<?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-4154723295698461872</id><updated>2012-02-16T21:36:42.298+08:00</updated><title type='text'>things I'll never say..only write</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dgr8unknown.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4154723295698461872/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dgr8unknown.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>TheGr8Unknown</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12308437323440375606</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_2En_7mynQdg/SRsDpV3F2xI/AAAAAAAAAA8/Svt4QFQjnsY/S220/DSCN3997.JPG'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>43</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4154723295698461872.post-1956508461584641895</id><published>2012-01-25T22:22:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2012-01-25T22:26:14.710+08:00</updated><title type='text'>I'll never not be your girl</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4154723295698461872-1956508461584641895?l=dgr8unknown.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dgr8unknown.blogspot.com/feeds/1956508461584641895/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4154723295698461872&amp;postID=1956508461584641895' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4154723295698461872/posts/default/1956508461584641895'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4154723295698461872/posts/default/1956508461584641895'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dgr8unknown.blogspot.com/2012/01/ill-never-not-be-your-girl.html' title='I&apos;ll never not be your girl'/><author><name>TheGr8Unknown</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12308437323440375606</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_2En_7mynQdg/SRsDpV3F2xI/AAAAAAAAAA8/Svt4QFQjnsY/S220/DSCN3997.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4154723295698461872.post-4109521451500325177</id><published>2011-08-15T15:08:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2011-08-15T15:13:35.238+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Sahur and High Heels</title><content type='html'>&lt;p align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;It was the 15th day of Ramadhan and as usual, my family was up at 5-ish AM for Sahur. And naturally, while eating sahur, we watched the idiot box in the TV room, because it’s more interesting than sitting at the dining table, watching each others’ sleepy/bored face, forcing down food in the wee hours of the morning.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Sometimes Baba got the TV remote first and changed to…drumroll please…Golf Channel 815. We couldn’t always argue with the Head of the House’s choice. I myself have got more or less acquainted to golf (tak main pun, tapi I get the hang of it laah). So when Adam Scott made a comeback by winning a Major (PGA Championship) I was kind of wow-ed. I also found it fascinating when the lady commentator said Adam Scott has a text-book golf swing (In other words, straight lines everywhere. In other words, perfect golf swing lah tuu). I wonder if Adam’s latest win has anything to do with ditching Ana Ivanovic …&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Anyway….(slapped myself for getting carried away)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;This morning though, it was Ira who got the TV remote first. Ira scanned through the movie channels and settled for a movie which title did not register in my mind, and hence I can’t mention it here. But I remember Justin Long was in it. After a few minutes of trying to work out what I was actually watching (note: brain not functioning well at 5 AM), there came a scene where the woman, while sleeping on a bed, was attacked by a horrible looking ‘creature’ which eerily crawled over her. Neurons sparked in my brain and I figured that we were watching a horror movie! NOOO, absolutely NO at that hour! No thanks if you want to remind me of The Exorcist. I grabbed the Astro remote, while shouting at Ira for her choice of channel (poor her, I felt guilty now) and flipped through to my favourite channel range… 700-ish.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;On 712, Australia’s Next Top Model Cycle 6 Finale was on. I made a comment to everyone that this episode was interesting because the host made a HUGE blunder of announcing the wrong winner. Baba and Mummy was quite amused by this fact and said “hah! jom tengok ni!”.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;And there we were, watching Aussie NTM. These models wore heels so high that Baba commented “hmmm, ada setengah kaki kot heels dia.” Congratulations, Ba. You managed to make us, the girls and Mummy laugh so early in the morning!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Then, he said “Kenapa nak pakai heels tinggi-tinggi? She’s already tall!”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;To which Mummy answered, “Biarlah, actually kan, pakai heels ni makes us more confident tau.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Baba laughed at Mummy’s comment and snigger, “ye ke?”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;I thought to myself, yes on those rare occasions that I wear high heels to work, I DO feel more confident. Albeit the real reason I wear it is to make me taller, Mummy’s statement made me realize that I wear it to feel more sure and confident of myself too. Gaya executive la, bak kata Uncle Aris. Hahahha.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;So I added, “Eh betul jugak Mi. Lina rasa more confident kalau pakai high heels.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;The next thing Baba did was so funny, I nearly choked off my kurma.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;He stood up on tip-toes to make it look like wearing heels and walked in front of us, swaying away while doing the comically mocking face of his and asking us, “Ni ke rasa confident? Tak rasa pun!!!”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;We laughed so hard at Baba’s act. Baba can be so funny you could never imagine.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Shortly after, the Azan Subuh was heard, and Kakak and I finished doing the dishes. On the way up to my room, I passed by the TV room. It turned out the Head of The House dah tukar to his favourite channel, where dimpled white balls roll on green grasses. Haih…so much for Aussie Next Top Model! We didn’t even reach the part where the host made the blunder! DKJ, DKJ….&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Selamat Berpuasa to all Muslims! May we gain much from this 2nd leg of Ramadhan.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;P/S #1: To Abang Hafeez yang tak suka sahur tu, ada interested nak join we all sahur after this??&lt;br /&gt;P/S #2: Head of The House = DKJ = Baba = :)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4154723295698461872-4109521451500325177?l=dgr8unknown.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dgr8unknown.blogspot.com/feeds/4109521451500325177/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4154723295698461872&amp;postID=4109521451500325177' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4154723295698461872/posts/default/4109521451500325177'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4154723295698461872/posts/default/4109521451500325177'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dgr8unknown.blogspot.com/2011/08/sahur-and-high-heels.html' title='Sahur and High Heels'/><author><name>TheGr8Unknown</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12308437323440375606</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_2En_7mynQdg/SRsDpV3F2xI/AAAAAAAAAA8/Svt4QFQjnsY/S220/DSCN3997.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4154723295698461872.post-1586175372042718019</id><published>2011-08-11T12:46:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2011-08-11T12:48:33.017+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Fumbling Towards That Grin - An Excerpt</title><content type='html'>&lt;p align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;A change of heart is not expected when it comes to being with him. Afif is God's creation who is perfect in every way, physical-wise and personality-wise. But Ana is asking herself why she is feeling uneasy this past few months with the man that she thought she would spent the rest of her life with. It is at these times that Ana wonders whether there is such thing as fate. and if there is, why it is so cruel to let her be in this position. A position that could be seen as perfectly coordinated, more towards a fairy-tale kind of ending, but deep inside, the uncertainty of her heart is vibrating with such atrociousness, that it is counter-reacting all those wonderful feelings of having fallen in love with Afif. Ana is afraid that soon, the wonderful feelings will be concealed, not allowing for any rescue effort. Save the frantic calls of help. Save all those happiness of being with each other. Save the drama. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Truth be told, Afif and Ana were worlds apart. If Afif is the Sun, Ana is the moon. If Afif is Mars, Ana is just plain old Jupiter. It's funny that they got together. It's even funnier that they have worked it out for 6 years. And just when they would be tied together with God as their witness, this came in. This, came right in. Yes, this, rolled in like that can of soda on a steep slide. This...this is called the secret that should have been locked and dropped into the deepest crevasse, never to be found by anyone. But somehow, it surfaced, and the truth is more than Ana could handle... &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;By: Haslina Kamaruzzaman&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;Nov 2008&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4154723295698461872-1586175372042718019?l=dgr8unknown.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dgr8unknown.blogspot.com/feeds/1586175372042718019/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4154723295698461872&amp;postID=1586175372042718019' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4154723295698461872/posts/default/1586175372042718019'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4154723295698461872/posts/default/1586175372042718019'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dgr8unknown.blogspot.com/2011/08/fumbling-towards-that-grin-excerpt.html' title='Fumbling Towards That Grin - An Excerpt'/><author><name>TheGr8Unknown</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12308437323440375606</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_2En_7mynQdg/SRsDpV3F2xI/AAAAAAAAAA8/Svt4QFQjnsY/S220/DSCN3997.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4154723295698461872.post-7070307792898365783</id><published>2011-08-04T17:38:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2011-08-04T18:17:27.514+08:00</updated><title type='text'>iPhone Killed the Novels</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;A few months ago, I bought the exclusive and so-called &lt;em&gt;cool &lt;/em&gt;iPhone4. It &lt;em&gt;was&lt;/em&gt; about time that I go with the flow and change to a stylish communication device. Oh well. It's not only a communication device, most importantly if you haven't know, the iPhone is an all-important entertainment device. Very handy indeed, especially at times of desperate measures. Keyword: bored.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;My previous phone has keypads. I mean whoever uses phones with keypads nowadays?! *sorry, berlagak. couldn' resist* Eh jap. Berries have keypads kan? *ok, I'll stop berlagak now!* ;P&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Eversince the day I bought the iPhone, I haven't been able to keep my hands off it. There's so much to do with an iPhone. Even in the house, the iPhone is CONSTANTLY beside me. A member of the family has complained that I keep looking at my phone. oops.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;However, there's a bad side to all this iPhone craze - I haven't been reading my novels! Which is quite sad if I really dwell into it. :( I mean, I love my novels. And to think that I killed my reading passion just cause of technology?! Screw you iPhone for being such a temptation!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;*Okay, back to making burgers on the iPhone. Eh jap, it's my turn to play Words with Friends on the iPhone...*&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Help!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&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/4154723295698461872-7070307792898365783?l=dgr8unknown.