because of that i go to great length to find songs that speaks..not just to me but to the people i care...and love. &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Constantly looking for good music gives me the drive to wake up every morning and live. Now being here in Melbourne, I feel like crying. There's good music everywhere. You switch on the radio...there it is GOOD BLARDY MUSIC!!! You go out and there it is at the corner of your house, a great cafe with excellent latte!!!! and a KICK ASS Record store!!! and the weather!!! sheessh absolutely FANTASTIQUE!!!! ( with a slight aussie accent ) . Dont' get me started with the creative environment here. It's just so positive. They take music and art seriously that at times i had to pinch myself. Im really dreading leaving..I'm seriously considering moving here..and im not kidding.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Everything here seems to just fit. Everything make sense. The best thing, you feel like you matter people take you seriously when you talk about concepts. Is just so refreshing that they're not all agro and egoistical. Everything seems much clearer now. It's just simple..&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3612643916008957855-3764355356106079238?l=basketcase-elly.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://basketcase-elly.blogspot.com/feeds/3764355356106079238/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3612643916008957855&amp;postID=3764355356106079238' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3612643916008957855/posts/default/3764355356106079238'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3612643916008957855/posts/default/3764355356106079238'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://basketcase-elly.blogspot.com/2008/11/something-about-music.html' title='Something about music..'/><author><name>Elly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17099501318565717673</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_bTW_dG0ox6s/SU29fWx6bkI/AAAAAAAAAKQ/rldpBh-7HbE/S220/P1030239.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_bTW_dG0ox6s/SU8keWhYuaI/AAAAAAAAAKo/5074f8yZ2PM/s72-c/c.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3612643916008957855.post-7587760014951759821</id><published>2008-11-27T01:03:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2008-11-29T23:27:23.704+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Change..</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'trebuchet ms';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;What is Change?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'trebuchet ms';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;  according to the dictionary,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(102, 102, 0);"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'trebuchet ms';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(255, 102, 0);"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'trebuchet ms';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;change is : to make or become different&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'trebuchet ms';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;. When do you change?, for who would you change? and for what cause would you change? I find it these days, people change for absolutely absurd reasons. Most of the time it occurs when they're in a relationship. They change for their loves ones because they feel it'll help the relationship. When almost every time, it doesn't because the basis of the relationship was made on something unreal.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For me change or wanting to be different has to come on its own. It's something i believe that you can not and must not force. When it does not come on its own free will, it'll never work. It will never be honest. It won't be you...Why change in the first place when what made you was the one that sold you to your other half..friends or family.. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(255, 102, 0);"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'trebuchet ms';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;I believe that you weren't made solely to complete someone's life but rather be an accompaniment&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'trebuchet ms';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;. I'd want to be with someone, who'd respect me for me and love me for me. Take me with all my messiness (if there's such a word ) especially my hair.. yes its messy at the back &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(204, 0, 0);"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'trebuchet ms';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;DEAL WITH IT!!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'trebuchet ms';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;, the fact that i don't wear make up all the time but only on special occassions. Take me with all my absurd constant mumblings of everything and nothing. And no i will not wear those cute cheerleader skirts coz you think its cute!!!! Shut it! and the list goes on... *laughs* But yah..why change the essence that makes you..you.. The constant struggle of wanting to be liked and needed..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've come to a stage in my life, where i know what i want and i'm not afraid to say what i want. Enough with all the sugar coating &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(204, 0, 0);"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'trebuchet ms';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;BULLSHIT&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'trebuchet ms';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;. It'll be much simpler if everything is laid out and explained slowly. And if they can't accept it, its fine. It's not the end of the world...(though at time it feels like it) but yah..pick yourself up..dust yourself off..and walk up..is all you can do.&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/3612643916008957855-7587760014951759821?l=basketcase-elly.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://basketcase-elly.blogspot.com/feeds/7587760014951759821/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3612643916008957855&amp;postID=7587760014951759821' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3612643916008957855/posts/default/7587760014951759821'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3612643916008957855/posts/default/7587760014951759821'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://basketcase-elly.blogspot.com/2008/11/change.html' title='Change..'/><author><name>Elly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17099501318565717673</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_bTW_dG0ox6s/SU29fWx6bkI/AAAAAAAAAKQ/rldpBh-7HbE/S220/P1030239.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3612643916008957855.post-7064722195979624762</id><published>2008-11-20T02:22:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2008-11-26T17:21:16.623+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='character'/><title type='text'>Friendly or too friendly?</title><content type='html'>I've always had this problem where people tend to misread my friendly ways. Some perceived it as being flirty. Granted at some point I can be a big flirt at times but to only quiet guys. I don't know why I do it maybe just to make the guy feel alil at ease with himself or maybe i simply like quiet guys or maybe im just plainly trying to make friends.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;so yah my question , where do you draw the line between friendly and being too friendly? I've gone out with some men where by just rubbing their backs is considered as being too friendly.That act alone then was perceived as a sign of interest on my part. When in actual fact, is just how i show care and warmth. Even hugging now is considered too friendly. Ok given, it is not in our malay/islamic culture to hug another men who are not our 'muhrim'. Fine i'm modern , but yah trivial things such as that gets you in a loop.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At times, it gets really tiring for me to proof to people that things are not how it seems. Constantly stating that i'm not interested with the man i was friendly with. Is just odd that you constantly have to justify your actions. For me to like someone as in really like takes alot.. I could fall for them there and then and not tell them because i simply want to digest it all. Usually the one i like..i rarely show much coz i'm usually the last to know when it comes to the liking department. Yes! that's how blur i can get but that doesn't mean that by me being kind..warm..caring and friendly is a sign of flirtations. Ah well..guess sometimes it is how it is..you just cant change people's mind..&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3612643916008957855-7064722195979624762?l=basketcase-elly.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://basketcase-elly.blogspot.com/feeds/7064722195979624762/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3612643916008957855&amp;postID=7064722195979624762' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3612643916008957855/posts/default/7064722195979624762'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3612643916008957855/posts/default/7064722195979624762'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://basketcase-elly.blogspot.com/2008/11/friendly-or-too-friendly.html' title='Friendly or too friendly?'/><author><name>Elly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17099501318565717673</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_bTW_dG0ox6s/SU29fWx6bkI/AAAAAAAAAKQ/rldpBh-7HbE/S220/P1030239.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3612643916008957855.post-7781070281190932630</id><published>2008-11-05T21:01:00.004+08:00</published><updated>2008-11-07T02:18:50.809+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='character'/><title type='text'>Yes!! you gotta Pay!!!</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;It sickens me to the bone, that my profession as a &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(204, 0, 0);"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;Designer&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt; is looked upon as 3rd rate in the profession pyramid. People here especially in &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(255, 102, 0);"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;South East Asia&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;, they don't give designers such as myself much credit. Just because we're not part of the &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(204, 0, 0);"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;golden professional trinity &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(204, 0, 0);"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;( doctors, lawyers &amp;amp; engineers )&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt; we don't deserve respect, better pay and better treatment. I've been in my industry for almost 5 years now and i've worked from the bottom. Everyday, from then is a constant struggle. We constantly have to deal with clients with &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(204, 0, 0);"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;issues of letting go&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;. Some of these clients, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(204, 0, 0);"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;don't understand&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt; how we function and work. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;They &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(204, 0, 0);"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;constantly bother&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt; you at every stage of the design process. They &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(204, 0, 0);"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;tell you&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt; how to do your work. What colors to choose. What concept to take. They demand &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(204, 0, 0);"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;unreasonable deadlines&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt; . They don't understand that good design takes time and when it involves print production in takes a minimum of 1 week and that is for offset. I find it absolutely redundant for them to hire a designer in the first place if they're gonna butt in all the time. If they can't trust a designer to do their job, don't hire one. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(204, 0, 0);"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;DO IT YOURSELF!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;You don't see the doctor and tell him how to do his job &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(204, 0, 0);"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;RIGHT!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt; You sit your ass down. You tell him what's wrong and he comes up with a diagnose and a prescription slip. Then out you go. You pay the man, business transaction complete. Why can't designer be treated as such? We do the job. Deliver it on time. Give you the best service money can buy but when it comes down to paying the bill, there's always problems. List of excuses i heard so far:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;1&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(51, 153, 153);"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;. How come so expensive?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(51, 153, 153);"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;2. Your design so simple what!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(51, 153, 153);"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;3. My boss not in to sign the cheques&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(51, 153, 153);"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;4. Can pay bit by bit ?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;and the list goes on. Boy i wish i'd get a dollar for every excuses i've heard. Another classic problem is when a client refuses to pay for your services just because they decided not to use your designs. I say &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(204, 0, 0);"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;BOLLOCKS!!!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt; I don't blardy care if you don't use it. You still have to &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(204, 0, 0);"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;PAY!!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt; Creative consultation doesn't come free &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(204, 0, 0);"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;YO!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt; My ideas are my bread and butter. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;Try going to a lawyer and ask for an advice. Then treat him as you treat a graphic designer. Do you think, he'd let you walk out of his office without charging you ass &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(255, 102, 0);"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;EVEN &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;though you disagreed with his advice / solution!!! No way in &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(255, 102, 0);"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;HELL&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;. Expect a bill coming your way.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;It is a service industry and it is subjective. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;All i ask is that, treat every profession with &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(255, 102, 0);"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;t&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(255, 102, 0);"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;rust and much respect&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;. Though they vary when placed side to side but they are specialist of their own sector. if you give them more, they will surprise you with their abilities. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3612643916008957855-7781070281190932630?l=basketcase-elly.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://basketcase-elly.blogspot.com/feeds/7781070281190932630/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3612643916008957855&amp;postID=7781070281190932630' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3612643916008957855/posts/default/7781070281190932630'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3612643916008957855/posts/default/7781070281190932630'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://basketcase-elly.blogspot.com/2008/11/yes-you-gotta-pay.html' title='Yes!! you gotta Pay!!!'/><author><name>Elly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17099501318565717673</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_bTW_dG0ox6s/SU29fWx6bkI/AAAAAAAAAKQ/rldpBh-7HbE/S220/P1030239.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3612643916008957855.post-7765812072159221112</id><published>2008-09-09T00:19:00.008+08:00</published><updated>2008-09-09T01:20:05.409+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='moving on'/><title type='text'>talk=not moving on???</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_bTW_dG0ox6s/SMVQymAdfrI/AAAAAAAAAGY/XoeKalKf-Fo/s1600-h/P1020068.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_bTW_dG0ox6s/SMVQymAdfrI/AAAAAAAAAGY/XoeKalKf-Fo/s320/P1020068.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5243686171268972210" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style=" ;font-family:'trebuchet ms';"&gt;Why is it when we talk about how we feel or when we unload certain emotions from our past, we're considered as &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0); "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style=" ;font-family:'trebuchet ms';"&gt;not moving on?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"&gt;I find this &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(51, 204, 0);"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"&gt;odd! &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color: rgb(51, 204, 0);  font-weight: bold;font-family:'trebuchet ms';"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"&gt;Is it a crime to talk about what hurt us in the past? Why do people automatically assume that when you talk about your past, you're still angry and bitter about it. Ok, granted some people might be angry or bitter about their past but you can't crucify everyone just because some&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(102, 0, 204);"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(102, 0, 204);"&gt;bad apple&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; feels absolutely betrayed by a certain someone from their past.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"&gt;I recently had a conversation with a friend about my past. At first it was alright but it became weird when the topic of &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(255, 102, 0);"&gt;moving on&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; came to play. He asked what made me moved on? I answered &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(153, 153, 0);"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;"I moved on because he (my ex) made me feel like a fool, so i decided to drop him coz he's not worth it"  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-weight: normal;"&gt;then my friend answered &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153);"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;"What's done is done..move on" &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-weight: normal;"&gt; When he said this, I couldn't help but feel &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(255, 153, 0);"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;"Huhh??" &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-weight: normal;"&gt; It was just odd for me, for him to assume that I haven't moved on. To make matters worse his assumption was based on a remark that was meant to set a record straight. In actual fact he knows i've been out dating and meeting new people. I find it weird that with what he knows, it got wiped cleaned because of my &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;unloading session.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color: rgb(255, 153, 0);  font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;font-family:'trebuchet ms';"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style=" ;font-family:'trebuchet ms';"&gt;Back to the question, &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 204, 204);"&gt;does talking about it = not moving on?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; If that's the case then we should kill all the psychiatrist. We don't need them because apparently it doesn't help to talk. It's better to shut up about it and let the sorrow eat you up inside out. I swear sometimes, the local culture is soo screwed up. You're &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(204, 0, 0);"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;not allowed&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; to voice your pain. You're &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(204, 0, 0);"&gt;not allowed&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; to voice your opinion. You're &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(204, 0, 0);"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;not allowed&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; to voice your apologies. What are you allowed to do? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"&gt;I say, screw it because we're human. We become better people by learning from our mistakes. Say what you need to say and let it out. If no one believes you..atleast the universe and god knows. I on the other hand am just gonna be me. I heal by unloading my feelings. It's been good for me so far. So i'm going to stick with it. I don't want the bitterness eating me inside out.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"&gt;I for one would like for someone to be upfront with their feelings..don't you..XOXO..&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3612643916008957855-7765812072159221112?l=basketcase-elly.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://basketcase-elly.blogspot.com/feeds/7765812072159221112/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3612643916008957855&amp;postID=7765812072159221112' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3612643916008957855/posts/default/7765812072159221112'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3612643916008957855/posts/default/7765812072159221112'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://basketcase-elly.blogspot.com/2008/09/talkednot-moving-on.html' title='talk=not moving on???'/><author><name>Elly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17099501318565717673</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_bTW_dG0ox6s/SU29fWx6bkI/AAAAAAAAAKQ/rldpBh-7HbE/S220/P1030239.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_bTW_dG0ox6s/SMVQymAdfrI/AAAAAAAAAGY/XoeKalKf-Fo/s72-c/P1020068.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3612643916008957855.post-5670934344861713629</id><published>2008-08-02T02:18:00.005+08:00</published><updated>2008-09-09T21:15:59.034+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Closure...</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"&gt;Its like Dave Grohl said &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 204, 204);"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"&gt;"Tonight Im tangled in my blanket of clouds ,Dreaming aloud,Things just wont do without you, matter of fact"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"&gt; I think I've fallen for someone. I know who he is but for now he'll remain anonymous. At first, I thought i was in love with a fictional version of him but after much much thought... I now know that its not true. I've always been in love with him. The him that gets me. The him that makes me laugh. The him that cared about what i thought, my passion. The him that wants and needs my attention (before everything when down the shit hole) The him that has groovy taste in clothes and shoes. The him that dances to jazz and loves Sinatra. The him that is funny and intelligent.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sadly, what ever i've realised...what ever i feel for him doesn't effect him. Probably at one point it did but now..I've barely made a dent. I want to let him go..even how i feel for him..but as big Dave said above, everything wouldn't be right. He's been there through out everything with me. He knows me in and out. I confided in him. Completely broke down in front of him. It just wouldn't be right but I can't just sit still and pretend that i feel absolutely nothing for him. Pretend to be ok when i see him. I hate that I can't be close to him and that I can't hold his hand or hug him.  Just tears me apart inside. So now, I've taken drastic measures. I made my own closure. I told him, well text him that I'm letting him go. I cant pretend..I just can't.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Some of you might disagree with my actions but I can't move anymore. I've made it simple. I've said what needs to be said to him.All my cards has been called..and it's all laying on the table. I've completely and emotionally humiliated myself but i'm not upset that i did all that because if i didn't then i wouldn't know that I'm Ok and that i'm over Kama and that in actual fact he wasn't the one i want most..it was another..I just realised it all too late..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is for you.. and you know who you are....To all the nights we hung out..the talks..driving around confiding to each other about anything and everything, the late phone calls, the night we fell asleep next to each other, the music we shared..Thank you for it all..and I wish for your happiness...I'm so sorry that i'm not strong enough to take this..&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/-2gfGp-6JEE&amp;amp;hl=en&amp;amp;fs=1"&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/-2gfGp-6JEE&amp;amp;hl=en&amp;amp;fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3612643916008957855-5670934344861713629?l=basketcase-elly.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://basketcase-elly.blogspot.com/feeds/5670934344861713629/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3612643916008957855&amp;postID=5670934344861713629' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3612643916008957855/posts/default/5670934344861713629'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3612643916008957855/posts/default/5670934344861713629'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://basketcase-elly.blogspot.com/2008/08/closure.html' title='Closure...'/><author><name>Elly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17099501318565717673</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_bTW_dG0ox6s/SU29fWx6bkI/AAAAAAAAAKQ/rldpBh-7HbE/S220/P1030239.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3612643916008957855.post-1864331852082954933</id><published>2008-07-25T02:03:00.004+08:00</published><updated>2008-12-10T11:19:10.874+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Visual'/><title type='text'>Driven by visuals</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_bTW_dG0ox6s/SIjEYcJU9yI/AAAAAAAAAE8/3VNFM-Y6wHs/s1600-h/makeupnnot.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_bTW_dG0ox6s/SIjEYcJU9yI/AAAAAAAAAE8/3VNFM-Y6wHs/s320/makeupnnot.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5226643291714680610" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'trebuchet ms';"&gt;( Image on the left is with make up and the right is without )&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Couple of nights back, was hanging out with some friends and we got to talking about appearances. Well actually they were talking about apperances, I was too hungry to be all bothered about it. Anyway, yah my friends were going at each other about how a woman should be. How they should look like and dress. At this point, I paid attention. One of my guy friends was explaining how things work for men. How they are very much driven by the&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'trebuchet ms';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153);"&gt; PACKAGE&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'trebuchet ms';"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He went on explaining about the &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'trebuchet ms';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153);"&gt;PACKAGE&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'trebuchet ms';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153);"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;saying that a man will pay more attention to a woman if she's well groomed. If she takes the time to sort out her hair make sure every strand is in place and that she wore some make up to enhance her beauty  ( my take on that is, &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(255, 102, 102);"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;"Hun you need to put more colour on your face to cover that tiredness"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;, in other words put your mask on ) and that she wore a more feminine outfit, like a dress or a pencil skirt with a &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153);"&gt;WHITE&lt;/span&gt; shirt.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;According to him, if a woman were to do the things he just mentioned, we could definetly get the attention of any men because they're simple creatures. For them a woman should be in this order &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'trebuchet ms';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153);"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;LOOKS-BRAIN-HEART&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'trebuchet ms';"&gt; anything besides that means absolutely nothing. You deliver those things in that order you'll get the man eating out of the palm of your hands.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When my friend was done explaining his theory, everyone at the table had mixed expression on their faces. Some agreed , some find it too complicated and some find it conniving . I fell in the category of conniving. Why you ask? well for me, my take in the whole thing is why does the man need for the woman to be all pretentious in order for him to feel something for her?&lt;br /&gt;Why does she has to look all made up for him to be interested in her? She is the same person she was before she put on that make up. Isn't her essence more important than her physique?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'd like the guy to get to know me and see me in my rawest form. Without make up just the naked me. Pure and simple. When I see that he has some sort of attraction towards me, I make myself more alluring. I wear nicer clothes put some make up. I do this gradually, in phases. I show him how'd i look like in different occasion. That i can clean up real well. I do this as form of reward for him because he appreciated me first at my purest state. That makes him one hell of a guy and that is rare...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3612643916008957855-1864331852082954933?l=basketcase-elly.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://basketcase-elly.blogspot.com/feeds/1864331852082954933/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3612643916008957855&amp;postID=1864331852082954933' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3612643916008957855/posts/default/1864331852082954933'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3612643916008957855/posts/default/1864331852082954933'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://basketcase-elly.blogspot.com/2008/07/driven-by-visuals.html' title='Driven by visuals'/><author><name>Elly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17099501318565717673</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_bTW_dG0ox6s/SU29fWx6bkI/AAAAAAAAAKQ/rldpBh-7HbE/S220/P1030239.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_bTW_dG0ox6s/SIjEYcJU9yI/AAAAAAAAAE8/3VNFM-Y6wHs/s72-c/makeupnnot.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3612643916008957855.post-7727926200526302345</id><published>2008-07-21T15:58:00.004+08:00</published><updated>2008-12-10T11:19:11.200+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Signs'/><title type='text'>Monster in law</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_bTW_dG0ox6s/SIRB-VelbEI/AAAAAAAAAEI/PCHx2_-zV9E/s1600-h/387px-Monster-in-Law_poster.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_bTW_dG0ox6s/SIRB-VelbEI/AAAAAAAAAEI/PCHx2_-zV9E/s320/387px-Monster-in-Law_poster.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5225374006829739074" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was watching  tv yesterday night and a trailer for this movie came on and i couldn't help but laugh. You see about a year ago I watched this with my ex's mother. Back then we ( my ex, his mother and i ) laughed about it and how it was absurd and that it would never happen to us. Boy was I wrong.  I should've  taken that movie as a sign coz what came after was absolute HELL!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Of course she didn't put me through the same ordeal as the movie but trust me it was equally bad. One thing i wished I had done, I wished I'd uphold my dignity. Show her what sort of person I am. Fight the way Jennifer Lopez did. Ohh I wished for that. Then again, Jennifer had a reason to fight coz her man stood by her where as mine well...he was tired. That meant the relationship won't work. So i gave up. I don't see the point of fighting for a relationship when my other half has already given up before the war even started.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The thing is how far can we fight. The sad thing about being asian is, if you were to pull the same stunt Jennifer pulled you would be labeled as the DEVIL WOMAN! and no way in hell would you be able to marry your man and if you did, she (mother in law) would make your life a living HELL! or worse they'd go to those kampung bomoh (witch doctors) and come back with all those voo doo crap! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When you think about it, marriage is scary. Not only do you have to tolerate a new environment, you have to tolerate all sort of bullshit from the immediate family. If you are a muslim girl is worse because you have to follow where ever you husband goes and normally at the beginning of the marriage you have to stay in his family home. That my friend is not a pretty  picture. When there's two alpha woman living under one roof, expect bad things to happen.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh well, Im glad that it didn't happen. I thank God everyday for protecting me. Shielding me from all the melodrama. Don't get me wrong it hurt as hell when it ended but at least i was spared a lifetime of sorrow. Many thanks to God!! I love you..&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3612643916008957855-7727926200526302345?l=basketcase-elly.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://basketcase-elly.blogspot.com/feeds/7727926200526302345/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3612643916008957855&amp;postID=7727926200526302345' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3612643916008957855/posts/default/7727926200526302345'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3612643916008957855/posts/default/7727926200526302345'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://basketcase-elly.blogspot.com/2008/07/monster-in-law.html' title='Monster in law'/><author><name>Elly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17099501318565717673</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_bTW_dG0ox6s/SU29fWx6bkI/AAAAAAAAAKQ/rldpBh-7HbE/S220/P1030239.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_bTW_dG0ox6s/SIRB-VelbEI/AAAAAAAAAEI/PCHx2_-zV9E/s72-c/387px-Monster-in-Law_poster.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3612643916008957855.post-4752301525690005243</id><published>2008-07-14T03:15:00.006+08:00</published><updated>2008-07-25T00:24:22.160+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='honesty'/><title type='text'>Sans Ego</title><content type='html'>What an eventful couple weeks. Loads of soul searching and reassessing life's decisions. When such days knocks on your door, the first thing you'd do is call up your girls and schedule a meeting. Meeting such as these you tend to discover what sort of person you are and what you've become. The sources are of course viable because its from those you care and love most.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was brought to my attention by my fellow love ones that I am an egoistical maniac. Not all the time though, only on certain matters and topic. The topic that day was men. So yah, that's where the ego kicks in rather high. Of late i can assure you, its only been on rather high alert after the recent break up.  Anyway, back to the issue at hand. I called the meeting to ask for some perspective on a recent unforeseen incident.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Recently, a very close friend made his feelings known to me and like a yellow bellied chicken i bolted because I was confused. SO i thought then ,actually i still don't know for sure if i'm not.  How did i ran you asked? Well, I did what any macho egoistical person would do. I say stupid things. The first stupid thing I said was " i was being a man, you wanted to give what I craved most. So like a man i took it"  The second one was " I think i have something for you but Im not sure and I don't think my head is screwed up right to figure it out just yet" ( you can actually scratch this out because my recent break up really did a number to my head ) . After all those macho cock up crap of an excuse, we both decided to lay low and just be there for one another. In other words our friendship was bigger than our feelings for one another.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But me being me, after the whole fiasco I kept thinking about it. I kept analyzing it. Wondered where i went wrong and what if.&lt;br /&gt;So that's where the counsel came in. Their take on the whole matter was I was cold and rather hard on the guy. They don't blame me though but they said that I should atleast try and put my ego aside and try again. Try talking to the man. Ask him out take it slow get to know each other in a different tune.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So i did just that. I put away the ego and strike up a small conversation with him. I manage to make myself ask him out but to no avail, he turned me down. He said that he's comfortable where is and with who he is now and that he's not ready. I tried to reason with him but he didnt' budge. I got rather emotional at the end ( we tend to do that when our guards are down, right girls ) and i said " Is it me? I don't fit your criteria? I guess you cant pursue someone if they don't want to be pursued". He didn't reply back to that remark and I took that as an end. I don't blame him though. I'd turned me down after the whole crap i said to him.  Well, from that incident, I've taken upon myself to just let it go. I tried. I tried to want to explore the feelings but it couldn't happen. Oh well, another chapter close. It's time to climb up again with my bruised up ego.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Role in the next drama...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3612643916008957855-4752301525690005243?l=basketcase-elly.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://basketcase-elly.blogspot.com/feeds/4752301525690005243/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3612643916008957855&amp;postID=4752301525690005243' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3612643916008957855/posts/default/4752301525690005243'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3612643916008957855/posts/default/4752301525690005243'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://basketcase-elly.blogspot.com/2008/07/sans-ego.html' title='Sans Ego'/><author><name>Elly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17099501318565717673</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_bTW_dG0ox6s/SU29fWx6bkI/AAAAAAAAAKQ/rldpBh-7HbE/S220/P1030239.