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dgr8unknown.blogspot.com/feeds/7070307792898365783/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4154723295698461872&amp;postID=7070307792898365783' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4154723295698461872/posts/default/7070307792898365783'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4154723295698461872/posts/default/7070307792898365783'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dgr8unknown.blogspot.com/2011/08/iphone-killed-novels.html' title='iPhone Killed the Novels'/><author><name>TheGr8Unknown</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12308437323440375606</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_2En_7mynQdg/SRsDpV3F2xI/AAAAAAAAAA8/Svt4QFQjnsY/S220/DSCN3997.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4154723295698461872.post-9118000849448941411</id><published>2011-07-11T22:17:00.004+08:00</published><updated>2011-07-11T23:18:11.271+08:00</updated><title type='text'>A revelation</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;Funny how my blog seems to be a dump of mostly the sad stories of my life. And here I am again feeling all low....&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;How you became so attached to me, I haven't got a clue. It's not what I wanted, it's certainly not what I prayed for. Because I was scared that if I put a 100% want, and constantly prayed to be with you, I'd be putting my heart on a thin thread, anticipating the fall. But what good does it make?? Despite all these, despite how hard I tried to push you away, the feelings refuse to butt out!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;Not many people know of the story of us. Who would want to share a sad ending right? Oh, I forgot we didn't even start!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;But congratulations, you somehow have the power to make me cry now and then; in the shower, right before sleep, or anytime when my mind decided to pick on you.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;I thought I needed a diversion. To see things/know people in different perspectives. But diversions didn't help. I'm far too weak to let you go.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;It was a devastating revelation I encountered today. At the back of my mind, I always wondered how I would react if you found someone else.  Oh it turns out that it's the usual dealings; with pain and tears, I turned to my blog. I wonder when I could get over you. Because that'll be the day this pain will ease away. That'll be the day, my heart will be free.&lt;/span&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;The question is: Is hate the last resort? I sure hope not. &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/4154723295698461872-9118000849448941411?l=dgr8unknown.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dgr8unknown.blogspot.com/feeds/9118000849448941411/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4154723295698461872&amp;postID=9118000849448941411' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4154723295698461872/posts/default/9118000849448941411'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4154723295698461872/posts/default/9118000849448941411'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dgr8unknown.blogspot.com/2011/07/revelation.html' title='A revelation'/><author><name>TheGr8Unknown</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12308437323440375606</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_2En_7mynQdg/SRsDpV3F2xI/AAAAAAAAAA8/Svt4QFQjnsY/S220/DSCN3997.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4154723295698461872.post-4128502307374015387</id><published>2011-04-23T18:36:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2011-04-23T18:38:49.560+08:00</updated><title type='text'>I would, if I felt it</title><content type='html'>Love is one tricky bitch. OkayThanksBye.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4154723295698461872-4128502307374015387?l=dgr8unknown.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dgr8unknown.blogspot.com/feeds/4128502307374015387/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4154723295698461872&amp;postID=4128502307374015387' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4154723295698461872/posts/default/4128502307374015387'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4154723295698461872/posts/default/4128502307374015387'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dgr8unknown.blogspot.com/2011/04/i-would-if-i-felt-it.html' title='I would, if I felt it'/><author><name>TheGr8Unknown</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12308437323440375606</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_2En_7mynQdg/SRsDpV3F2xI/AAAAAAAAAA8/Svt4QFQjnsY/S220/DSCN3997.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4154723295698461872.post-5717872287864726997</id><published>2011-03-05T18:03:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2011-03-05T19:34:00.347+08:00</updated><title type='text'>All hail the Putrajaya Botanical Gardens</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My FB status early this morning went something like this... 'Haslina Kamaruzzaman is up early to burn some naughty calories'. Indeed. The lazy (at dragging my butt to exercise) me went cycling at Putrajaya Botanical Gardens with Raimi and Hafizah (good old Bangians &amp;amp; Adelaideans they are :)). &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;Wait, I can't resist this... HOOOORAH Lina! YOU shed some sweat! Please continue for the sake of the Energizer Run in April...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;Okay. Back to Putrajaya Botanical Gardens. So you see, I was amazed when I reached this place. How come I've never known that it existed before?? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;Greens all around, serene lakes and water to keep the atmosphere cool, fresh air for the lungs, well-maintained jogging &amp;amp; bicycle tracks, fun water activities like kayak and boat cruise, not-at-all-shabby canopy bridge, small dam that resembles a teeny-weeny Niagara Falls, long boardwalks by the lake, bikes for hire, artsy Moroccan building, and of course, abundance of trees, shrubs and flower plants to satisfy the eyes. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;I'm not kidding, this is a place to escape from the daily hustle-bustle of the city. A place to chill out with your family and friends. A place to bring your kids to teach them to appreciate the wonders of nature. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;Bicycles could be hired at a cheap rate of RM4 per hour. But beware that you need to get there early as they run out fast. The 3 of us happily cycled for an hour. Thank God for gears on the bikes. The uphill ride would be painful without the gears!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;I only wished that they could open the information counter (where you hire the bikes) way earlier than 9am. I mean come on, the sun is already reaching its high by that time. 7am or 8am (at most) would be better.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;I would recommend to anyone to go there. But please, keep the place clean. It's a fact that Malaysians are famous for littering in public places. So, have some sanity people! I hope that this place could be enjoyed by us and the generations ahead too.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;Although I fell flat on my butt due to overly-excited bike ride (can't remember the last time I rode a bike!) and due to taking the road less travelled, I'm plain happy because I've discovered a place where nature is there for me to revel in. I mean, doesn't that make you happy? Of course, spending time with wonderful girlfriends is another reason I came back happy. :D&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4154723295698461872-5717872287864726997?l=dgr8unknown.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dgr8unknown.blogspot.com/feeds/5717872287864726997/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4154723295698461872&amp;postID=5717872287864726997' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4154723295698461872/posts/default/5717872287864726997'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4154723295698461872/posts/default/5717872287864726997'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dgr8unknown.blogspot.com/2011/03/all-hail-putrajaya-botanical-gardens.html' title='All hail the Putrajaya Botanical Gardens'/><author><name>TheGr8Unknown</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12308437323440375606</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_2En_7mynQdg/SRsDpV3F2xI/AAAAAAAAAA8/Svt4QFQjnsY/S220/DSCN3997.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4154723295698461872.post-7813255642378225946</id><published>2011-02-24T18:21:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2011-02-24T19:10:43.734+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Tears</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;Once, I heard that news of death of someone you know (family, relative, friend, family of friends) will come to you for 7 times subsequently (each different person) before the 'no more death news' phase starts. The cycle will then continue...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;Ever since I knew of this, everytime a death of someone I know occurs, I find that the fact above is more or less true. Although 7 is not the usual number, it's certainly more than 1.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;When I was young, and even now, I'm scared that the bad news will arrive. Especially that of someone very very close to me. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;What each of us is, is just a piece of clay. Someday we'll be buried alongside all the occupants of the soil. I know I'm not ready to leave, for there is so much I haven't done. Now, when we still have time, let's keep reminding each other that death is upon us, sooner or later. The big question is, have we done enough to prepare for the afterlife? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;Rest in peace, Kak FA's mom, a truly inspiring &amp;amp; giving person, may Allah SWT bless you. Amin.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4154723295698461872-7813255642378225946?l=dgr8unknown.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dgr8unknown.blogspot.com/feeds/7813255642378225946/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4154723295698461872&amp;postID=7813255642378225946' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4154723295698461872/posts/default/7813255642378225946'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4154723295698461872/posts/default/7813255642378225946'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dgr8unknown.blogspot.com/2011/02/tears.html' title='Tears'/><author><name>TheGr8Unknown</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12308437323440375606</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_2En_7mynQdg/SRsDpV3F2xI/AAAAAAAAAA8/Svt4QFQjnsY/S220/DSCN3997.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4154723295698461872.post-1300744147318582167</id><published>2010-09-19T23:42:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2010-09-20T00:31:57.155+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Dream interpretation</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;I was in the shower just now. According to Mummy, night shower is not a good thing. You could catch a fever. It's been 2 weeks I have been feeling like 'catching a fever'. Hmmm...whatever lah Mummy. I love you still though. :) Plus, I felt all sweaty after playing Wii Boxing with Liyana tadi. Oh, they were here since petang to eat Mummy's Nasi Dagang. And I should mention this...I love their coming-overs.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;Fresh nye rasa lepas mandi! Boleh tidur terus kot! But hair is still wet. Moreover, I'm here now to write about a sudden inspiration while showering just now - Dreams interpretation&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt; You see, while I was shampooing my hair just now, this particular dream kept coming into mind. Elevator(or 'lifts' as we Malaysians usually say). The dream involves me inside an elevator for quite a number of times. I was  in the elevator, stopping on floors. I could not recall what building it was. the weird thing is, I was alone. And it was at night. creepy betul kalau fikirkan yeah? but, if I remember, nothing bad happens. fuuhhh..nasib baik. It would have become a nightmare if something bad happens, right?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;Did some googling on dreams interpretation. At the top of the searh, Google throws me a link to this site: www.dreammoods.com&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;here's the description:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#0066cc;"&gt;Elevator                              &lt;/span&gt;                        &lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;font-family:Arial;font-size:100%;color:#0066cc;"   &gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;                              &lt;/span&gt;                              &lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt; To dream that you are ascending in an elevator, represents a rise to status and wealth. You may have risen to a higher level of consciousness and are looking at the world from an elevated viewpoint. If the elevator is moving upward in an out of control fashion or it crashes through the roof, then it indicates that you are being catapulted to a position of power in which you do not yet know how to deal with. You are afraid of the new responsibilities ahead for you. Descending in an elevator, suggests that you are being grounded or coming back down to reality. It also signifies setbacks and misfortunes.