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3612643916008957855.post-5898685313442198695</id><published>2008-07-02T04:10:00.004+08:00</published><updated>2008-12-10T11:19:11.341+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Cant take my eyes off you</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_bTW_dG0ox6s/SGqQXYvYp_I/AAAAAAAAAEA/775iK_X-iGM/s1600-h/kabus.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_bTW_dG0ox6s/SGqQXYvYp_I/AAAAAAAAAEA/775iK_X-iGM/s320/kabus.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5218141849714730994" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's hard when you lose someone dear to you. Regardless if its a person or a pet, the feeling of lost is still the same, deep and painful. I came home this past weekend after a long night shoot to find my cat Kabus sprawled out on our porch. I dropped my bags and immediately tend to her but i realise I couldn't do much. She was on her side and letting out small meows. I knew deep down she wouldn't last the night. I stayed by her side as long as i could.Keeping her comfortable as much as i can.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I didn't think that It would come to this. She looked well before i left for Kuantan. I shouldn't have assumed. I try not to be mad at myself but sometimes I can't seem to help it. I hate it when people tell you that its for the best and she's in a better place. It hurts me to hear it. I know they mean well but its just painful to hear. Kabus was such a kind soul. She came into our lives when we were in need of guidance. She made our home, whole. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I feel sorry for my mom. She seemed so lost. Its like she lost her child. Her spirit is all broken up. I'm gonna miss Kabus's soft eyes. Tilting her head side ways to get our attention or for an extra chicken. Such a pity she had to go that way..I hope we made your last hours comfortable Kabus...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3612643916008957855-5898685313442198695?l=basketcase-elly.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://basketcase-elly.blogspot.com/feeds/5898685313442198695/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3612643916008957855&amp;postID=5898685313442198695' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3612643916008957855/posts/default/5898685313442198695'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3612643916008957855/posts/default/5898685313442198695'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://basketcase-elly.blogspot.com/2008/07/cant-take-my-eyes-off-you.html' title='Cant take my eyes off you'/><author><name>Elly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17099501318565717673</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_bTW_dG0ox6s/SU29fWx6bkI/AAAAAAAAAKQ/rldpBh-7HbE/S220/P1030239.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_bTW_dG0ox6s/SGqQXYvYp_I/AAAAAAAAAEA/775iK_X-iGM/s72-c/kabus.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3612643916008957855.post-2574387394157099895</id><published>2008-06-23T04:54:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2008-06-23T06:30:09.700+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Menanti sebuah jawaban</title><content type='html'>There's always a song in your life that'll have a significant meaning. Be it a good or bad song it will almost always bring you back to some old memory in the past. Sometimes with an old feelings attached. Recently, a song from the past came back. This particular song, meant the world to me. It said things that I would dream of saying to this one person but i never had the guts.&lt;br /&gt;Finally after so many years, it was out and he knew the meaning of it all. I felt a great relief. To certain extent, he too shared some feelings as i did before in the past. The sad thing was, I couldn't feel what i wanted to feel. I couldn't be in the moment, that beautiful moment that I've wished to be in so many moons *smile*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wished circumstances were different. That i was ok and ready to receive whatever emotions but I can't. Recent wounds have yet to heal. I feel unfair to persue something which my heart has not warrant for or maybe i was just tired. Tired of constantly waiting&lt;br /&gt;and finding out in the end, it was too late. What feelings i had before in the past, was just burried too deep and I guess for now it wants to remain asleep...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/JK3vcA8pSi4&amp;hl=en"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/JK3vcA8pSi4&amp;hl=en" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3612643916008957855-2574387394157099895?l=basketcase-elly.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://basketcase-elly.blogspot.com/feeds/2574387394157099895/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3612643916008957855&amp;postID=2574387394157099895' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3612643916008957855/posts/default/2574387394157099895'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3612643916008957855/posts/default/2574387394157099895'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://basketcase-elly.blogspot.com/2008/06/menanti-sebuah-jawaban.html' title='Menanti sebuah jawaban'/><author><name>Elly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17099501318565717673</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_bTW_dG0ox6s/SU29fWx6bkI/AAAAAAAAAKQ/rldpBh-7HbE/S220/P1030239.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3612643916008957855.post-256975323285758567</id><published>2008-06-12T00:43:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2008-06-12T01:28:20.196+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Too romantic for my own good</title><content type='html'>Whenever I get into a relationship with a guy, I find out that I'm much more romantic than they are. I go through loads of trouble to show them how i feel. Be it from expressing it verbally or by going through painstaking hell, picking the ultimate song that'll explain how I feel about them and our relationship. But all these acts of care, romance and love almost always falls on hard wall.I can only name few exs that'll reciprocate similar actions and feelings but of recent, I've yet to feel romanced. Maybe my expectations are high. Maybe I'm an ultra sensitive. I just find it odd for a person to not be honest about how they feel. Why hide the love you have for someone. Why be afraid of someone you care about? I guess there are reason as to why people keep their feelings to themselves. I myself learned the hard way. Never let out your all for someone who almost never work for your attention or love. Someone dear to me once said, " If you hand them the reward from the beginning instead of dangling it before their eyes, they will never know the value of you"  My overly romantic gestures and feelings  caused me my dignity and trust.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; To tell you the truth,I have no one to blame but myself. I have no one to be upset with but myself. In the end, it was me who chose to believe. I didn't come out of this at total lost. I learned something. I learn that man or woman to a certain extend would repeat the vicious cycle. What I meant by that is, after a breakup for some reason we morph into our past exs.We become more sceptical of future gf / bf. We doubt their credibility even more. My recent ex, turned into his ex fiance. She was quiet to a point that she doesn't say how she feels even when she's hurt. She didn't bother to earn his affections because she knew he would, so with me he did the same. He was the receiver and i was the giver. That's how it went throughout the relationship. He turned into her because he was hurt by her. He subconsciously became her, the person he hated most and in the end he was her.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;  I can't say I feel sorry for him, I think I've done that throughout our relationship. The choices that we make are our own. He made his. By his judgement and inconsiderate action cost him ...me..my trust..my friendship above all.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3612643916008957855-256975323285758567?l=basketcase-elly.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://basketcase-elly.blogspot.com/feeds/256975323285758567/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3612643916008957855&amp;postID=256975323285758567' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3612643916008957855/posts/default/256975323285758567'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3612643916008957855/posts/default/256975323285758567'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://basketcase-elly.blogspot.com/2008/06/too-romantic-for-my-own-good.html' title='Too romantic for my own good'/><author><name>Elly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17099501318565717673</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_bTW_dG0ox6s/SU29fWx6bkI/AAAAAAAAAKQ/rldpBh-7HbE/S220/P1030239.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3612643916008957855.post-225969145700701665</id><published>2008-05-07T02:34:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2008-05-07T02:54:39.115+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Tailor Made</title><content type='html'>Some people live their life with everything figured out in their head. What they're gonna be when they grow up. What sorta friends they should have. Who they should date. Who they should end up with. How the husband and wife to be should look like. Its just so amazing how people can just put all of it togather as if its some puzzle.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; At one point of my life, I thought i'd grow up to be a lawyer. Married a tall and handsome looking white man with blue eyes and alittle dimple on the side when ever he smiles. I'm 4 years away from my 30th Birthday, non of that has came close to coming through, well except the fact i've dated few causcasian and am still quite attached to one Hawaiian man i met when i was 19 years old. Didn't work coz I didn't believe in long distance relationship ( wonder how that'll turn out ). I'm not whining or anything, is just that for me i realised, I couldnt do it all. I couldn't be or live based on someone elses expectation. I told myself, If there's going to be an added stress or preassure then it better be on my own terms.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; Everyone i know aims for perfection in some sort of way or another. Whether in physical attributes, life or career. What is perfection? What is perfection worth now? If its at your own expense and your unhappiness, then forget it. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; I'd rather do something that's tailored made for me. My life, my looks, my career, my music and my relationship. I'll be deciding if they fit me and not the other way around. You should move at your pace..Live your life..&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3612643916008957855-225969145700701665?l=basketcase-elly.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://basketcase-elly.blogspot.com/feeds/225969145700701665/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3612643916008957855&amp;postID=225969145700701665' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3612643916008957855/posts/default/225969145700701665'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3612643916008957855/posts/default/225969145700701665'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://basketcase-elly.blogspot.com/2008/05/tailor-made.html' title='Tailor Made'/><author><name>Elly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17099501318565717673</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_bTW_dG0ox6s/SU29fWx6bkI/AAAAAAAAAKQ/rldpBh-7HbE/S220/P1030239.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3612643916008957855.post-8538237740269902824</id><published>2008-04-29T01:42:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2008-12-10T11:19:11.554+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Breathing...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_bTW_dG0ox6s/SBYM4z686pI/AAAAAAAAADs/qTD0IzgjX9c/s1600-h/breathing.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_bTW_dG0ox6s/SBYM4z686pI/AAAAAAAAADs/qTD0IzgjX9c/s400/breathing.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5194353390368123538" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3612643916008957855-8538237740269902824?l=basketcase-elly.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://basketcase-elly.blogspot.com/feeds/8538237740269902824/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3612643916008957855&amp;postID=8538237740269902824' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3612643916008957855/posts/default/8538237740269902824'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3612643916008957855/posts/default/8538237740269902824'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://basketcase-elly.blogspot.com/2008/04/breathing.html' title='Breathing...'/><author><name>Elly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17099501318565717673</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_bTW_dG0ox6s/SU29fWx6bkI/AAAAAAAAAKQ/rldpBh-7HbE/S220/P1030239.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_bTW_dG0ox6s/SBYM4z686pI/AAAAAAAAADs/qTD0IzgjX9c/s72-c/breathing.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3612643916008957855.post-4177565466198153862</id><published>2008-04-18T01:28:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2008-04-18T02:02:43.021+08:00</updated><title type='text'>One minute you're this and then you're another?</title><content type='html'>A night of all nights I can't seem to fall asleep. Thoughts keeps on popping in my head. Maybe its the hormone in balance. Maybe its the cosmos. Who knows but its definitely in the air. One thing that kept on bugging me, is how people change when they've come out of a relationship. They've become an entirely different person.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; I just don't get that. Why do you have to change? Why do you have to change the essence of you? I find that, I fall more out of love with my exs because of this.The whole sudden transformation. I can't even hang on to them as friends coz I don't know them. They change before my very eyes. Whenever i see them or bump into them at some function, I realise the person i fell for is no longer there. What stands before me is a complete stranger. A stranger that on a normal day, I wouldn't even give him a second glance. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; The question that lingers in my head is, "Is it so bad to be reminded of someone that you love and once share a part of you with them?"  " Is that why you have to change everything around you, so you wouldn't be reminded of the memories, the love?"&lt;br /&gt;and is it so bad to show how you still feel for you ex?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Some of you out there might say Yes and some might say No to the questions above. As for me, I'm not one to hide how i feel. I don't believe in games. I believe in letting the other person know how I feel inside. Tell them what they're worth to me and how much i love and care for them. That's why, I am who I am. I don't change my essence because it defines me as me. I want my my past and future love to know that what ever he and i went through is special and no one cant take it a way. No relationship share the same kind of love. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; But then again, you can never control another humans emotion. If they chose to let you go without realising your worth and not fight for you, then its pretty evident that you mean absolutely jack shit to them. They can say anything later on down the road but for me when they don't initiate anything from the beginning then it's pointless. Its funny i've only realise all this after so long but a minute longer is better than never. My only regret in the whole fiasco is that I allowed myself to be used but as the good book said " Don't be ashamed of your goodness, you are what you are regardless of how people defines you. Do good and help those in need". I'll try my very best to do that without any prejudice..For now that's all i can do *smile*&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3612643916008957855-4177565466198153862?l=basketcase-elly.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://basketcase-elly.blogspot.com/feeds/4177565466198153862/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3612643916008957855&amp;postID=4177565466198153862' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3612643916008957855/posts/default/4177565466198153862'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3612643916008957855/posts/default/4177565466198153862'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://basketcase-elly.blogspot.com/2008/04/one-minute-your-this-and-then-your.html' title='One minute you&apos;re this and then you&apos;re another?'/><author><name>Elly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17099501318565717673</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_bTW_dG0ox6s/SU29fWx6bkI/AAAAAAAAAKQ/rldpBh-7HbE/S220/P1030239.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3612643916008957855.post-7518554452969791775</id><published>2008-04-13T19:03:00.004+08:00</published><updated>2008-04-13T20:21:34.207+08:00</updated><title type='text'>And we froze...!!!!</title><content type='html'>I received this invite couple days back from this organisation called Randomalphabets.com. The invite reads &lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;"KL Freeze in Unison. 2.30pm. Sunday 13th April.Where human beings get together to do something in unison, without speeches or reference to their age, colour, sex, beliefs and background"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At first I didn't get the whole thing, until the next day i got an email from a friend asking me to check my mailbox. Apparently they had release the location of the &lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;"Freeze Point"&lt;/span&gt;. I find this whole thing ridiculous but i had nothing better to do on Sunday i decided to just wing it. Sent a message RSVP-ing my attendance and check out the list of people going on facebook. To my surprise the the number of people attending was HUGE!!! i think around 900++. I got be excited. The fact that it was a covert mission and a big one at that I just wanted to be apart of it. I mean its just 4 minutes. WHat is 4 minutes out of your entire day right.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So come Sunday (today), we ( Jess, Razak, Lim and I ) headed to the briefing point, which was in LOT 10. When we gathered there, you could see everyone around was really weird out. Even the guards freaked out at the numbers of young people gathering around. We waited for the agent to come with the little orange flyers to tell us our "Freeze Point" By 2.30pm we got our flyers and headed out to Pavillion. Everyone had a different location to FREEZE. We were told to freeze right after the fashion show ended. 5 minutes before the fashion show ended we went to our designated freeze area but for some reason there were some sort of confusion we headed back to the central area (where the fashion show was) we saw almost everyone froze. Jess and i freaked out coz we thought we missed it but we jsut decided to just freeze anyway.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was completely hilarious. We had people crashing into us. We had them take our pictures. Heard some comments like " Ohh don't worry honey is one of those thing on youtube. Where they freeze for a few minutes and then walk off" It was just out of this world. Definetly and odd experience. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We unfreezed after we heard the head of the organisation clapped and screamed. The news people showed up interviewed people it was wild. The pavillion management wasn't too happy about the whole thing. Big drama angry bald guy charging at the news people. The last freeze i heard ended up on the news. I think this one will for sheer number of people that turned up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Im so happy that all the younger generation are up for this peaceful show of union. No violence , no words but action. In the end only that works.GOOD JOB guys!