&lt;/span&gt;                                                                                                            &lt;/span&gt;               &lt;/div&gt;&lt;p style="margin-left: 15px; margin-right: 8px; margin-bottom: 0pt; font-family: trebuchet ms; text-align: justify;"&gt;                                             &lt;span style="font-size:100%;color:#0066cc;"&gt;In general, the up and down action of the elevator represents the ups and downs of your life. It also symbolizes emotions and thoughts that are emerging out of and submerging into your subconscious. Alternatively, the dream may have sexual connotations.&lt;/span&gt;               &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="margin-left: 15px; margin-right: 8px; margin-bottom: 0pt; font-family: trebuchet ms; text-align: justify;"&gt;                                             &lt;span style="font-size:100%;color:#0066cc;"&gt; To dream that the elevator is out of order or that it is not letting you off, symbolizes that your emotions have gotten out of control. It may be a reflection of your life or your career. You are feeling stuck in some aspect of your life, whether it is your career, relationship, etc.&lt;/span&gt;               &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="margin-left: 15px; margin-right: 8px; margin-bottom: 0pt; font-family: trebuchet ms; text-align: justify;"&gt;                                             &lt;span style="font-size:100%;color:#0066cc;"&gt; To dream that the elevator is moving sideways, means that your efforts are counterproductive. You are going nowhere in your work, relationship or other situation. &lt;/span&gt;               &lt;/p&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;Hmpph..I'm half sure that I was going upwards. Ok, lah, boleh YEY! however, as i said not 100% sure. so not a big YEY kot. yey je.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;Sometimes it took a few days for me to remember a dream. It's like suddenly, out of the blue, a certain dream emerge in my head. Have you experienced that? Tell me I'm not alone! &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;Eh, boleh buat research lah pasal dreams. I'm sure in this era, research on dreams is done very thoroughly. I bet there's some kind of a machine where they could capture your dreams? (I blame Hollywood movies on this thought). If not pun, a machine that could analyse your dreams through brain activity. Such an interesting subject to do research on kan?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;Recurring dreams is another weird thing. I do experience it. But what do they mean? At the top of my head, repeated dreams:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;1. I'm in a basement carpark, trying to find a way out. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;2. Me living in a house with many residents. Like a dorm. Location is always the same.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;3.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;*yawn again*&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;let's sambung this post nanti. mengantuk nya! kita pause dulu ye...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&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/4154723295698461872-1300744147318582167?l=dgr8unknown.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dgr8unknown.blogspot.com/feeds/1300744147318582167/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4154723295698461872&amp;postID=1300744147318582167' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4154723295698461872/posts/default/1300744147318582167'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4154723295698461872/posts/default/1300744147318582167'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dgr8unknown.blogspot.com/2010/09/dream-interpretation.html' title='Dream interpretation'/><author><name>TheGr8Unknown</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12308437323440375606</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_2En_7mynQdg/SRsDpV3F2xI/AAAAAAAAAA8/Svt4QFQjnsY/S220/DSCN3997.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4154723295698461872.post-8437913505663267421</id><published>2010-09-19T00:07:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2010-09-19T01:14:48.541+08:00</updated><title type='text'>I'm a keeper, not a thrower</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;So i was being so un-me petang today. went through my room and kemas what needs to be kemas ages ago. okay, maybe part of it was because guests are coming tomorrow (Note:Mummy will prepare her famous nasi dagang. yumm!). And i found many things that reminds me of what happens in the past few months(includes 12 months ago). You see, I keep things. you name it...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;1. movie tickets&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;2. concert tickets &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;3. MPH receipt for a novel "Love the one You are With"( nanti dapat rebate tax maa..as if i have ever paid tax lah...gaji pun berapa je..but i have a feeling next year is my maiden year to pay tax)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;4. Maybank withdrawal receipt. correction: receiptsssssssssssss&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;5. photos when i was 12 years old (somehow they were on my dresser. piled up waiting to be kept back into albums)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;6. birthday card from Mummy and Baba&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;7. wedding invitations of dear Adelaide friends&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;8. Last year's raya card from Anis&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;9. This year's raya card from Pijah (the only 2 raya cards i got this year. the other was from my CIO Dato Razali. He gave every Muslim a raya card. coolness betul.)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;10.  expired MPH vouchers (bummer!)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;11. OBM photo. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;12. Folded for who-knows-how-many-times OBM song sheet. no i didn't turn out singing "I've got the OB spirit, up in my head!". coz it's just no fun singing it alone...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;12. orchestra itenarary that i went with 'a' guy. (i did mention the past months kan? months can easily be years ago also). ok, this brought back painful memories, which i don't feel like talking about right now... &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;13.  a cloak keychain from Sweden. thanks kakak dear!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;14.  MNG blouse tag. Yes, i keep brand tags too. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;15. Maxis bills&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;16. a brochure to a resort in Pulau Kapas. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;17. a Chinese stamp with my name in Chinese letters. Thanks abg hafeez dear! which reminds me of u. i miss you, and kak niza, and Umar chomot. :(&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;18. the receipt to A Famosa bungalow that i went with Raimi and the girls. brought back memories of our trip to Melaka (last year kot). That bungalow ada private swimming pool siott. and we sure had a great time lepak by the pool...and gossip lah :P&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;19.  MARA slip that says i'm 4 months overdue. oopss. but dah settle those overdues. months ago dah settle. i paid in advance summore after that!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;20. a post-it note that says - "There's a kind of love that gives you the courage to be better than who you are. One that makes you feel that anything is possible.." When i found it, i stuck it straight onto my magnetic board.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;21. banyak lagi...but i'm too tired to list it all down. (remember i have to wake up early tomorrow. guests are coming. I should end this post soon!)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;So you see why i call myself a keeper? i KEEP things. little things, big things. things that will REMIND me in the future what i did. what i bought. who broke my heart. when exactly i had a good time with girlfriends. why i need to pay bills/loans on time. how i ended up going to Yuna's concert (Liyana had a lot to do with it). and more importantly, why a photo taken 13 years ago was brought out, piled on my dresser.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;I don't ever call them junks. all these bits and pieces are memories i truly cherish, even the painful ones should be reminded...so to keep myself from doing the same mistakes again.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;if i had just throw all the receipts away, that happy journey to Pulau Kapas with Camy and Raimi might have been erased from a portion of my memory. Who knows? I might have forgotten the fact that love DOES exists after all. it just never lasts as long as i wanted it to be.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;All this also reminds me that I need to delve on ways to practising &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:trebuchet ms;" &gt;smart storage&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt; in my &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:trebuchet ms;" &gt;small room&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt; ;). I believe IKEA has the answer.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Good night all!&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/4154723295698461872-8437913505663267421?l=dgr8unknown.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dgr8unknown.blogspot.com/feeds/8437913505663267421/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4154723295698461872&amp;postID=8437913505663267421' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4154723295698461872/posts/default/8437913505663267421'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4154723295698461872/posts/default/8437913505663267421'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dgr8unknown.blogspot.com/2010/09/im-keeper-not-thrower.html' title='I&apos;m a keeper, not a thrower'/><author><name>TheGr8Unknown</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12308437323440375606</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_2En_7mynQdg/SRsDpV3F2xI/AAAAAAAAAA8/Svt4QFQjnsY/S220/DSCN3997.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4154723295698461872.post-3079924568374030113</id><published>2010-03-27T12:57:00.004+08:00</published><updated>2010-03-27T13:50:18.400+08:00</updated><title type='text'>It's alright, I'm checking out</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;I can't figure out which one hurts most; knowing I made a fool of myself or simply knowing the truth.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Sometimes you do things just because your instincts tells you so. Sometimes you do things just because others told you to do it. But no matter how much I depend on others' say, it always wounds down to my instinct that has the final say.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;There are a lot to reason out on why I thought my instinct &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;font-family:trebuchet ms;" &gt;was&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt; right. But then again, there are a lot of reasons that doesn't make perfect sense. I went for it anyway, because it just &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;font-family:trebuchet ms;" &gt;felt&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt; right. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Sometimes I ask myself why it's easy for others, and not me. Truth is, I know the answer to my own question already.  An answer that will make me look at a brighter patch out of the darkness. And that's how I pick myself up and thought the tears is just not worth it...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4154723295698461872-3079924568374030113?l=dgr8unknown.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dgr8unknown.blogspot.com/feeds/3079924568374030113/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4154723295698461872&amp;postID=3079924568374030113' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4154723295698461872/posts/default/3079924568374030113'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4154723295698461872/posts/default/3079924568374030113'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dgr8unknown.blogspot.com/2010/03/its-alright-im-checking-out.html' title='It&apos;s alright, I&apos;m checking out'/><author><name>TheGr8Unknown</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12308437323440375606</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_2En_7mynQdg/SRsDpV3F2xI/AAAAAAAAAA8/Svt4QFQjnsY/S220/DSCN3997.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4154723295698461872.post-671959903993780298</id><published>2010-01-02T01:54:00.004+08:00</published><updated>2010-01-02T03:06:14.936+08:00</updated><title type='text'>The cycle</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;Strange things are happening to my cycle.  If you haven't notice, I'm from the XX chromosome... otherwise known as a female...a woman. Put 2 and 2 together, you can guess which 'cycle' I'm talking about. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;It's worrying me, and I have no idea where it's coming from. I don't think I'm in a state of stress. Er, totally not. Mummy suggested that maybe it's because I've been soo excited about the new job. Errr...yes I am happy with the new job...but 'excited' is not the word! Hmmpph, last time this happened was when I was in Form 4. I was homesick in MRSM Jasin. S0 that explains the earliness. And that time I couldn't be bothered.  Wobbly menstruation at 16 is not a big deal. Did I say wobbly menstruation? gee..where did that come from...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;It's not just the earliness...ada lagi points which I don't think I feel like putting into words right now.  beginning to think that readers might find this post grrrrross and personal. If u are a female, u'd understand. Guys? I don't think so. tapi kan...sooner or later, guys have to understand cause at some point, u will be living with a woman kan? kan? :)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;Let's see.. at the top of my head, I can list down 2 reasons why the cycle is behaving badly..&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;ol style="font-family: trebuchet ms; text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;li&gt;after seeing not-baby-blue guy. Hormones racing, maybe? Hey, I am not to blame cause he does look like he has the body of Jacob Black from Twilight. His face is like Chuck from Gossip Girl. In case you don't know, I have a crush on these 2 actors. Maybe seeing these characteristics on one person, in real flesh can do wonders to my hormones. Hahahhaha...&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;too much intake of Chocolate purchased from the recent Langkawi getaway. No further comments on that. &lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ol&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;It's also bothering me because I can't sembahyang now. bila dah lama tak perform prayers, rasa tak sedap hati, seriously. :( Could this is be a test and lesson about Allah S.W.T nikmat to me? the nikmat to do ibadah? Pls Ya Allah, can I have the nikmat back?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;Ever since the abnormal cycle, mood swing also happens. pastu rasa 'down' pun sometimes ada. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;I hate these feelings.  &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/4154723295698461872-671959903993780298?l=dgr8unknown.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dgr8unknown.blogspot.com/feeds/671959903993780298/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4154723295698461872&amp;postID=671959903993780298' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4154723295698461872/posts/default/671959903993780298'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4154723295698461872/posts/default/671959903993780298'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dgr8unknown.blogspot.com/2010/01/cycle.html' title='The cycle'/><author><name>TheGr8Unknown</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12308437323440375606</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_2En_7mynQdg/SRsDpV3F2xI/AAAAAAAAAA8/Svt4QFQjnsY/S220/DSCN3997.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4154723295698461872.post-4508652320768394340</id><published>2009-12-31T17:09:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2009-12-31T17:19:31.033+08:00</updated><title type='text'>New year and what nots</title><content type='html'>I'm in denial. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can't really be a consistent blogger. The urge is there now and then. But for it to materialise, well just see the frequency of my posts! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's the eve of new year! a decade has gone in this millenium. wasn't it yesterday we celebrated the Millenium?? cepatnya dah 10 tahun! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Blogging from work. last day of the year. takde sapa kat office. work pun takde lagi.. did i mention to you that I've changed my job? :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Work-life balance is in store in my current company. I'm loving it! tapi so far part work tu tak banyak lagi.. hahahha.. haih Lina... banyak keje complain, takde keje pun complain. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ok chow! 5:15 PM !&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;HAPPY NEW YEAR everyone! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;P/S: Wishing I could go out celebrate this new year, but i don't think there's any plans for that, as far as my family is concerned. So balik rumah je kot...and main Wii !!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4154723295698461872-4508652320768394340?l=dgr8unknown.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dgr8unknown.blogspot.com/feeds/4508652320768394340/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4154723295698461872&amp;postID=4508652320768394340' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4154723295698461872/posts/default/4508652320768394340'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4154723295698461872/posts/default/4508652320768394340'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dgr8unknown.blogspot.com/2009/12/new-year-and-what-nots.html' title='New year and what nots'/><author><name>TheGr8Unknown</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12308437323440375606</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_2En_7mynQdg/SRsDpV3F2xI/AAAAAAAAAA8/Svt4QFQjnsY/S220/DSCN3997.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4154723295698461872.post-3306089711639613841</id><published>2009-10-18T02:11:00.005+08:00</published><updated>2009-10-18T03:29:04.366+08:00</updated><title type='text'>My Dear..</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wish I could have done more.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;I wish I had given you more support as a friend.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;I wish I could be there to comfort you.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;I wish I can call you to hear your voice and know that you're ok.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;I wish I could see you to know that you are doing fine.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;But who am I to you?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;Who am I to call you everyday?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;Who am I to constantly be there for you?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;SMS, I can. But how many SMS should I send?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;I'm afraid that I'm stepping over the line..which might push you away..&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;For I know, that space is what you need right now.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;And that is why I pray...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;I pray that you'll be ok.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;I pray that you and your family will cruise through this tough time.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;I pray that arwah will rest in peace.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;This is your time of suffering.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;Sometimes I wonder when my time will be.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;How I will carry through Allah SWT's test.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;But I dare not delve into this matter now.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;What I learn from all this is that I should cherish my parents.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;To be thankful for still being able to see my parents everyday.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;It's a wake up call. A call that I, we as humans, need to be reminded of once in a while.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;For life is short, and we never know who will go next..&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;Until we meet again. My dear, I hope that you take good care of yourself.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;**A close friend's dad left this world earlier this week. Al-fatihah to his dad. May he rest in peace and tergolong dlm org2 yg beriman....Ameen. **&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;*** I doubt this friend is reading this. But if he does, Alhamdulillah. Pls do take care of yourself ok!***&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4154723295698461872-3306089711639613841?l=dgr8unknown.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dgr8unknown.blogspot.com/feeds/3306089711639613841/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4154723295698461872&amp;postID=3306089711639613841' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4154723295698461872/posts/default/3306089711639613841'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4154723295698461872/posts/default/3306089711639613841'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dgr8unknown.blogspot.com/2009/10/my-dear.html' title='My Dear..'/><author><name>TheGr8Unknown</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12308437323440375606</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_2En_7mynQdg/SRsDpV3F2xI/AAAAAAAAAA8/Svt4QFQjnsY/S220/DSCN3997.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4154723295698461872.post-4446253930222097433</id><published>2009-10-13T23:55:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2009-10-14T00:35:39.127+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Is this what I've become? Pls no..</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms; font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Things I rarely do nowadays:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;1. Read the Holy Al-Quran at least once a day&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;2. Read novels or chic-lits &lt;/span&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;3. Keep in-touch with close(and best) friends.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;4. Listen to music while in the train.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;5. Blog&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;6. Go to cinemas&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms; font-weight: bold;"&gt;Things I find myself doing nowadays:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;1. Think of work everyday (that includes weekends).&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;2. Cringe when some people's number from work appears on my mobile phone.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;3. Drive by myself at night to sites.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;4. Sleep while in the train on my way to work (if i manage to get a seat).&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms; font-weight: bold;"&gt;Things I should be doing:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;1. More ibadah. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;2. Exercise!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;3. Find priorities in my life - carrier is not all there is.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;4. Eat healthy.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;5. Drink vege juice.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms; font-weight: bold;"&gt;How to do what I should be doing?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;1. Start simple, and build up.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;2. Change my job. (eh?)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4154723295698461872-4446253930222097433?l=dgr8unknown.