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here's a sample video from youtube of a freeze in New York.Check it out&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="425" height="355"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/jwMj3PJDxuo&amp;hl=en"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="wmode" value="transparent"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/jwMj3PJDxuo&amp;hl=en" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" width="425" height="355"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3612643916008957855-7518554452969791775?l=basketcase-elly.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://basketcase-elly.blogspot.com/feeds/7518554452969791775/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3612643916008957855&amp;postID=7518554452969791775' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3612643916008957855/posts/default/7518554452969791775'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3612643916008957855/posts/default/7518554452969791775'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://basketcase-elly.blogspot.com/2008/04/and-we-froze.html' title='And we froze...!!!!'/><author><name>Elly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17099501318565717673</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_bTW_dG0ox6s/SU29fWx6bkI/AAAAAAAAAKQ/rldpBh-7HbE/S220/P1030239.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3612643916008957855.post-6659365385934942928</id><published>2008-04-09T23:58:00.004+08:00</published><updated>2008-04-12T00:35:59.364+08:00</updated><title type='text'>And I just realized...</title><content type='html'>&lt;object width="425" height="355"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/haRXQrjP4jI&amp;amp;hl=en"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="wmode" value="transparent"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/haRXQrjP4jI&amp;amp;hl=en" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" width="425" height="355"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; I've listened to this song on the radio million of times but her words didn't effect me before as it did now. I find it rather odd. Out of the blue the words just strike right into my heart. I didn't cry or anything but i felt this jolt of sorrow. I havent been feeling those sort of feelings awhile. I guess I've been blocking it out. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Funny how a simple song like this, an everyday song could give such an effect. Since it strike right on the money, its pretty obvious  that one would start pondering about it. At first i thought it was my ex that i felt this way for but honestly it wasnt. When it came to him, there are scars ofcourse but most of all just utter blankness. I guess when you made out your mind to take a day as a new day everything else just melts away.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think i know who I have this feelings for but I'm not entirely sure. It might just be a passing emotions. For now, we'll just have to lock up all the boxes and just let it all runs its course. Enjoy the song guys..&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3612643916008957855-6659365385934942928?l=basketcase-elly.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://basketcase-elly.blogspot.com/feeds/6659365385934942928/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3612643916008957855&amp;postID=6659365385934942928' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3612643916008957855/posts/default/6659365385934942928'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3612643916008957855/posts/default/6659365385934942928'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://basketcase-elly.blogspot.com/2008/04/and-i-just-realized.html' title='And I just realized...'/><author><name>Elly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17099501318565717673</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_bTW_dG0ox6s/SU29fWx6bkI/AAAAAAAAAKQ/rldpBh-7HbE/S220/P1030239.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3612643916008957855.post-4448022511408286802</id><published>2008-03-22T23:35:00.007+08:00</published><updated>2008-09-10T18:43:38.579+08:00</updated><title type='text'>You come first</title><content type='html'>You can only be so nice some of the time and the balance of it all, you need to sit down and think whether the person that you're helping really deserves it. You &lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 204, 0);font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;NEED&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; to be realistic and logical. Why? because most of the time you can't help everyone at one go. And you can't help them when you're not happy and strong first. It just takes &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;a lot&lt;/span&gt; out of you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You &lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 0);font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;HAVE&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; to come first or what ever you've done, be it helping someone, It would all be in vain because you'll start doubting the sincerity of it all. It takes a big person to give and not  expect anything in return. And it takes a bigger person to give and help others and then get bitched at in return.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It just drains you out, this whole gig, helping out and being the  nice guy. Doesn't give you the self worth that you need. You do get the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;occasional&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 204, 204);"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 204, 204);"&gt;" &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; " class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 204, 204);"&gt;Yah&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 204, 204);"&gt; i did something good today. I've contributed"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 204, 204);"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;but that's pretty much it. You have that one minute of goodness and then it just &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;disappears&lt;/span&gt; like smoke.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I recently read this book "&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;Dont&lt;/span&gt; Be Sad"  and it said that you can't be upset with yourself for being nice and helpful. And you cant be upset that there are assholes in the world that doesn't appreciate you and your worth. They're just built that way and so are you..you're just built with &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;alot&lt;/span&gt; of goodness. In other words we can't get in a twist if people are just mean and crappy to you. You just gotta be you and remain as you even though you'll cross path with a couple of assholes along the way. It's easier said that done &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;ofcourse&lt;/span&gt; because these are feelings we're dealing with. I know its been rather hard for me but i can &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;at least&lt;/span&gt; say i try and that for now is good enough for me. There's some progress.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So to the assholes of the world &lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 204, 0);font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;" class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;WATCH OUT&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9"&gt;coz&lt;/span&gt; this bitch is on the loose and she's coming to the theatres near you.Hang on to your hats and panties all hell's gonna break loose.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3612643916008957855-4448022511408286802?l=basketcase-elly.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://basketcase-elly.blogspot.com/feeds/4448022511408286802/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3612643916008957855&amp;postID=4448022511408286802' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3612643916008957855/posts/default/4448022511408286802'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3612643916008957855/posts/default/4448022511408286802'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://basketcase-elly.blogspot.com/2008/03/you-come-first.html' title='You come first'/><author><name>Elly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17099501318565717673</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_bTW_dG0ox6s/SU29fWx6bkI/AAAAAAAAAKQ/rldpBh-7HbE/S220/P1030239.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3612643916008957855.post-8850993988660707080</id><published>2008-02-05T04:57:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2008-02-26T00:49:18.887+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Why do we constantly pick the wrong one?</title><content type='html'>With all the constant preassure of marriage from society, family and friends, it doesn't help matters of choosing the right one. You would think that at this day an age, people would just lighten up about it. Fine, that it is a parental thing to worry whether your child would end up hitched to someone or anyone for that matter. So long as they get hitched. Personally, not to sound disrespectful towards the elders, I think they should just lay back. I mean nothing good comes out from things that are rushed. So what if your son or daughter turns 25 or 26, it wasn't written anywhere or in any book that at that age they should settle down.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No matter how much i grumble about this, I can't change society, family or friends. Fact is, everyone is obssessed about being with someone. Because of that, because of this race against time set by society, we always manage to choose the wrong one. There are times, you'd think that he or she might be the one but something about em doesn't fit. It's as if you've forgive and let go of all their misgivings and inadequacy. In other words, we settle for less than what we deserve.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We look to our left and right and just grab  whomever that makes us feel alittle comfortable. Alittle loved and cared for. We fall into the bullshit of it all. We get all caught up with what the tvs and the movies said about love and romance. We just get caught up. Well, I refuse to get caught up. Anything less than passion, romance, compassion, humour, witt,kinkyness, sweet smile and heart, intelligence, and would fall head over heels for me as me and would stand for me when I'm in need of a support, wouldn't work. I don't want anything less than that anymore.&lt;br /&gt;Why lessen myself for someone who's never been worthy of me. I don't know if this whole experiment would work and that I'd find the one, but atleast i know if all fails, I came out on the other end as me and no one else. With a guy or no guy in tow. I'm up for slowing down the race...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3612643916008957855-8850993988660707080?l=basketcase-elly.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://basketcase-elly.blogspot.com/feeds/8850993988660707080/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3612643916008957855&amp;postID=8850993988660707080' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3612643916008957855/posts/default/8850993988660707080'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3612643916008957855/posts/default/8850993988660707080'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://basketcase-elly.blogspot.com/2008/02/why-do-we-constantly-pick-wrong-one.html' title='Why do we constantly pick the wrong one?'/><author><name>Elly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17099501318565717673</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_bTW_dG0ox6s/SU29fWx6bkI/AAAAAAAAAKQ/rldpBh-7HbE/S220/P1030239.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3612643916008957855.post-6751752574832845667</id><published>2008-01-02T14:29:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2008-02-03T20:30:48.963+08:00</updated><title type='text'>2008 year ...of the Rat??!!!</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;I find it rather odd that the year of the rat would be called a lucky year, let alone for the ladies. But if its stated in the stars, who am I to disagree. I'm all for luck. Truth is i need it. I wouldn't say the year before wasn't good. It has its moments but towards the end, it went south.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So yah, if it says in the stars its a lucky year, I'm all game. First on the astrology bit they said we ladies are gonna make tonnes of moolah. Since luck is on my side, I decided to invest in unit trust give it a go. I'd rather stock up the moolah and make my empire grow rather than spend on things i don't need ( That'll change when i see a nice pair of shoes or out of the world leather bag that i need to have ) I mean with the rate the economy is going through , I think it's wises choice to be making. To some our country's inflation doesn't look bad, honey you ought to thanked your lucky stars our government are pumping in the money to keep us afloat.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The second bit is relationships. To be honest, I know the stars said its fine to hook it up but I'm just gonna take a raincheck on it. Take care of me and my health and life. Get the career on the running. Don't get me wrong, If a guy ask me out..I'll go but that's pretty much it. I don't want to get into something when I'm not over the emotional rollercoaster. One thing for sure this time, I'm gonna do in with eyes wide open. No more emotional blindness regardless what the astrology.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As for health, it said that it pretty much varies between the animals. If you are a dog such as myself then you have to watch it on the experimental and rigorous sports. Physical injuries are at a high risk this year.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And our wealth ladies, are looking bright right now. Its expected to be on a rise come mid of the year. So don't you worry about the year end sale. We'll make it. We'll make it big.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&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/3612643916008957855-6751752574832845667?l=basketcase-elly.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://basketcase-elly.blogspot.com/feeds/6751752574832845667/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3612643916008957855&amp;postID=6751752574832845667' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3612643916008957855/posts/default/6751752574832845667'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3612643916008957855/posts/default/6751752574832845667'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://basketcase-elly.blogspot.com/2008/01/2008-year-of-rat.html' title='2008 year ...of the Rat??!!!'/><author><name>Elly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17099501318565717673</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_bTW_dG0ox6s/SU29fWx6bkI/AAAAAAAAAKQ/rldpBh-7HbE/S220/P1030239.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3612643916008957855.post-9081695166862252674</id><published>2007-12-11T01:19:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-12-22T01:31:45.787+08:00</updated><title type='text'>In the darkest hour...</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt; You know that feeling you get in the pit of your stomach, that little thing that tells you that you might have done something rash. The kind of feeling you can only get when you're in a total emotional limbo. This is what i hate about breaking up. Everything that was once in control is now out of my control. My once sound mind, has now become screwed up. I can't have an actual emotion without analyzing it. At times I wish, I could just be man so I could just compartmentalize all the bullshit in my life and focus on things that will make me successful.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt; Sadly, I can't be a man. I am a woman and like any other woman, we &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;dissect&lt;/span&gt; every single thing in the relationship in this case past relationship. So in my darkest hour, while I sat alone at the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;mamak&lt;/span&gt;, I rewind and replayed every bit of my relationship with my ex. I cut and edit everything in my head. Looking at everything as if it was under a microscope. Thinking to myself about what I could have done differently and what I shouldn't have done. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt; From all the rewinding and forwarding of our relationship, there was one particular conversation caught my attention. I remember asking the ex, why throughout the relationship I had always made the move. I had always made it easier for him to reach out and take or feel what ever he wants. And  now, that we've broken up, he still doesn't even want to put any effort in making &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;whatever&lt;/span&gt; we got left work. In some subconscious way he still expects me to give in and make it easier. I asked him why all this are still happening. He said he didn't want to give me hope. Hope of us getting back &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;together&lt;/span&gt;. If he were to unlock the real feelings he has inside, it'll create some sort of hope in me. He fears that. He fears that I might get hurt again on his account.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;  But his fellow mate said to me today, " If he doesn't have hope at all in his heart than there is no point of you hoping for something to spark" Which is why now ladies and gentleman, I am in an emotional limbo and in my darkest hour. I tell myself not to care because if I do then &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;i'll&lt;/span&gt; start having all this memories and emotions flooding in at once and i have no control of this and i cant take it.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt; Maybe is true about what his mate said, why wait for someone that isn't willing to put his money on you. Why think of someone who wouldn't even unload his love for you, for the fear of losing his dignity. Why put your heart out on a silver platter when all they want to do is just whack it to millions pieces? The answer I don't know. I guess I am a romantic person. I always thought to some point that love was meant to be simple and not to be disrupted with issues of money, status and appearance. I think its about time i burst my own bubble and face the reality of things. Love doesn't mean a thing when its made easy. It has no worth when there isnt any one striving for it. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;  From now on, the next guy that comes along, I hope he beats me with a bat to tell me that his infront of me because if he doesn't than this boat is sailing away.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3612643916008957855-9081695166862252674?l=basketcase-elly.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://basketcase-elly.blogspot.com/feeds/9081695166862252674/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3612643916008957855&amp;postID=9081695166862252674' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3612643916008957855/posts/default/9081695166862252674'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3612643916008957855/posts/default/9081695166862252674'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://basketcase-elly.blogspot.com/2007/12/in-darkest-hour.html' title='In the darkest hour...'/><author><name>Elly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17099501318565717673</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_bTW_dG0ox6s/SU29fWx6bkI/AAAAAAAAAKQ/rldpBh-7HbE/S220/P1030239.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3612643916008957855.post-7036214899743217436</id><published>2007-12-03T18:12:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-12-13T22:17:18.372+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Bye...For Now..</title><content type='html'>And they say "When you love someone , you have to let them go" and I did just that last weekend. It wasn't the easiest thing to do but it had to be done. It was a good 16 months.We had a good run. He was my bestest friend, soulmate and love. I had to make the ultimate sacrifice because I didn't want to be the cause of his misery with his family and primarily his mother.  But that wasn't the only reason. I didn't want to be a hypocrite. I couldn't be around him and love him, when i had such anger and a growing dislike for his mother. It wouldn't be fair. Plus I just couldn't take anymore of the insults and personal ridicules the mom made towards me and my family. It was just time to draw the line.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Whatever his family is he isn't.I fell for him, for the person that he is. A good son and a good man. For now, our path has to split. He has to discover himself and I have to build a better me. I have a lot to prove and alot to do. Maybe the move I made wasn't right, maybe it is. I don't know but I'll just leave it to god to decide. If it was meant to be, he and I will meet and in that time we will be one.  Till then , life has to go on, there's nothing but the future. We just have to move on and think of the best and the most positive.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I leave you with Coldplay-The scientist&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This song is for you. Everything I want and need to say to you is all here. Be strong.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object height="355" width="425"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/V3Kd7IGPyeg&amp;amp;rel=1"&gt;&lt;param name="wmode" value="transparent"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/V3Kd7IGPyeg&amp;amp;rel=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" height="355" width="425"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3612643916008957855-7036214899743217436?l=basketcase-elly.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://basketcase-elly.blogspot.com/feeds/7036214899743217436/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3612643916008957855&amp;postID=7036214899743217436' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3612643916008957855/posts/default/7036214899743217436'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3612643916008957855/posts/default/7036214899743217436'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://basketcase-elly.blogspot.com/2007/12/byefor-now.html' title='Bye...For Now..'/><author><name>Elly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17099501318565717673</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_bTW_dG0ox6s/SU29fWx6bkI/AAAAAAAAAKQ/rldpBh-7HbE/S220/P1030239.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3612643916008957855.post-5508340820769617566</id><published>2007-11-25T17:08:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-11-25T17:30:23.326+08:00</updated><title type='text'>I want...</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt; Today is the day I tell the universe what I want. Ok ok it might sound as if I had an overdose of The Secret but when you read the book and watch the DVD, you kinda pick up on the positive vibes. In a section of the DVD, one of the philosophers suggested that we make an "I Want List". It's like a to do list of what you want to have done through out your entire life. The list is a means for you to focus on so you wouldnt lose track of the things you want most. Another way to not dwell on the negatives. So today I decide to make my very own " I want list". Here goes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- I want to have a healthy and fit body&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- I want to have smooth and flawless skin&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- I want to be spiritually complete and one with my religion&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- I want to be more positive, confident and assertive of myself&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- I want to love myself more and accept me more&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- I want my relationship with my mom to be more positive, warm and closer&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- I want to have 1 million dollars in my bank by the age of 30&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- I want to be married to a man that respects, love, care and will guide me through this life      according to our islamic beliefs.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-I want to be a successful business woman&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- I want to have my dream office space&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- I want to buy my mother her dream car and house in the next 3 years&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- I want be independent&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- I want to make an impact in my community and help the less fortunate&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- I want regular income, projects&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- I want to sing and perform my heart out next year&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; For now, the ones above are the ones i'm focus on. I'm sure i'll add somemore to the list soon.&lt;br /&gt;The first step is done and now to follow through.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3612643916008957855-5508340820769617566?l=basketcase-elly.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://basketcase-elly.blogspot.com/feeds/5508340820769617566/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3612643916008957855&amp;postID=5508340820769617566' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3612643916008957855/posts/default/5508340820769617566'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3612643916008957855/posts/default/5508340820769617566'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://basketcase-elly.blogspot.com/2007/11/i-want.html' title='I want...'/><author><name>Elly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17099501318565717673</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_bTW_dG0ox6s/SU29fWx6bkI/AAAAAAAAAKQ/rldpBh-7HbE/S220/P1030239.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3612643916008957855.post-7800967186753174590</id><published>2007-11-19T00:54:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-11-19T02:38:22.307+08:00</updated><title type='text'>The day good english became a 4 letter word</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;   Yes you read it right, the title is saying what it means. Several days back I was accused of vulgarity when I used the word "civilised" to calm a maniac of a woman, who went all psycho on me when I tried to elaborate a specific situation. The accuser, was the woman's daughter. I believe the maniac was too shocked at my chosen words that she couldn't bring herself to confront me but sent her blank headed of a daughter to deliver her two cents.  The conversation went like this:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;"&gt; Accuser: What ta' hell did you say to my mother?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;"&gt; Me:    What are you actually &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;font-size:100%;" class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" &gt;referring&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;"&gt; to because we spoke at length about &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;font-size:100%;" class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" &gt;a lot&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;"&gt; of things.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;"&gt; Accuser: I was told that you were rude and disrespectful.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;"&gt; Me: Is that so? How was I rude and disrespectful? As far as i could remember, I didn't get a decent word in. How could I , with your mother screaming at the top of her lungs, saying obscene things to me . Which I found odd because it had nothing to do with the issue at hand.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;"&gt;Accuser: You used the word "Civilised"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;"&gt;Me: Yes I did. Of course I did. You'd do the same when a mad woman goes on a rampage. That's the most decent thing you'd say. I'd had a different word in mind but because I remember who your mother was, I refrained myself from sinking to your family's level.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;"&gt;Accuser: &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;font-size:100%;" class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" &gt;Couldnt&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;"&gt; you have used a different word? Do you think you're better than us just because you used complicated words?WHAT!! Do you think you're smarter than us?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;"&gt;Me: First of all, the word "civilised" is not a FOUR LETTER WORD. If i had let what your moronic of a mother get to me, the word civilized would be the least of her concern. I said to your mother lets sort this out like civilized people because she was screaming at the top of her lungs.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;"&gt;Accuser: YOU SHOULD HAVE KEPT QUIET AND LISTENED. DON'T YOU HAVE ANY RESPECT FOR THE ELDERS. WHY DID YOU USE THAT WORD!!! YOU'RE RUDE.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;"&gt;Me: Not when they're not right, self centered, crazy and verbally abusive. I wasn't raised to tolerate that sort of third world country mind set. If you think its rude to stand up for yourself than that's &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;font-size:100%;" class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3" &gt;you're&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;font-size:100%;" class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4" &gt;prerogative&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;"&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After the nitwit and I hung up, I couldnt help myself but laughed. She got all worked up about a word that meant : &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;( civilized) polite and well-mannered . &lt;/span&gt;Her reaction was as if I cussed at her mother. By god I did want to wring the woman's neck for what she said but yah, she got worked up about a word that meant nothing. I'm just in utter disbelief of the reaction. Everytime, since that day, when i recall back, I laugh. To think that you have idiots like these around.Mann...the world has trully became bonkers.&lt;br /&gt;&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/3612643916008957855-7800967186753174590?l=basketcase-elly.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://basketcase-elly.blogspot.com/feeds/7800967186753174590/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3612643916008957855&amp;postID=7800967186753174590' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3612643916008957855/posts/default/7800967186753174590'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3612643916008957855/posts/default/7800967186753174590'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://basketcase-elly.blogspot.com/2007/11/day-good-english-became-4-letter-word.html' title='The day good english became a 4 letter word'/><author><name>Elly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17099501318565717673</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_bTW_dG0ox6s/SU29fWx6bkI/AAAAAAAAAKQ/rldpBh-7HbE/S220/P1030239.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3612643916008957855.post-7572095264638889012</id><published>2007-10-30T00:20:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-10-30T13:51:14.948+08:00</updated><title type='text'>A Grey Day..</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt; Woke up today, with one of those bad feelings. The type that makes you want to go back into bed and hide under your covers for the whole entire day and just &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;wallow&lt;/span&gt; in your sadness and depression. It's a wonder &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;isnt&lt;/span&gt;' it, how words can effect you. Especially when negative things are being said about you by someone you used to have a lot of care for.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Regardless what is said true or not, sometimes it just gets to you. Especially when you've been having such a &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;vulnerable&lt;/span&gt; week. But today was a different sort of grey. How death could just snap you back into perspective. It tells you that there's so much more in life to look forward to rather than worried about some negative people and their theories of you they've &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;concocted&lt;/span&gt; in their stupid and boring life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;   In facing death today, a sudden realization came to light, it doesn't mean anything if no attention is given to it. It doesn't mean anything, if there isn't any reaction. In life, you do what you can and not be worried about not being liked. Cause it doesn't work that way. Be as good as you can be and as true to yourself as much as you can. Visualize the good and positive.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For my uncle, Al- Fatihah..&lt;br /&gt;&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/3612643916008957855-7572095264638889012?l=basketcase-elly.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://basketcase-elly.blogspot.com/feeds/7572095264638889012/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3612643916008957855&amp;postID=7572095264638889012' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3612643916008957855/posts/default/7572095264638889012'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3612643916008957855/posts/default/7572095264638889012'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://basketcase-elly.blogspot.com/2007/10/grey-day.html' title='A Grey Day..'/><author><name>Elly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17099501318565717673</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_bTW_dG0ox6s/SU29fWx6bkI/AAAAAAAAAKQ/rldpBh-7HbE/S220/P1030239.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3612643916008957855.post-1353557942326458679</id><published>2007-10-17T00:20:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-10-25T01:43:01.978+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Value of Man</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;    How do you value a person? Looks? Money? Stature? Intelligence? Religion? Is it crucial for you to value a person to begin with. Why must there be a value filtering system, when it comes to &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;choosing&lt;/span&gt; friends or life partners? Why &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;isnt&lt;/span&gt; it not enough, when the people you're with are kind, happy and compassionate. Doesn't that criteria matters anymore. I just &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;dont&lt;/span&gt; understand why do society need all those temporary "leg up" to build a friendship or relationship.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;   Those temporary advantages, will eventually fade. I wonder, if those self absorb , wealth and beauty driven people are aware of this. Don't they ever stop to think that one day, it'll be swept right under their feet? To a certain extend I doubt they would, as a friend of mine said " it's the fall of our local society, so hung up with rank, beauty and wealth".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;   It's as if having a title makes them less human but gods and &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;goddess&lt;/span&gt;. Just because with title, they get first choice of everything makes them feel they're better than everyone. Well mate, If i stab you, you'd still bleed. Your blood is as red as mine. Doesn't make you any different from me just because you have a title up front of you &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;blardy&lt;/span&gt; name.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;   For once, I just wish these people would just get off they fucking high horse and realise the whole deal. All those earthly bound things, means jack when you die. Means nothing when it comes to matter of emotions or well being. I just wish something hard just thuds their head and it all comes into place for them. But then again, a girl can wish so much.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&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/3612643916008957855-1353557942326458679?l=basketcase-elly.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://basketcase-elly.blogspot.com/feeds/1353557942326458679/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3612643916008957855&amp;postID=1353557942326458679' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3612643916008957855/posts/default/1353557942326458679'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3612643916008957855/posts/default/1353557942326458679'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://basketcase-elly.blogspot.com/2007/10/value-of-man.html' title='Value of Man'/><author><name>Elly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17099501318565717673</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_bTW_dG0ox6s/SU29fWx6bkI/AAAAAAAAAKQ/rldpBh-7HbE/S220/P1030239.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3612643916008957855.post-7714603412320003472</id><published>2007-10-02T23:21:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2008-12-10T11:19:11.967+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Another one found..</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_bTW_dG0ox6s/RwJkyt2JKjI/AAAAAAAAABk/p0lWz9kSWOg/s1600-h/french.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_bTW_dG0ox6s/RwJkyt2JKjI/AAAAAAAAABk/p0lWz9kSWOg/s400/french.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5116762949109230130" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;I'm sure you heard of this story before,  that god created seven versions of you. And he spreads them all over the globe for you to find one another in the end.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think I found my fourth. By fluke I found her and her name is like mine.Exactly spelled the same way. I was drawned to her blog by her little write up about herself.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was further intrigued by her when I saw her illustration. The more i read her blog the more alike I feel we are. She has plenty insights on things. Where she is now, is where i want to be in a couple of years. Basically having it all at the age of 30- 31?? Accomplished, happy and content. Happily married and with a kid and a career that makes me happy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; Lately, all that seems so far. All I have to show for is a startup company, that I'm quite happy with. As for love, the jury is still out on that. So back to focusing on what works.In this case WORK!! *laughs*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Do check her blog out. She's quite a character.&lt;br /&gt;&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/3612643916008957855-7714603412320003472?l=basketcase-elly.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://basketcase-elly.blogspot.com/feeds/7714603412320003472/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3612643916008957855&amp;postID=7714603412320003472' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3612643916008957855/posts/default/7714603412320003472'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3612643916008957855/posts/default/7714603412320003472'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://basketcase-elly.blogspot.com/2007/10/another-one-found.html' title='Another one found..'/><author><name>Elly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17099501318565717673</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_bTW_dG0ox6s/SU29fWx6bkI/AAAAAAAAAKQ/rldpBh-7HbE/S220/P1030239.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_bTW_dG0ox6s/RwJkyt2JKjI/AAAAAAAAABk/p0lWz9kSWOg/s72-c/french.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3612643916008957855.post-8385123645158337014</id><published>2007-10-01T23:53:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-10-02T00:23:46.312+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Amas Veritas</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;Remember the movie Practical Magic? The one with Sandra Bullock and Nicole Kidman in it. Two sisters, witches and cursed by their ancestor to not have love because she was hurt by the man she loved. If you do, I'm sure it'll end up in your favourite list of movies. It wasn't sappy but light and sweet. The three clips and the bottom are my favourite ones in the movie. First is the one when they were kids and one of the sisters made a spell called "Amas Veritas" , a love spell so to speak. She made this spell because who ever loved the Owens sister are bound to end up dead (the curse by the ancestor). Second and third are pretty much the songs that I like in the movie. It says alot.