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dgr8unknown.blogspot.com/feeds/4446253930222097433/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4154723295698461872&amp;postID=4446253930222097433' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4154723295698461872/posts/default/4446253930222097433'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4154723295698461872/posts/default/4446253930222097433'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dgr8unknown.blogspot.com/2009/10/is-this-what-ive-become-pls-no.html' title='Is this what I&apos;ve become? Pls no..'/><author><name>TheGr8Unknown</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12308437323440375606</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_2En_7mynQdg/SRsDpV3F2xI/AAAAAAAAAA8/Svt4QFQjnsY/S220/DSCN3997.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4154723295698461872.post-7358961891845602570</id><published>2009-04-15T01:00:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2009-04-15T02:10:37.568+08:00</updated><title type='text'>One</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When one is fond of someone, what does one do? Quite a number of times, one thought of expressing one's feelings to that someone. BUT, one cannot say it out to that someone because one is too afraid of the outcome. Well, one does not want to be embarrassed and humiliated if that someone rejects one. What one is trying to avoid in the first place is that 'broken-hearted' outcome. Ok, maybe not thaaat severe..try disappointment..try dejected..try lost of a good friend..&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;One thinks that it would be better in April. Month to date, nothing has been brighter. One already invited that someone for an outdoor activity. Errkss, that someone seems not to be interested pulak. What else could one do? One is already feeling that one is clapping with one hand. Another thing that one feels uncomfortable with is the girl gets guy issue. Nevertheless, one's wise relative advised one that in this age, one should not feel uncomfortable to chase after guys(err, that definitely sounds weird. To heck with it..). The truth is, that special someone's type.. who is kind, fairly jaga agama, and good-looking(bolehlaa) do not pass by easy these days. So, one should go for it! One thinks so too. But one is still shy and doesn't have the guts to be super-outfront like that Gigi girl in "He's Just Not That Into You". By the way, one watched that movie last weekend, and one loves it!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;To make matters worse, one is already thinking that that someone already found  a special someone. Of course, one hasn't asked &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-family: verdana;"&gt;casually&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt; to that someone if that someone already has a special someone. One just couldn't get to that point...even casually!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;One is willing to give up this silent fight(whatever that means). But that someone keeps coming back to one's head.  One is also tired of playing the are-you-really-interested-in-me? game. One figures one should give up soon. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;One thing one heard is that one should set love(or in this case, fondness) free and wait for it to come back by itself. Well, it's either that or &lt;/span&gt;...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;.....He's Just Not THAAAT Into Me....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ohhhhhh... crap...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;P/S: Apparently I watched Bicentennial Man a kazillion times.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4154723295698461872-7358961891845602570?l=dgr8unknown.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dgr8unknown.blogspot.com/feeds/7358961891845602570/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4154723295698461872&amp;postID=7358961891845602570' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4154723295698461872/posts/default/7358961891845602570'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4154723295698461872/posts/default/7358961891845602570'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dgr8unknown.blogspot.com/2009/04/one.html' title='One'/><author><name>TheGr8Unknown</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12308437323440375606</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_2En_7mynQdg/SRsDpV3F2xI/AAAAAAAAAA8/Svt4QFQjnsY/S220/DSCN3997.JPG'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4154723295698461872.post-6595794338872693602</id><published>2009-03-12T23:50:00.007+08:00</published><updated>2009-03-13T01:16:53.609+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Warning: Bad, bad words inside</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;What is a four letter word that comes to my mind right now? Fuck. Shit. Damn. Crap. No, not Fuck as in sex. Fuck as in you are boiled-over-with-rage-fuck. Fuck as in your day just keeps dissapointing you. Of all these, I find Fuck is the most that does the job right, except I've never been able to blurt it out...not even unexpectedly. Frankly, saying Oh, Fuck! is much more appealing than Oh, Shit! or Oh,Damn!. Of course there is Celaka too.  But Celaka is like too bad for me. I don't know why... There's Bollocks too, but when I heard it came out of Hugh Grant's mouth, I think Bollocks is not so brutal at all. To some, these words have become the essence of their every sentence. But to &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;most well-mannered/civilized people&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;, these are the words uttered when in shitty or raging situations....or even &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;font-family:trebuchet ms;" &gt;feeling&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt; shitty.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Now, that's a clue as to why you are finding me writing this, right this moment.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Don't mind my choice of words. Indeed, this blog is titled "Things I'll Never Say...only write". With that, I meant that I've never say out loud &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;the 'F 'word&lt;/span&gt;, not once that I can remember, in my life(&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;font-family:trebuchet ms;" &gt;trying&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt; out saying that word out is a different story...). I only managed 'Eff', or 'Fish'(which is invented by my cousin, if I'm not mistaken). Shit is normal to me though. And crap too. Damn also. That's because they sound much more 'courteous' of all the bad words, and less severe too.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;I myself wonder why we are so keen to speak sourly. It's appealing because you look cool saying it. Well, maybe &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;font-family:trebuchet ms;" &gt;you&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt; think you look cool. The fact is &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;font-family:trebuchet ms;" &gt;you&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt; don't. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;font-family:trebuchet ms;" &gt;I&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt; don't. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;font-family:trebuchet ms;" &gt;We&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt; don't.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Fuck it. That's the last&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;corrupted 'F' word&lt;/span&gt; you'll get from me...I promise.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4154723295698461872-6595794338872693602?l=dgr8unknown.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dgr8unknown.blogspot.com/feeds/6595794338872693602/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4154723295698461872&amp;postID=6595794338872693602' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4154723295698461872/posts/default/6595794338872693602'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4154723295698461872/posts/default/6595794338872693602'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dgr8unknown.blogspot.com/2009/03/warning-bad-bad-words-inside.html' title='Warning: Bad, bad words inside'/><author><name>TheGr8Unknown</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12308437323440375606</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_2En_7mynQdg/SRsDpV3F2xI/AAAAAAAAAA8/Svt4QFQjnsY/S220/DSCN3997.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4154723295698461872.post-627482032908127469</id><published>2009-02-20T00:01:00.007+08:00</published><updated>2009-02-20T01:36:22.675+08:00</updated><title type='text'>One for the many days</title><content type='html'>&lt;div  style="text-align: justify;font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Hear, hear...I'm still here. Still alive and kicking (kicking the nyamuks on my foot right now. masa bile lah nyamuk masuk in my room nih!).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh crap, I've been inconsistent. No posts for over a month. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Anis&lt;/span&gt;, my best &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;gf&lt;/span&gt;, gave me the wake-up call.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Eh Lina! &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;dah&lt;/span&gt; lama &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;tak&lt;/span&gt; update blog!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;...&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;errkkksss&lt;/span&gt;.. right. dead right. it's been long!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;BTW, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;Anis&lt;/span&gt; just celebrated her 24&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;th&lt;/span&gt; Birthday (the day ended 1 minute ago). Instead of me giving her a birthday surprise, it was she who gave me a surprising news! :) Only hoping the best for u &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;Anis&lt;/span&gt;. I told u this &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;Anis&lt;/span&gt; lady is hot, didn't I? &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9"&gt;hehehehe&lt;/span&gt;..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So much has been going on. For sure, I have my views on those animals who killed innocent lives in Gaza. Yup, if u r involved in mass murder of innocents and support mass killings of innocent people, consider yourself as an uncivilised person..worse than animals, to be much precise. God made you a human. Why do you have to behave inhumanely? If I, who have much respect for the Western world, I who have not experience myself the sufferings of war, I who have not lost any of my family members in war, could feel such &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;hatred and anger&lt;/span&gt; to the Israelis and its allies, think of those Palestinians who are there, fighting for a right to live on their own land but only ended up being labeled as terrorists. Think of those who were being suppressed of freedom on their own land. Think of the parents who have lost their sons and daughters. Think of the kids who watched their parents die in front of their eyes. Those children will hold grudge to the Israelis for the rest of their lives. Loathe and hatred. That's what the Israelis brought into this world. I will remember this for the rest of my life. And the phosphorous bombs? That is so not cool...I will tell my children and my grandchildren of the stories of the Israelis. Of how this is worse than the holocaust. It's as simple as the saying goes...Do good, you will get goodness in reply. Do bad, then only expect the worst.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I hope for peace. I pray for peace. I hope that we, all religions can live peacefully. Give and take----That's the 1st rule of living with another person.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now, on a much lighter note...Australian Open tennis championship took place a few weeks ago. I was there to witness the heat of Melbourne last year. Enjoyed every second of tennis last year (No doubt,  coming from me). This year, I only watched it on &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10"&gt;Astro&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11"&gt;Supersport&lt;/span&gt; and from live radio-cast on the web. that &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12"&gt;Verdasco&lt;/span&gt; male is hot! I remember I watched him play last year in one of the ATP tour. 1st impression - OK, he's hot. 2&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_13"&gt;nd&lt;/span&gt; impression -  OK, he's definitely hot and definitely playing some good tennis. Then, I found out he was dating Ana &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_14"&gt;Ivanovic&lt;/span&gt; (&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_15"&gt;hmmm&lt;/span&gt;, interesting). Of course this even &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_16"&gt;hightened&lt;/span&gt; my interest in him to a new level! So, I was eyeing him when Aussie Open 2009 started. Boy, my instinct was right! I mean, that &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_17"&gt;Nadal&lt;/span&gt;-&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_18"&gt;Verdasco&lt;/span&gt; semi-final?? Yours truly screamed all the way through the match. Best defence-offense tennis &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_19"&gt;i've&lt;/span&gt; ever seen in my life! hands down to &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_20"&gt;Verdasco&lt;/span&gt; and &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_21"&gt;Nadal&lt;/span&gt; for producing those nail-biting, finger-tapping, mouth-screaming tennis.  I like!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh ya, on a much much lighter/revealing note, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_22"&gt;someone's&lt;/span&gt; making my heart go all &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_23"&gt;whooosshy&lt;/span&gt; these past few weeks.. Who? &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_24"&gt;Adalah&lt;/span&gt;.. :) Jeng jeng jeng...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4154723295698461872-627482032908127469?l=dgr8unknown.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dgr8unknown.blogspot.com/feeds/627482032908127469/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4154723295698461872&amp;postID=627482032908127469' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4154723295698461872/posts/default/627482032908127469'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4154723295698461872/posts/default/627482032908127469'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dgr8unknown.blogspot.com/2009/02/one-for-many-days.html' title='One for the many days'/><author><name>TheGr8Unknown</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12308437323440375606</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_2En_7mynQdg/SRsDpV3F2xI/AAAAAAAAAA8/Svt4QFQjnsY/S220/DSCN3997.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4154723295698461872.post-5192821761187554301</id><published>2008-12-10T16:43:00.004+08:00</published><updated>2008-12-10T17:59:12.105+08:00</updated><title type='text'>long post? maybe next time lah.</title><content type='html'>Just when things were spiraling down for me, they came spiraling back up? Life...i am beginning to understand you (yet again).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Praise to Allah. Hush hush for now. Hoping for the best, and hoping it will indeed come true.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4154723295698461872-5192821761187554301?l=dgr8unknown.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dgr8unknown.blogspot.com/feeds/5192821761187554301/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4154723295698461872&amp;postID=5192821761187554301' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4154723295698461872/posts/default/5192821761187554301'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4154723295698461872/posts/default/5192821761187554301'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dgr8unknown.blogspot.com/2008/12/long-post-maybe-next-time-lah.html' title='long post? maybe next time lah.'/><author><name>TheGr8Unknown</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12308437323440375606</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_2En_7mynQdg/SRsDpV3F2xI/AAAAAAAAAA8/Svt4QFQjnsY/S220/DSCN3997.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4154723295698461872.post-7701959802603673877</id><published>2008-12-02T13:52:00.008+08:00</published><updated>2008-12-02T23:39:54.710+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Time for a new Frontier</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;I am starting to think that this is not worth it. That I was denying the fact that I'm actually at the loser's part of the bargain. The experience is good, the name is good, the boss I'm reporting to is good, but behind the curtain, there are more deception than I could ever imagine.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;One of us has 'succumbed' to a greener patch (but the green doesn't contain much of the darker shade). They say it takes time to get there. But that is only to get to a pale patch? How long to get to the darker shade of green? Am I willing to wait? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;I am even thinking...is this legit? Is third party a way to cut cost? How could they use us? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Maybe it's time for a new frontier. Baba warned me how bad this is. But I was hard-headed and was determined to jump to my first job. He's right. After all, he is the Veep of HR of an honourable company. I still remember how unhappy (and did I see a flash of anger?? no, not to me lah. to whoever is responsible) when I laid out the contract and benefits. I guess he knows best.&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/4154723295698461872-7701959802603673877?l=dgr8unknown.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dgr8unknown.blogspot.com/feeds/7701959802603673877/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4154723295698461872&amp;postID=7701959802603673877' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4154723295698461872/posts/default/7701959802603673877'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4154723295698461872/posts/default/7701959802603673877'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dgr8unknown.blogspot.com/2008/12/time-for-new-frontier.html' title='Time for a new Frontier'/><author><name>TheGr8Unknown</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12308437323440375606</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_2En_7mynQdg/SRsDpV3F2xI/AAAAAAAAAA8/Svt4QFQjnsY/S220/DSCN3997.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4154723295698461872.post-7952227744217656459</id><published>2008-11-29T13:18:00.009+08:00</published><updated>2008-12-02T06:55:04.073+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Sarah's new Single</title><content type='html'>It's another piece of what makes Sarah, Sarah McLachlan. Haunting yet soothing voice, good music, and real lyrics can never go wrong. I just found that she has separated from her husband Ash. and this song is about that separation.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm just ecstatic that she hasn't put a stop to her gift of making good music. Yes! A new album! Even if it's a greatest hits album, there are new songs which I'm sure won't let me down. I'll definitely get one soon. Check out this new single, 'U Want Me 2'. Listen closely to the lyrics...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;U Want Me 2 - Sarah McLachlan&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span&gt;you walk on by&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;"&gt; clueless and so high&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;"&gt; following your aimless path&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;"&gt; away from us&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;"&gt; your so far away&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;"&gt; and what can i say&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;"&gt; cause i cant be the one&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;"&gt; you wanted me to be&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;"&gt; [Chorus]&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;"&gt; so tell me how do you feel &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;"&gt; its so confusing&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;"&gt; if you let it all go it will fall apart&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;"&gt; do you want me to stay and say&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;"&gt; "i still want you"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;"&gt; you want me too dont you?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;"&gt; so what are we saying&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;"&gt; our edens a failure&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;"&gt; a made up story to fit the&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;"&gt; picture perfect world&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;"&gt; the one with "i do"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;"&gt; and "I love you"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;"&gt; and "we are made for each other"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;"&gt; is forever over now&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;"&gt; [chorus]&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;"&gt; I hope there's forgiveness&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;"&gt; in the distance between us&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;"&gt; can we make the lives ahead of us&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;"&gt; a better place to be&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;"&gt; [chorus]&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Check out the video.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NE7tuJTXfO8"&gt;http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NE7tuJTXfO8&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Of course, Sarah's live performance is even better than the original song, as always...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object height="349" width="425"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/8fcilOp0eJo&amp;amp;hl=en&amp;amp;fs=1&amp;amp;color1=0x5d1719&amp;amp;color2=0xcd311b&amp;amp;border=1"&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/8fcilOp0eJo&amp;amp;hl=en&amp;amp;fs=1&amp;amp;color1=0x5d1719&amp;amp;color2=0xcd311b&amp;amp;border=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" height="349" width="425"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And 'Angel' was there too...check this out, a beautiful performance...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object height="349" width="425"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/22V6ZHjjxBY&amp;amp;hl=en&amp;amp;fs=1&amp;amp;color1=0x5d1719&amp;amp;color2=0xcd311b&amp;amp;border=1"&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/22V6ZHjjxBY&amp;amp;hl=en&amp;amp;fs=1&amp;amp;color1=0x5d1719&amp;amp;color2=0xcd311b&amp;amp;border=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" height="349" width="425"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And if you are still in the mood of Sarah Mclachlan, I suggest you play 'Building a Mystery'...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object height="349" width="425"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/WA5q5uwJvWY&amp;amp;hl=en&amp;amp;fs=1&amp;amp;color1=0x5d1719&amp;amp;color2=0xcd311b&amp;amp;border=1"&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/WA5q5uwJvWY&amp;amp;hl=en&amp;amp;fs=1&amp;amp;color1=0x5d1719&amp;amp;color2=0xcd311b&amp;amp;border=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" height="349" width="425"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;"&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/4154723295698461872-7952227744217656459?l=dgr8unknown.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dgr8unknown.blogspot.com/feeds/7952227744217656459/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4154723295698461872&amp;postID=7952227744217656459' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4154723295698461872/posts/default/7952227744217656459'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4154723295698461872/posts/default/7952227744217656459'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dgr8unknown.blogspot.com/2008/11/sarahs-new-single.html' title='Sarah&apos;s new Single'/><author><name>TheGr8Unknown</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12308437323440375606</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_2En_7mynQdg/SRsDpV3F2xI/AAAAAAAAAA8/Svt4QFQjnsY/S220/DSCN3997.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4154723295698461872.post-7858395586942841523</id><published>2008-11-26T01:30:00.005+08:00</published><updated>2008-11-26T16:40:11.517+08:00</updated><title type='text'>I've still got sands in my shoes</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;I'm back. And jetlag too. My sleep clock has been in a state of confusion this past week.  Poor my body and mind. I guess a massage will soothe all confusion. Anyone?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;(I'm suppose to sleep now. Am working tomorrow for crying out loud! Can't afford to lose more Annual Leave or Unpaid Leave. arrgh...)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;It was an AWEsome trip to the land of of the super-power and Hollywood-ville (or so they call). I'll share with you some of the highlights. Can't spill all now..sorry. Maybe I'll do it bit-by-bit. But here's some facade(mostly good, of course) of what you can expect.