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; So she made the spell, she asked for the most impossible man. She thought by doing that, he wouldn't be real. Thus she wouldn't fall in love or suffer a broken heart when her love dies. In some way, I wish that was possible. To make a spell that prevents you  from going through a broken heart. You love for so long, you work for it. Nurture the whole relationship to find in the end that it was all nothing. Yes you do learn somethings out of the relationship. Things to not do in the next.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="425" height="350"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/PZRL76IEYpE"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="wmode" value="transparent"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/PZRL76IEYpE" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" width="425" height="350"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="425" height="350"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/SLI12uN6k5k"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="wmode" value="transparent"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/SLI12uN6k5k" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" width="425" height="350"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="425" height="350"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/KsBxeZaREn0"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="wmode" value="transparent"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/KsBxeZaREn0" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" width="425" height="350"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&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/3612643916008957855-8385123645158337014?l=basketcase-elly.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://basketcase-elly.blogspot.com/feeds/8385123645158337014/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3612643916008957855&amp;postID=8385123645158337014' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3612643916008957855/posts/default/8385123645158337014'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3612643916008957855/posts/default/8385123645158337014'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://basketcase-elly.blogspot.com/2007/10/amas-veritas.html' title='Amas Veritas'/><author><name>Elly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17099501318565717673</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_bTW_dG0ox6s/SU29fWx6bkI/AAAAAAAAAKQ/rldpBh-7HbE/S220/P1030239.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3612643916008957855.post-4271833238148509522</id><published>2007-09-29T01:49:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2008-12-10T11:19:12.258+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Gyms are the DEVIL!!!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_bTW_dG0ox6s/Rv0_H92JKgI/AAAAAAAAABM/lfwP5OVI-z4/s1600-h/main_01.gif"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_bTW_dG0ox6s/Rv0_H92JKgI/AAAAAAAAABM/lfwP5OVI-z4/s400/main_01.gif" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5115314157856041474" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;It's official, I hate them gyms. Especially the one to your left. They really suck you dry. Its  no wonder they refused cash and insist on your credit card as mode of payment. They know they can easily take advantage of you.  Majority of their clients are young executive. All caught up with their work and almost no time to themselves.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You see, when you sign up with the gym above, your contract runs up to 2 years. You're tied to them. You're not allowed to join a second gym. Like the devil, the minute you sign that contract they'll suck you dry. In my case, my contract ended in july and by right they shouldnt charge me because I've paid the first and last month during registration.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To my surprise I found out they continued charging me when my contract has expired. Bare this in mind, they are a major INTERNATIONAL GYM. And they couldn't spare a moment to write or call me to inform that my account has expired or to ask whether i'd want to resume with them.&lt;br /&gt;The just charge my card. HOW SICK IS THAT!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When i called to complain, they said well you didn't come by and sign some letter. And i replied i called and i went over and NO one i repeat NO one told me the proper steps. Everyone said its noted. This was done months before my account expired. They wanted to reimbursed me with this VIP card. I can't believe this. They had the chick to ask me to pass a gym card to someone else. After what i knew about them. NO FUCKIN wayy!!!. i'm not going to promote their company. Bad Service!!!!! Bad Attitude!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tomorrow is "D" Day..where i bring hell to that god forsaken place. I'm so not going to settle with a blardy coupon. That won't do. Someone's gonna bleed.&lt;br /&gt;&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/3612643916008957855-4271833238148509522?l=basketcase-elly.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://basketcase-elly.blogspot.com/feeds/4271833238148509522/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3612643916008957855&amp;postID=4271833238148509522' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3612643916008957855/posts/default/4271833238148509522'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3612643916008957855/posts/default/4271833238148509522'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://basketcase-elly.blogspot.com/2007/09/gyms-are-devil.html' title='Gyms are the DEVIL!!!'/><author><name>Elly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17099501318565717673</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_bTW_dG0ox6s/SU29fWx6bkI/AAAAAAAAAKQ/rldpBh-7HbE/S220/P1030239.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_bTW_dG0ox6s/Rv0_H92JKgI/AAAAAAAAABM/lfwP5OVI-z4/s72-c/main_01.gif' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3612643916008957855.post-4371724366095630811</id><published>2007-09-17T04:27:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-09-22T01:13:54.699+08:00</updated><title type='text'>So they confide to their mothers...</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;When communicating with ones parent, how much is too much of your personal information do you divulge to them? Where do you draw the line? To some it is completely normal to just spill everything, to tell all their dirty secrets. Mothers and daughters do this. Its like an unwritten rule. You don't share you die. You &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;dont&lt;/span&gt;' gossip you die. By unloading your emotions is like a holy bonding session between a mother and daughter. Sacred even to some. I'll go as far as to call it a woman thing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But when a guy confides mostly everything to his mum i find it odd. Look &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;i'm&lt;/span&gt; all for it when a man is in touch with his emotions and all that jargon but when he talks of personal matters, and one that involves your relationship with him, you can't but help it to be &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;alittle&lt;/span&gt; ticked off..!!! I just wonder what goes on in their mind, (their meaning the men) when they're doing this?? I mean don't they know by dissing out on their girl to their MOM !! of all person doesn't help matters. You're just giving the woman ammo to hate or use against the girl the next time shit happens. I know to some this might sound harsh but to a certain extend is true.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; Mothers are completely overly protective of their son. When they detect defect, it will all go down the hill from there. The girl can never be good in her eyes no more. You can try but i tell you this from my &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;experience&lt;/span&gt;, they'll still give you that eye whenever you come around. The kind that lingers. The demeaning type look. It isn't obvious but you just know because you can feel the heat burning right into your flesh that you just cant sit still not even for a second. You know when you have that uncomfortable feeling when you first meet you &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;bf's&lt;/span&gt; or &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;gf's&lt;/span&gt; parents that sort a interrogating aura..times that by 10. That searing heat.  Yup not something you want to go through &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;i'm&lt;/span&gt; sure.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; When you tell the bf about the look, he'll say " No ..you're just imagining it" Seriously I am not imagining it. Why on earth would i want to imagine your mother giving me the hate. I'd want her to like me man.. I mean come on seriously...think !!!!! Stop and think!!! I honestly don't mind if he's sharing his own problems. That doesn't involves us, as a couple. I'm big about that. Even friends, I &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;dont&lt;/span&gt;' tell them everything just what they need to know. I keep my relationship issues mostly to myself and &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;i'd&lt;/span&gt; like to keep it between me and the man and not anyone else.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; I &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9"&gt;dont&lt;/span&gt; share much of my relationships with my mother because i know she'd be emotional. She's be holding grudges and judging. Which is not what i want. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10"&gt;Coz&lt;/span&gt; relationship is all about the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11"&gt;roller coaster&lt;/span&gt; ride. You have good days and bad. You don't want people to go hating your love ones on account of something shitty he or she did that just one time. We're all human anyway.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; The point &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12"&gt;i'm&lt;/span&gt; trying to make is, there's so much judging and pointing fingers in the world as it is. You don't want an outsider to get in your business when they don't know jack. And because its a convenient thing to do...to point fingers.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&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/3612643916008957855-4371724366095630811?l=basketcase-elly.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://basketcase-elly.blogspot.com/feeds/4371724366095630811/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3612643916008957855&amp;postID=4371724366095630811' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3612643916008957855/posts/default/4371724366095630811'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3612643916008957855/posts/default/4371724366095630811'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://basketcase-elly.blogspot.com/2007/09/so-they-confide-to-their-mothers.html' title='So they confide to their mothers...'/><author><name>Elly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17099501318565717673</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_bTW_dG0ox6s/SU29fWx6bkI/AAAAAAAAAKQ/rldpBh-7HbE/S220/P1030239.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3612643916008957855.post-2182208016483616805</id><published>2007-09-10T23:48:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-09-16T00:47:50.456+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Other side of the rainbow</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Right this moment I can hear my good friend Bae saying this, " Dont take it personally Elly". I try but sometimes certain issues would just creep up and I'm back where I started. Lately things has been crazy. In a year I've gone through so many obstacles. Early of the year a crazy ass taiwanese woman which i might add has been paid in full by the kharmatic cycle. I doubt she learned anything but knowing that she got hers sooner than i thought gives me some comfort that there is some justice in the world.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Second obstacle, misunderstood by my bf's aunt. She told my boyfriend's mum that i yelled at her when i didn't. To make things worse the mum believed her sister. And he believed his mum. It almost caused our relationship. The fact that misunderstanding could make the relationship wobble goes to show that it wasn't as solid as i thought.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The most recent, is his bestfriend. Called me all the way from down under, not only yelled but cussed at me. Again another misunderstanding. I held on by the thread. I wanted so much just to let go and screw the guy up but i thought otherwise. I thought i'd be the water. Be the bigger person but it made me seemed weak. Which i'm not. I hate that i gave that man the impression that he scared me. Hell NO!!! But for the boyfriend and what my good friend said i let it slide and be the mature one.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;With all this hanging on my back, i can't stop but think is there much over the rainbow? I mean this whole drama seemed like a deja vu. With my past ex. Simillar scenario also misunderstood. Wrongly accused the difference is will he stand up for me. I try not letting all this get to me..His mother and sister not liking me and his best friend hating me. I try but again when you think about is there really much to hope. Is there really something good on the other side of the rainbow?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&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/3612643916008957855-2182208016483616805?l=basketcase-elly.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://basketcase-elly.blogspot.com/feeds/2182208016483616805/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3612643916008957855&amp;postID=2182208016483616805' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3612643916008957855/posts/default/2182208016483616805'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3612643916008957855/posts/default/2182208016483616805'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://basketcase-elly.blogspot.com/2007/09/other-side-of-rainbow.html' title='Other side of the rainbow'/><author><name>Elly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17099501318565717673</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_bTW_dG0ox6s/SU29fWx6bkI/AAAAAAAAAKQ/rldpBh-7HbE/S220/P1030239.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3612643916008957855.post-1080389998842148421</id><published>2007-09-05T23:23:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-09-16T00:48:14.031+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Drama..Drama..Drama</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;What an event full day. Not only have I've been accused of racking &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;someones&lt;/span&gt; relationship, I received a warning letter from the bank because of my carelessness. The wake of the day was filled with much anxiety and negativeness.That it needed to be change on the second half of the day.How a conversation between girl friends could be blown out of proportion literally. I'm starting to think that the best bet is to blog than speak or discuss among your peers. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;At least&lt;/span&gt; this way you won't be placed under the spot.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I just &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;dont&lt;/span&gt; understand some people. Why have contemplation on account of someone else. Why sometimes that they need a sign to justify their emotions. I just wonder sometimes what sorta understanding that one should have when in a relationship? Bare all the bullshit given by your partner? Let him / her walk over you?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I just don't get it. Why woman or man need to lower themselves on account of not wanting to hurt their other half. Don't they know that relationship is all about communications and patience. Nothing in the world is perfect nor &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;definite&lt;/span&gt;. I'm not claiming to be the miss know it all, but i do believe in anything you need to constantly talk. Iron out all the wrinkles.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I hate the fact that when something goes wrong, it has to be someone &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;elses&lt;/span&gt; fault. Someone must have done something. Could it just be that the relationship was weak to begin with? I guess when things such these happens you see ones maturity from their actions.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You see their characters. Even it can't be helped. I guess some people are just built that way. Well i acknowledge part the current mishaps / miscommunication was avoidable but honestly when a group of women get &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;together&lt;/span&gt; you can't help how things would turn out. The usual saying goes you can't judge the book by its cover. You think the person could take it and is on the same boat with you but you can never tell anymore. Just have to thread matters of the heart in a sensitive way.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Honestly, after all the drama, this blogger is &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;sooooo&lt;/span&gt; not gonna be relating any emotional talks anytime soon. I've given up trying to make it work and getting respect or liked by that certain party. Truthfully him being around or not doesn't determine my lively-hood. I'm gonna quote my friend mum " Matters of the heart, are things to be sorted out between two lover and not the three" . I intend to stick to that for awhile. Again &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;DRama&lt;/span&gt; !!! Drama!! Drama&lt;br /&gt;&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/3612643916008957855-1080389998842148421?l=basketcase-elly.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://basketcase-elly.blogspot.com/feeds/1080389998842148421/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3612643916008957855&amp;postID=1080389998842148421' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3612643916008957855/posts/default/1080389998842148421'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3612643916008957855/posts/default/1080389998842148421'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://basketcase-elly.blogspot.com/2007/09/dramadramadrama.html' title='Drama..Drama..Drama'/><author><name>Elly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17099501318565717673</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_bTW_dG0ox6s/SU29fWx6bkI/AAAAAAAAAKQ/rldpBh-7HbE/S220/P1030239.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3612643916008957855.post-1334154221021234348</id><published>2007-09-02T03:42:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-09-16T00:48:32.897+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Call me Ms. Sensitive</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:100%;"&gt;Yes! I'm sensitive. I can't change it. I've tried believe me. No matter how much I've tried, I still get that.."Elly, you're sensitive". I've had tonnes of people saying to me to keep it down a notch. Can you really? keep it down.&lt;br /&gt;I wonder? I've tried not showing. Ive tried brushing it off with a joke. I've tried doing the confident thing. Bottom line i still feel hurt and sensitive when something mean or sad or evil is being said to me or about me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How can't i not? How would you feel if someone would to say something mean and harsh about you? Wouldn't you react the same way? If you deny..you're lying. I'm sure that you'll feel it some where.Not in your heart but somewhere.&lt;br /&gt;If you don't then you're not human.