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;- The most turbulence-filled flight I've ever experience. The bumpiness made me thought we were going to crash. now, that's scary. Alhamdulillah, we are all safe and back home now.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;- Disneyland was terrific. Universal Studios was a different kind of terrific-ness. Enough said.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;- Roller-coasters. Drops. Sharp turns. Splashes. The Simpsons ride. Special effects. My kind of adrenaline-rush rides. I like...No, I love...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;- KA Cirque Du Soleil in Las Vegas.....awesome-ness to the core! It made me want to join acrobatics classes....ha ha.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;- Saying hi to Grand Canyon at last. BUT, only for 40 minutes????? WTF. na-uh, not happy with that.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;- Practising my shopaholic trait in US Factory Outlet could be one dangerous activity. It didn't get any better when we visited the outlets 3 times. Crazy low prices for premium brands. seriously. For Coach lovers, buy in US factory outlets. coz you'll be paying 3 times less the price in Malaysia.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;- Too much Chinese Food. Kow chow aaa..&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;- Chicken/beef deficient is a definite no-no to me. I'll only last a week. Too much seafood also tak best lahhh!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;- I was a victim of a snatch thief in San Francisco. He pulled, I pulled back. I fell down, he pulled my bag still. Baba came to the rescue. Baba pulled me and my bag back. The jerk said sorry??? Alhamdulillah I'm safe, Baba's safe, my bag is safe. Traumatised when i think of what could be worse.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;- Waking up early and arriving late to superb hotels. I wish we had taken the free and easy trip, where we can leisurely take our time to explore here and there. Nope, it's a tour package. Luckily with a great tour group. And Jerry, our tour guide (actually Geri) to lead us. She said Tom was at home.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;The problem with good things is they always come to an end. Traveling is a good thing to me. I hate it when it ends. haiiiiihhhh...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;And oh, I've already asked Baba when and where our next trip would be.... ;)&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/4154723295698461872-7858395586942841523?l=dgr8unknown.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dgr8unknown.blogspot.com/feeds/7858395586942841523/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4154723295698461872&amp;postID=7858395586942841523' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4154723295698461872/posts/default/7858395586942841523'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4154723295698461872/posts/default/7858395586942841523'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dgr8unknown.blogspot.com/2008/11/ive-still-got-sands-in-my-shoes.html' title='I&apos;ve still got sands in my shoes'/><author><name>TheGr8Unknown</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12308437323440375606</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_2En_7mynQdg/SRsDpV3F2xI/AAAAAAAAAA8/Svt4QFQjnsY/S220/DSCN3997.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4154723295698461872.post-6722771072143155438</id><published>2008-11-10T23:27:00.009+08:00</published><updated>2008-11-11T00:44:04.663+08:00</updated><title type='text'>The Tale of Miss Potter..a rather short one, that is.</title><content type='html'>&lt;div  style="text-align: justify;font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:webdings;font-size:130%;"  &gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: times new roman; font-style: italic;"&gt;'There's something delicious about writing those first few words of a story. You can never quite tell where they will take you. Mine took me here, where I belong.'&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: times new roman; font-style: italic;font-size:130%;" &gt;- Beatrix Potter -&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A beautiful quote by a beautiful writer/illustrator. Watching 'Miss Potter' takes me back to the days of living in the UK. Being 12, I was able to appreciate the surroundings and to stamp in my mind how lucky I was to be able to experience living there. At times, my thought will be zoomed to that 1 year of living in the land of the English. Oh, how wonderful it was...truly.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Beatrix Potter is (or should I say 'was'?) from the Hills and Valleys of the Lake District. We actually went to parts of the Lake District. It was a road-trip; Coventry-Scotland-Coventry. A few stops we had were Shakespeare-upon-Avon, (now, why does that sound wrong. let me try again. Stratford-upon-Avon...aah-huh, i think i got it right. It's the hometown of Shakespeare. Hence the mix-up!), the Lochness (where Nessie the lake monster resides), Lake District (of course), and some other places I cannot remember. Only 4 of us -- 12-year-old-me, Baba, Mummy, and Ira, who was around 5 months old at that time. I remember going to the visitor house of Beatrix Potter. The house was set in a hilly area. If I recall, many came and there was not enough space to park. Hence, we had to squeeze into the small spots that the hilly place offered. And if I'm not mistaken, we reached there when dusk was on its way. So, the visitor shop/house was nearly closing. We didn't have much time to explore. It was more or less a brief stop. But I remember the atmosphere...windy, chilly, and a breath of fresh air from the countryside. Sublime...just sublime.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If I had my way, I would settle on the countryside, where trees drape the hills and valleys, and streams line up the rocky edges. And maybe, just maybe...a rabbit in blue brass-buttoned jacket running around the bushes? Ah, lovely scene! Just lovely! :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4154723295698461872-6722771072143155438?l=dgr8unknown.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dgr8unknown.blogspot.com/feeds/6722771072143155438/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4154723295698461872&amp;postID=6722771072143155438' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4154723295698461872/posts/default/6722771072143155438'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4154723295698461872/posts/default/6722771072143155438'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dgr8unknown.blogspot.com/2008/11/tale-of-miss-pottera-rather-short-one.html' title='The Tale of Miss Potter..a rather short one, that is.'/><author><name>TheGr8Unknown</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12308437323440375606</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_2En_7mynQdg/SRsDpV3F2xI/AAAAAAAAAA8/Svt4QFQjnsY/S220/DSCN3997.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4154723295698461872.post-2374664844160622443</id><published>2008-11-10T09:12:00.008+08:00</published><updated>2008-11-10T09:50:42.406+08:00</updated><title type='text'>The Path of Thorns</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify; font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;It's less than a week to go. This Saturday, we will jet-set to the US for a 12-day break. I should be excited. I should be ready by now. But no. I haven't even pack a single thing. I haven't dig out my collection of winter clothing. I haven't bought the comfy shoes I intend to buy for this trip. I have not replenish my contact lenses supply. I have not transferred last year's Aussie trip videocam DVD into the computer... no, not ready with empty mini DVDs for the videocam. I haven't done much preparation, at all.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Things at home are still not as they normally are. Despite the makeover party hosted by my sis-in-law last weekend at PNB Darby Park Apartment, I haven't recovered from THE event of last week. The party did put my thoughts off for a while, what with the sauna-makeover-photoshoot-karaoke till 3 am. But as soon as it finishes, I was back to the gloomy phase that I am hating right this minute.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is killing me. This is affecting me at work. I want to end this.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I need to talk to her. But it's not as easy as it sounds. We don't do 'talkings' when things are tense. The way our family works is to keep it inside...until time heals all pain.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've been acting weirdly all week. No-one at home is asking why. Only Ira noticed last night by saying "Why are you so cranky nowadays?" Well, at least she noticed. and I love her for that.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4154723295698461872-2374664844160622443?l=dgr8unknown.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dgr8unknown.blogspot.com/feeds/2374664844160622443/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4154723295698461872&amp;postID=2374664844160622443' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4154723295698461872/posts/default/2374664844160622443'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4154723295698461872/posts/default/2374664844160622443'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dgr8unknown.blogspot.com/2008/11/path-of-thorns.html' title='The Path of Thorns'/><author><name>TheGr8Unknown</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12308437323440375606</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_2En_7mynQdg/SRsDpV3F2xI/AAAAAAAAAA8/Svt4QFQjnsY/S220/DSCN3997.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4154723295698461872.post-3222952523038544916</id><published>2008-11-07T23:30:00.011+08:00</published><updated>2008-11-08T00:56:42.928+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Down, down, down</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify; font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;This has been an 'eventful' week for me. Fingers and other parts crossed (no, not the religious cross. God help me, I'm a Muslim!) I hope it'll end fantastically with that relaxing Slumber/Makeover partaay hosted by my sis-in-law at PNB Derby Park Apartment. Yes! I sooo need the Karaoke therapy too!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Monday morning started with a lot of drama, tears, guilt, and even a handful of anger. It is hurtful when the one thing that I'm most scared of to happen to someone I love....the D word,  and that someone had the courage to say to me "What? Do you want me to die soon?" with seriousness. It took me days to recover from this. Frankly, I have not recover a 100%. Tears welled up my eyes on those times that I think about it. How could she ask me that? I would NEVER wish that for her. This all started with the tons of laundry at the washing area after last weekend (no, not only mine, the others' laundry too). I never thought that the impact of that question/statement would hit me with so much force.  It's like she thinks less of me, and those times that I &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;do&lt;/span&gt; actually help-out means nothing to her. Those bitter feelings have gone away as the week rolled out. But the recovering part was hard to go through. I wish that we could talk things out, because at the moment, things are being left unsaid.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That being said, it didn't go any better as I had to do the RMS monthly report this week (which is stressful because numbers could be cruel to you) . Plus, I had to co-handle RMS-CAMEL training with the vendor. Plus, an unexpected task for me suddenly came out of nowhere, no thanks to a certain person. Did I mention that I reach home around 8pm every night this week? Being tired didn't make anything much easier. And oh, it's &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;that&lt;/span&gt; time of the month. I guess my hormones did some somersaults...which made things a little bit more complicated and tensed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My sinful saviour is chocolate. Of course, the primary saviour is God Almighty. Always doa that I would survive this, and things will eventually go well. Alhamdulillah, I am nearly completing the week. :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And oh... what a mark in history...Good on ya Obama! I am still not ready to make nice to the previous administration.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4154723295698461872-3222952523038544916?l=dgr8unknown.