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The common line "Don't let them get to you" I mean come on how do you actually do that. When its an obvious attack.I'm sorry that &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;i'm&lt;/span&gt; so &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;in touch&lt;/span&gt; with my feelings that the slightest comment could bring me to tears. I try my hardest to just look past it. But i can't help it. I wish I could be strong. Am i not allowed a bad day. It just infuriates me when it comes to my day...my low day, I'm left without a net.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm left to plummet to the ground. No one to rescue me or thrown me a line. I guess to some point its true, that you can do so much to care about others. Give as much as you can and &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;dont&lt;/span&gt; expect the same.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3612643916008957855-1334154221021234348?l=basketcase-elly.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://basketcase-elly.blogspot.com/feeds/1334154221021234348/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3612643916008957855&amp;postID=1334154221021234348' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3612643916008957855/posts/default/1334154221021234348'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3612643916008957855/posts/default/1334154221021234348'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://basketcase-elly.blogspot.com/2007/09/call-me-ms-sensitive.html' title='Call me Ms. Sensitive'/><author><name>Elly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17099501318565717673</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_bTW_dG0ox6s/SU29fWx6bkI/AAAAAAAAAKQ/rldpBh-7HbE/S220/P1030239.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3612643916008957855.post-8603500004845354166</id><published>2007-08-30T22:57:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-09-16T00:49:01.207+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Biggest hiccup</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;When i got home late last night, I found out that a cheque I gave to my mother was sent home. It was returned apparently due to insufficient funds. Which i found odd because i added the extra funds within the grace time limit. So much for a chilled out day. The whole night i &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;couldn't&lt;/span&gt; sleep. Worried about what might happen with this little mistake.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I remembered couple months back, my friend said that if you had a bounced cheque then you'll be black listed by  Bank &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Negara&lt;/span&gt;. So &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;yah&lt;/span&gt;, the whole night tossing and turning and sweating non stop. Worried of what would've become to my company. My baby company. Just started out and already making a stint. Finally got to sleep around 5 &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;ish&lt;/span&gt; am and woke up just in time for the bank to open.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When i got to the bank i was sweating pearls. I waited for the manager and when he finally came i was drenched. He gave me a little smile maybe to ease my nerves. We got down to it. He checked all my records. Finally he said there isn't much he could do but offer me an advice to just be more careful when writing out a cheque. He said it is a bummer that i miss the grace time by a couple of minutes when adding the additional cash but its how it work.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So the verdict is pretty this, my company will be in a "list". This list monitors your transactions for 6 months. IF you behave and don't do &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;anything&lt;/span&gt; wrong then you'll be out of it hopefully. But it'll still remain in records. Basically, it'll be a slight problem if i wish to take up a loan later on down the road.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As for Bank &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;NEgara&lt;/span&gt;, he said i &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;didn't&lt;/span&gt; have to write a letter but just be prepare if it comes my way but besides that &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;i've&lt;/span&gt; just been penalised RM 100 and added into the "list". The biggest hiccup for me . An expensive lesson most &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;definitely&lt;/span&gt;. Boy am i gonna check my cheques properly now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&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/3612643916008957855-8603500004845354166?l=basketcase-elly.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://basketcase-elly.blogspot.com/feeds/8603500004845354166/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3612643916008957855&amp;postID=8603500004845354166' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3612643916008957855/posts/default/8603500004845354166'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3612643916008957855/posts/default/8603500004845354166'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://basketcase-elly.blogspot.com/2007/08/biggest-hiccup.html' title='Biggest hiccup'/><author><name>Elly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17099501318565717673</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_bTW_dG0ox6s/SU29fWx6bkI/AAAAAAAAAKQ/rldpBh-7HbE/S220/P1030239.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3612643916008957855.post-6175797074284806528</id><published>2007-08-24T00:09:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2008-12-10T11:19:12.692+08:00</updated><title type='text'>To buy or not to buy that is the question???!!!</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_bTW_dG0ox6s/Rs2xi5j-3vI/AAAAAAAAAAg/tua5Qe_vNXE/s1600-h/canon-ixus-75.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_bTW_dG0ox6s/Rs2xi5j-3vI/AAAAAAAAAAg/tua5Qe_vNXE/s400/canon-ixus-75.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5101929166006050546" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:100%;"&gt;I absolutely love this sleek camera. It easy to carry and it has everything you need. Its slim enough to carry everywhere and take it to any occassion. Lately i've been feeling alil off for not having a camera to document my happy or sad times.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've been contemplating this past couple of months. When i first saw it, my god it was costly and then now my boyfriend saw this camera fair in One Utama and it seems they took off a couple of hundred for this model. Now i'm very very tempted. I don't know should i get it ? but its a good bargain. I just purchase myself a macbook i cant be splurging.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Arghhhhh!!! Frustrating.!! i guess its back to the drawing board. Well more like excel la and do my accounts. See where the money are..dang!! stress big time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Gotta make more money it is yooo!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3612643916008957855-6175797074284806528?l=basketcase-elly.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://basketcase-elly.blogspot.com/feeds/6175797074284806528/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3612643916008957855&amp;postID=6175797074284806528' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3612643916008957855/posts/default/6175797074284806528'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3612643916008957855/posts/default/6175797074284806528'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://basketcase-elly.blogspot.com/2007/08/to-buy-or-not-to-buy-that-is-question_24.html' title='To buy or not to buy that is the question???!!!'/><author><name>Elly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17099501318565717673</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_bTW_dG0ox6s/SU29fWx6bkI/AAAAAAAAAKQ/rldpBh-7HbE/S220/P1030239.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_bTW_dG0ox6s/Rs2xi5j-3vI/AAAAAAAAAAg/tua5Qe_vNXE/s72-c/canon-ixus-75.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3612643916008957855.post-1534051516586591657</id><published>2007-08-17T23:18:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-09-16T00:49:21.584+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Selfish you</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Sometimes i wonder, do you stop to think whether you're self centered.&lt;br /&gt;Do you not care about anything around you but yourself.&lt;br /&gt;Couldn't you maybe stop, and think she hurts too. She's in pain.&lt;br /&gt;She needs a man to stand. Talk to her.Fill her with the energy she so need.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Do you ever maybe want to hear her voice. The cries of her inner soul.&lt;br /&gt;Instead of drowning hers with your own. Couldnt you just take a step, a step on your&lt;br /&gt;own and not when she screams. Why is it hard? hard to see what is really beneath&lt;br /&gt;the whole scene.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Must it be said repeatedly, what she needs? Couldnt you put yourself in her place&lt;br /&gt;and feel what she feels? Isnt' it apparent what is wrong. Don't take it forgranted&lt;br /&gt;when everything is so quiet.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Her worth is at stake, you fail she'll fade.&lt;br /&gt;Listen close, listen well. To the messages she with held.&lt;br /&gt;For all she needs is close. Close to you and in your heart.&lt;br /&gt;&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/3612643916008957855-1534051516586591657?l=basketcase-elly.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://basketcase-elly.blogspot.com/feeds/1534051516586591657/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3612643916008957855&amp;postID=1534051516586591657' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3612643916008957855/posts/default/1534051516586591657'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3612643916008957855/posts/default/1534051516586591657'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://basketcase-elly.blogspot.com/2007/08/selfish-you.html' title='Selfish you'/><author><name>Elly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17099501318565717673</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_bTW_dG0ox6s/SU29fWx6bkI/AAAAAAAAAKQ/rldpBh-7HbE/S220/P1030239.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3612643916008957855.post-551950223853364889</id><published>2007-08-16T23:58:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-09-16T00:50:18.156+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Numerology</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;b style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Your         Life Path Number is &lt;a href="http://apps.facebook.com/astronumbers/numberdescrip.php5?number=6" target="_blank"&gt;6&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;     &lt;/b&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Your Life Path Number represents the path you should take         through life and the talents and skills you have to make your journey a         rewarding one.         &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;Your Path will lead you to build a warm home life and a stable, rewarding career. You live responsibly and learn to maintain a balance between what you give and what you receive. You are sympathetic, caring and able to give good counsel. These are qualities others will come to you for many times in your life. You see the beauty in the world and in those around you--enjoy your vision.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Your         Life Destiny Number is &lt;a href="http://apps.facebook.com/astronumbers/numberdescrip.php5?number=2" target="_blank"&gt;2&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;     &lt;/b&gt;Your Destiny Number sheds light on those things you must         accomplish in your life to be fulfilled.         &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;If your Destiny Number is 2, your purpose in life is to create and maintain balance and harmony amongst others. You make a great team player--not because you can lead your team to victory, but because you can keep the team together until victory is attained.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Your         Soul Number is &lt;a href="http://apps.facebook.com/astronumbers/numberdescrip.php5?number=3" target="_blank"&gt;3&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;     &lt;/b&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Your Soul Number describes your deepest desires and         dreams and the person you truly want to be.         &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;You desire to make people happy, laugh, and be all they can be. You want to create, have fun, and remain ever enthusiastic. You are a lover of life, and will do all you can to ensure those around you are aware of just how grand a gift life is.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Your         Personality Number is &lt;a href="http://apps.facebook.com/astronumbers/numberdescrip.php5?number=8" target="_blank"&gt;8&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;     &lt;/b&gt;Your Personality Number reveals the "external         you"--the personality traits others will know you by.         &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;The 8 Personality is ambitious, influential and powerful. They radiate strength to the point of seeming larger than life. 8 Personalities are destined to lead others. They are balanced and slightly conservative. Their confidence assures others will have confidence in them as well. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Your         Maturity Number is &lt;a href="http://apps.facebook.com/astronumbers/numberdescrip.php5?number=8" target="_blank"&gt;8&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;      &lt;/b&gt;Your Maturity Number reveals the person         you will come to be--your true self.          &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;Those with an 8 as their Maturity Number will find rewards through their accomplishments. Their early lives will be spent learning how to apply power without becoming dictatorial and finding a balance between the material and spiritual world. As you mature you will be called upon more and more often to lead others. If you learn to apply authority without becoming tyrannical you may well be thought of as one of the world's great leaders in your later years. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3612643916008957855-551950223853364889?l=basketcase-elly.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://basketcase-elly.blogspot.com/feeds/551950223853364889/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3612643916008957855&amp;postID=551950223853364889' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3612643916008957855/posts/default/551950223853364889'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3612643916008957855/posts/default/551950223853364889'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://basketcase-elly.blogspot.com/2007/08/numerology.html' title='Numerology'/><author><name>Elly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17099501318565717673</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_bTW_dG0ox6s/SU29fWx6bkI/AAAAAAAAAKQ/rldpBh-7HbE/S220/P1030239.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3612643916008957855.post-1181115636614932712</id><published>2007-08-15T23:39:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2007-09-16T00:51:13.242+08:00</updated><title type='text'>How</title><content type='html'>&lt;object height="350" width="425"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/1dmKLHDfW-0"&gt;&lt;param name="wmode" value="transparent"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/1dmKLHDfW-0" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" height="350" width="425"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:100%;"&gt;i didn't come this far for you to make this hard for me.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:100%;"&gt; and now you want to ask me "how?"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:100%;"&gt; it's like - how does your heart beat, and why do you breathe?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:100%;"&gt; how does your heart beat, and why do you breathe?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:100%;"&gt; why did you come here?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:100%;"&gt; you weren't invited.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:100%;"&gt; and you're on the outside - stay on the outside.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:100%;"&gt; and now you want to ask me "why?"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:100%;"&gt; it's like - why does your heart beat, and how do you cry?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:100%;"&gt; how does your heart beat?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:100%;"&gt; and there are some things that i'd like to figure out.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:100%;"&gt; there are some things that i can do without -&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:100%;"&gt; like you and your letters that go on forever,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:100%;"&gt; and you, and the people that were never friends.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:100%;"&gt; with all the things that you could be,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:100%;"&gt; you never could learn how to be me.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:100%;"&gt; and now you want to ask me "how?"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:100%;"&gt; it's like - how does your heart beat, and why do you breathe?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:100%;"&gt; how does you heart beat, and why do you breathe?&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/3612643916008957855-1181115636614932712?l=basketcase-elly.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://basketcase-elly.blogspot.com/feeds/1181115636614932712/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3612643916008957855&amp;postID=1181115636614932712' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3612643916008957855/posts/default/1181115636614932712'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3612643916008957855/posts/default/1181115636614932712'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://basketcase-elly.blogspot.com/2007/08/how.html' title='How'/><author><name>Elly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17099501318565717673</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_bTW_dG0ox6s/SU29fWx6bkI/AAAAAAAAAKQ/rldpBh-7HbE/S220/P1030239.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3612643916008957855.post-3483070139890327542</id><published>2007-08-14T17:07:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-09-16T00:51:51.496+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Acceptance</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;You spend your entire life wanting to be accepted by everything and everyone. You try hard at making yourself be &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;like able&lt;/span&gt; and accepted, but some how its never enough. You come to a point in your life when you just stop even wanting to try. Try to make people understand you. Try to make them get what you're all about.&lt;/span&gt;  &lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Its just so insufferable having to elaborate everything about you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You just have come to terms with everything. Accept who you are, for what you are and move on. To hell to those who claims to know you. Know your ins and outs. And to the mother who says that you're like any another predictable book, when in truth she has no idea where the true beginning is or where the end ends. Just to hell to them all.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now its all about embarking on a true journey of self acceptance and love. Nothing else. Fight for you and only you. Strive for what you want and need to survive. Be well and healthy for you. Be all that you can be to succeed. It is all that you need.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3612643916008957855-3483070139890327542?l=basketcase-elly.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://basketcase-elly.blogspot.com/feeds/3483070139890327542/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3612643916008957855&amp;postID=3483070139890327542' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3612643916008957855/posts/default/3483070139890327542'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3612643916008957855/posts/default/3483070139890327542'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://basketcase-elly.blogspot.com/2007/08/acceptance.html' title='Acceptance'/><author><name>Elly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17099501318565717673</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_bTW_dG0ox6s/SU29fWx6bkI/AAAAAAAAAKQ/rldpBh-7HbE/S220/P1030239.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3612643916008957855.post-5856960647011676152</id><published>2007-08-02T23:58:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2007-08-03T00:06:43.924+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Yoga alalalalalalall!!!</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Finally came around to doing some excersice after a long while. Was kinda nervous at first but then I got into the groove . Well so i thought. At first it was normal stuff but when you come down to warrior pose and dog fighting pose you start to feel all your joints creaking. Especially my left knee, caused i injured it a few months back.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I made the loudest cricking sound with knee when we did the warrior pose. Goes to show everything is rusty. I'm glad the session wasnt too much. It was hatha yoga chill enough for a beginner. I think after a few classes everything will be alright. The instructor was sweet didn't catch her name though. I think its Natasha. She was incredible. For someone 8 months pregnant she can sure ass stretch. Much respect yo!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cant' wait to go again. Frankly i'm over weight as it is. And ohh i cut my long hair today.Wanted something new hehehe. Lurve it for now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&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/3612643916008957855-5856960647011676152?l=basketcase-elly.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://basketcase-elly.blogspot.com/feeds/5856960647011676152/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3612643916008957855&amp;postID=5856960647011676152' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3612643916008957855/posts/default/5856960647011676152'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3612643916008957855/posts/default/5856960647011676152'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://basketcase-elly.blogspot.com/2007/08/yoga-alalalalalalall.html' title='Yoga alalalalalalall!!!'/><author><name>Elly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17099501318565717673</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_bTW_dG0ox6s/SU29fWx6bkI/AAAAAAAAAKQ/rldpBh-7HbE/S220/P1030239.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3612643916008957855.post-7652718527050374516</id><published>2007-08-01T08:32:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-09-16T00:52:42.122+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Why ? why? why?</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;I don't know what's wrong. I don't know why I have this sad feelings. I don't know why I feel like crying at times. Mostly in the morning. I wake up and i just feel this sadness from the pit of my heart. Is it because I'm not productive?&lt;br /&gt;I'm so upset with myself for letting the sadness get to me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At times, all the emotion tend to spill over to people around me.And it hurts them. I don't know how to stop it. I don't know what to do to be more assertive. I always thought that by unleashing what's inside would make things better.It turns out that it didn't. I found out the hard way yesterday. My own destructive actions nearly cost something dear to me. I just don't get it &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;sometimes&lt;/span&gt; how i can be so careless about my feelings.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I feel like those girls who'd slash their hands to feel something but I do it by being emotionally destructive when things gets crazy or out of my hands. Even when &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;i'm&lt;/span&gt; happy, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;i'll&lt;/span&gt; wonder to myself, "why am i happy?" I &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;scrutinize&lt;/span&gt; every possible thing. Figuring out the quirks of that happiness i just achieved. It sounds crazy i know but i just can't stop myself from over analyzing things.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I thought i had my life on track. I thought for this moment its all figured out. I guess &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;i'm&lt;/span&gt; still afraid of the unknown. I read somewhere everything good has risk in it. I'm on the edge. To jump is such a huge temptation but the last step is scaring me to bits. I have to do something. I have to change something. I need to feel in control again. Have a part of myself back. When will my courage kicks in&lt;br /&gt;&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/3612643916008957855-7652718527050374516?l=basketcase-elly.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://basketcase-elly.blogspot.com/feeds/7652718527050374516/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3612643916008957855&amp;postID=7652718527050374516' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3612643916008957855/posts/default/7652718527050374516'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3612643916008957855/posts/default/7652718527050374516'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://basketcase-elly.blogspot.com/2007/08/why-why-why.html' title='Why ? why? why?'/><author><name>Elly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17099501318565717673</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_bTW_dG0ox6s/SU29fWx6bkI/AAAAAAAAAKQ/rldpBh-7HbE/S220/P1030239.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3612643916008957855.post-6381263593382225318</id><published>2007-07-31T22:51:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2007-07-31T22:51:57.230+08:00</updated><title type='text'>For you</title><content type='html'>&lt;object width="425" height="350"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/D_yno94xjn4"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="wmode" value="transparent"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/D_yno94xjn4" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" width="425" height="350"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Song for my love&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3612643916008957855-6381263593382225318?l=basketcase-elly.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://basketcase-elly.blogspot.com/feeds/6381263593382225318/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3612643916008957855&amp;postID=6381263593382225318' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3612643916008957855/posts/default/6381263593382225318'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3612643916008957855/posts/default/6381263593382225318'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://basketcase-elly.blogspot.com/2007/07/for-you.html' title='For you'/><author><name>Elly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17099501318565717673</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_bTW_dG0ox6s/SU29fWx6bkI/AAAAAAAAAKQ/rldpBh-7HbE/S220/P1030239.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3612643916008957855.post-6074681476840368671</id><published>2007-07-06T00:07:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2008-12-10T11:19:13.437+08:00</updated><title type='text'>The ultimate questions</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_bTW_dG0ox6s/Ro0XwjgrJCI/AAAAAAAAAAY/s75-bkq8hxk/s1600-h/quotes.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_bTW_dG0ox6s/Ro0XwjgrJCI/AAAAAAAAAAY/s75-bkq8hxk/s400/quotes.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5083745677304603682" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Got this quotes from a good friend of mine. I saw it and it made me froze. Talk about a sign. How big of sign can this get.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3612643916008957855-6074681476840368671?l=basketcase-elly.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://basketcase-elly.blogspot.com/feeds/6074681476840368671/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3612643916008957855&amp;postID=6074681476840368671' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3612643916008957855/posts/default/6074681476840368671'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3612643916008957855/posts/default/6074681476840368671'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://basketcase-elly.blogspot.com/2007/07/ultimate-questions.html' title='The ultimate questions'/><author><name>Elly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17099501318565717673</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_bTW_dG0ox6s/SU29fWx6bkI/AAAAAAAAAKQ/rldpBh-7HbE/S220/P1030239.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_bTW_dG0ox6s/Ro0XwjgrJCI/AAAAAAAAAAY/s75-bkq8hxk/s72-c/quotes.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3612643916008957855.post-6613304371784782586</id><published>2007-06-28T01:17:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-08-16T16:27:04.400+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Funny thing about Hurt</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Funny thing about hurt, you don't know it until its too late. Mostly at the beginning you were just shocked. Once you get into the buzz of things and realised what had happen, you get upset and depressed. Sometimes I wished that instead of keeping quiet or civil about it, I'd yanked the person's chain there and then but i just don't have that evilness in me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The week had been a rather mellow week and all I wanted to do was just chill and not worry about crap but somehow or rather its been like "the critising me week". Just every corner or so some little comment are made. Just when I thought I could just slide out and shut out all the negative-ness, some hag broad had to point out my short comings. Right i suffer a type skin problem.And its called eczema. It isn't that bad as some but it is visible to everyone.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In my case, my eczema,my skin has a low healing process. Basically it takes time for my skin to heal then any regular jane or joe. I still have some chicken poxes scars from when i was in my teens and i'm in my mid 20's.I've learn to except it be comfortable in my own skin but i've just been so tormented so long that sometimes on a bad day it gets to me and old wounds just pours out. I admit i'm still rather sensitive and emotional about the subject but its not something you get over after all the mental torcher of girls should be pretty perfect thin with flawless skin.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm sure there are million girls suffering the same thing as me. I realise to a point i should be greatful and not whine about it but it hurts being point out, called out infront of everyone you care and made example of your imperfections. Its worse when you just take it and smile to the bitch that said it to you square to your face. I wished that my hurt could have kicked in faster. That i could filter out the real issue the woman was trying to make. Maybe then i could just bitch slap her but then we never get what we wish for&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&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/3612643916008957855-6613304371784782586?l=basketcase-elly.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://basketcase-elly.blogspot.com/feeds/6613304371784782586/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3612643916008957855&amp;postID=6613304371784782586' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3612643916008957855/posts/default/6613304371784782586'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3612643916008957855/posts/default/6613304371784782586'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://basketcase-elly.blogspot.com/2007/06/funny-thing-about-hurt.html' title='Funny thing about Hurt'/><author><name>Elly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17099501318565717673</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_bTW_dG0ox6s/SU29fWx6bkI/AAAAAAAAAKQ/rldpBh-7HbE/S220/P1030239.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3612643916008957855.post-8064487536025148792</id><published>2007-06-22T23:20:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2007-06-22T23:34:42.097+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Affirmations</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Finally came around to registering my company this week. 19th June 2007 Novacaine Design, its official. For a minute there i was happy and i felt i had purpose in life. A target so to speak something to strive for. I beamed when i got the registration cert and number.Felt like graduation in an odd way.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I walked out from the registration office with a little skip to my steps but when i was going up the lift everything just came down on me. This whole thing makes it legit, I am an adult. With millions of responsibilities. Everything came rushing in and i wanted to cry to make matters worse it was the red flag week, so as you can imagine the tremendous outpour of emotions.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Everything became an issue. Usually i'm never as depressed, I guess all this being older shit just got to me. I gave myself a couple of days to sort it out doesn't seem to work. In the end i wrote and said affirmations. Positive ones to give a more positive aura to my day. I don't know if it works but so far today it has given me some sort energy to repel idiots with low comprehension skills.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I literally shut my mind up the minute the bastard started to rant on. An ability i've never had before. So i guess affirmations aren't that bad in so many ways. Maybe i'll try it for a bit more see where all this takes me. Another day another drama.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3612643916008957855-8064487536025148792?l=basketcase-elly.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://basketcase-elly.blogspot.com/feeds/8064487536025148792/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3612643916008957855&amp;postID=8064487536025148792' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3612643916008957855/posts/default/8064487536025148792'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3612643916008957855/posts/default/8064487536025148792'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://basketcase-elly.blogspot.com/2007/06/affirmations.html' title='Affirmations'/><author><name>Elly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17099501318565717673</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_bTW_dG0ox6s/SU29fWx6bkI/AAAAAAAAAKQ/rldpBh-7HbE/S220/P1030239.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3612643916008957855.post-7027279832648940961</id><published>2007-06-11T15:11:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-06-22T23:19:40.879+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Ms Footie vs Ms Sappy</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt; L&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;ast Saturday, I accompanied my boyfriend to a futsal game.At first i was reluctant because I never pictured myself being the girl seating on the site lines cheering her man on.  You know the ones with pretty  lil handbags,  hair all made up wearing short  primmed skirt. I couldn't do it, nope! no way. I'm the complete oppossite. i am action girl. I love playing football. I love being in the field the adrenaline rush. I love the sweat after a long hauled game.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So anyways, yah i was asked to accompany him to a game and i had to be Ms Sappy (Nickname i came up for girls cheering their man on) for that day. We were one of the first to get there. I thought great no girls. So that means i'm going to be alone in this . Minutes later in comes a married couple of two years.Friends of my boyfriend. We said our hellos and sat down.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When the game started it was just me and the wifey. She didn't warm up at first but after a few break the ice session (by me i might add) she finally talked. The games was a bore at the beginning but picked up quite a bit after 15 minutes.The Ms Sappy's hubby was made goalkeeper. I looked at her and figured i gave her a chance before i start  forming an opinion of her. Before i actually complete the thought, she jumped on her feet and shouted " Come on baby!! Babby I love you!!" my jaw dropped completely.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm sucked into the twilight zone. The Ra-Ra girls for the mighty strong man. I had chills then. I had to  excuse myself so I wouldn't burst out laughing at her.  Oh well!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3612643916008957855-7027279832648940961?l=basketcase-elly.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://basketcase-elly.blogspot.com/feeds/7027279832648940961/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3612643916008957855&amp;postID=7027279832648940961' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3612643916008957855/posts/default/7027279832648940961'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3612643916008957855/posts/default/7027279832648940961'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://basketcase-elly.blogspot.com/2007/06/ms-footie-vs-ms-sappy.html' title='Ms Footie vs Ms Sappy'/><author><name>Elly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17099501318565717673</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_bTW_dG0ox6s/SU29fWx6bkI/AAAAAAAAAKQ/rldpBh-7HbE/S220/P1030239.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3612643916008957855.post-9086725249649088667</id><published>2007-06-06T03:19:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-06-06T03:30:39.921+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Mind Vomit</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;Decided to move my blog to blogspot instead. Looked way better and the templates aren't that complicated. Starting fresh. Lately its been hard to just get things out on paper. Ideas doesn't seem to pour out as much as before. Maybe its from all the corporate work done or maybe its from the "know it all type clients", i'm not to sure. One thing i know for sure ,I'm close to just tossing in the towels when it comes to all this corporate branding .It bores me to death.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I need a new breathe of life. I've been wanting to have an exhibition but cant seem to have a proper time to organize the whole event. Found a few people that would make an interesting mix for the exhibition but I've still got to sort things out first. Need to lay down proposals. Argh!!! I hate writing proposals. Not the best of trades I might add. Putting things onto paper nowadays seems to be tough. I don't know if its the age thing or my mind is just dry of ideas.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have to buck up and be more discipline. To succeed is to take risk. So risk here I come.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3612643916008957855-9086725249649088667?l=basketcase-elly.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://basketcase-elly.blogspot.com/feeds/9086725249649088667/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3612643916008957855&amp;postID=9086725249649088667' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3612643916008957855/posts/default/9086725249649088667'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3612643916008957855/posts/default/9086725249649088667'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://basketcase-elly.blogspot.com/2007/06/mind-vomit.html' title='Mind Vomit'/><author><name>Elly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17099501318565717673</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_bTW_dG0ox6s/SU29fWx6bkI/AAAAAAAAAKQ/rldpBh-7HbE/S220/P1030239.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