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dgr8unknown.blogspot.com/feeds/3222952523038544916/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4154723295698461872&amp;postID=3222952523038544916' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4154723295698461872/posts/default/3222952523038544916'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4154723295698461872/posts/default/3222952523038544916'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dgr8unknown.blogspot.com/2008/11/down-down-down.html' title='Down, down, down'/><author><name>TheGr8Unknown</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12308437323440375606</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_2En_7mynQdg/SRsDpV3F2xI/AAAAAAAAAA8/Svt4QFQjnsY/S220/DSCN3997.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4154723295698461872.post-646600446909377131</id><published>2008-11-02T01:08:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2008-11-02T01:21:56.059+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Let's talk about love</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-family: georgia;font-family:trebuchet ms;" &gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-family: georgia;font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:130%;"  &gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;There's a kind of love, that gives you the courage to be better than who you are, NOT less than who you are. One that makes you feel that anything is possible. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;font-size:130%;" &gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-family: georgia;font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:130%;"  &gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;font-size:130%;" &gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-family: georgia;font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:130%;"  &gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; - Nicholas Sparks, 'Nights in Rodanthe'&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;I didn't keep count how many times I cried while watching 'Nights in Rodanthe'. Truth be told, at times, without realizing that my tear factory was at work, tears streamed down my face. Yes, I'm a sucker for tear-jerkers. Even though it was quite a slow watch, anyone who cares about love would find that there's a really strong message in that movie. and maybe, just maybe, the fact that 2 of my favorite actors (Richard Gere and Diane Lane) are the leads, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;font-family:trebuchet ms;" &gt;did&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt; make a difference on how my perspective of that movie went. I also want to mention that Richard Gere has NOT lost &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;font-family:trebuchet ms;" &gt;it&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt; at all. As old as he may be, he's still in my list of TOP 5 Most Sexy Actors of all times; Kevin Costner, Daniel Craig, Gabriel Macht, and Leo Dicaprio are the other four.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;I'm in no position to say that I know all about love. Because the truth is, in my previous relationships, I've been confused and somewhat dumb-founded by the idea of being in love. Nevertheless, experience is still experience, and from my experience, it is easy to be in love, but to keep on being in love is not the teeniest bit easy at all. As time goes by, and as we know the other person more, we'll find their true colours ...and those colours could be as dull and horrible and yucky as KFC's Twister they produce nowadays (I bought one last week. Pfftt..A major let down. The wraps used to be so full of greens, big, and chunky and tasty, and filled with mouth-watering sauces. Baik beli Subway, ohkay!!!!!!!!) . God help me, I'm comparing them with food??? Ooops...And no, I'm not pin-pointing at any of my ex-es. Siapa terasa, terasa lah. Yup, they do deserve a better comparison, but I'm fasting right this minute &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;font-family:trebuchet ms;" &gt;(draft this when I was fasting)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;, and as a result, food is in my mind! :p&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Probably one of the greatest fear of mine is not finding THE ONE. The One that I couldn't be bored with. The One that would be my rock. The One who makes me laugh and cry. The One who I could tease and him doing the same to me. Even The One who will stay up with me to watch Tennis matches in the early hours of the morning (ha ha ha). The One that I could look at, and thank God for finding him. The One that I could hold on to and trust. As sappy as that sounds, which woman doesn't want that in their life?? genetically weird woman kot... But if I find someone, how would I know he's The One? Worse, what if he's The One for me, but to him, I'm not The One? Haisshhh...have I watched too many movies???&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;I was young when my first love came..not that I'm thaaat old now...but he was too much to cope with. I was 19 at that time. and the fact that I was in my first year of my undergrad degree, fights and unhappiness were just too much to handle. the end of our relationship could be due to me being immature in handling &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;font-family:trebuchet ms;" &gt;a&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt; relationship. or maybe due to him being clingy all the time. Heck, let bygones be bygones, but frankly, I wouldn't say that I regret the relationship. I look at it as a lesson. To be more wise and careful next time. It didn't kill me, it only made me stronger.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;The next person came in a rush. Long distance didn't make it any better. was it a rebound? I myself do not know. I only know that I was unsure when he first asked me. But I told myself to give it a try. Nope, it didn't turn out good. And I'm awfully sorry for that. At the end of the day, I'm happy that we are still good friends. He still calls me once in a while.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;The similarities of them both is that I'm the one who called the last shot. It's plain unimaginable (to me) that I can do that...twice. I gather it's my style of defense. Add a pinch of immaturaty, there you go..bye bye bye. When I look back now, I wish that I had not been too big of a quitter.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Now, why would I write about such personal stuff? It must be the hormones. It must be..&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;There may come a time when I think that this is just too personal to share. My mind is not navigating right now. So, if you are reading it now, lucky you..&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/4154723295698461872-646600446909377131?l=dgr8unknown.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dgr8unknown.blogspot.com/feeds/646600446909377131/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4154723295698461872&amp;postID=646600446909377131' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4154723295698461872/posts/default/646600446909377131'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4154723295698461872/posts/default/646600446909377131'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dgr8unknown.blogspot.com/2008/11/lets-talk-about-love.html' title='Let&apos;s talk about love'/><author><name>TheGr8Unknown</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12308437323440375606</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_2En_7mynQdg/SRsDpV3F2xI/AAAAAAAAAA8/Svt4QFQjnsY/S220/DSCN3997.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4154723295698461872.post-8735307139644964793</id><published>2008-10-24T09:10:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2008-10-24T09:25:06.633+08:00</updated><title type='text'>My Kakak</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;I love, I love, I love my big sister, kakak. I'm sorry for being a pain in the ass last night...again...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;Despite all, you are the one who is the sensible one..to be able to handle my mood swings and baseless anger at times, only you can do that (besides Mummy lah).&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;I love you kakak...and thanks for driving me to work, again.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;XOXO&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4154723295698461872-8735307139644964793?l=dgr8unknown.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dgr8unknown.blogspot.com/feeds/8735307139644964793/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4154723295698461872&amp;postID=8735307139644964793' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4154723295698461872/posts/default/8735307139644964793'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4154723295698461872/posts/default/8735307139644964793'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dgr8unknown.blogspot.com/2008/10/my-kakak.html' title='My Kakak'/><author><name>TheGr8Unknown</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12308437323440375606</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_2En_7mynQdg/SRsDpV3F2xI/AAAAAAAAAA8/Svt4QFQjnsY/S220/DSCN3997.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4154723295698461872.post-6525176418191078378</id><published>2008-10-24T00:38:00.006+08:00</published><updated>2008-10-24T01:13:32.658+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Why Dido and Missy could be my best buddies</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;It's 12.30-ish (AM). I've just done packing for the Terengganu escapade tomorrow night...or technically tonight. While waiting for the layer of mask on my face to dry off, let's get into the mood of my mini retreat to Camy's pad in Terengganu. (tmrw is a working day, to heck with it!). Gosh, it would be just like the old days. I'm all excited to be on this first trip with girlfriends since I came back from Australia. Yey! Yey! (and we'll be snorkeling too!)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;Here's a few snippets of why I decided to put the subject as it is...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt; I've always thought that I would love to live by the sea,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt; To travel the world alone and live my life more simply,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt; I have no idea what's happened to that dream,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt; Cos there's really nothing left here to stop me.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;- Dido, Life For Rent -&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Let's take the train to anywhere, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt; I wanna feel the wind in my hair with you. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt; Let's tell them all, that soon they'll know,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt; How very wrong they were to think we'd never go.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;- Missy Higgins, Don't Ever -&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;Aaahh, the sheer joy of escapades...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;I should sleep now....nanite...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4154723295698461872-6525176418191078378?l=dgr8unknown.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dgr8unknown.blogspot.com/feeds/6525176418191078378/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4154723295698461872&amp;postID=6525176418191078378' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4154723295698461872/posts/default/6525176418191078378'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4154723295698461872/posts/default/6525176418191078378'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dgr8unknown.blogspot.com/2008/10/why-dido-and-missy-could-be-my-best.html' title='Why Dido and Missy could be my best buddies'/><author><name>TheGr8Unknown</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12308437323440375606</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_2En_7mynQdg/SRsDpV3F2xI/AAAAAAAAAA8/Svt4QFQjnsY/S220/DSCN3997.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4154723295698461872.post-2440236983533487014</id><published>2008-10-16T15:22:00.004+08:00</published><updated>2008-10-24T01:20:43.984+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Friends That Matter</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;1. Anis MD&lt;/span&gt; &lt;ul style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;li&gt;My BFF-Best Friends Forever . I had someone who doesn't know what BFF means, hence the meaning...u know who you are ;)&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Anis is a woman pursued by many...hahahaha...(sorry anis, I just can't resist!). But for guys out there, sorry, she's already taken. :P&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Despite us being in Jasin for 2 years, and living in the same block and also the same wing, we were not close...until the phase of Sunway College arrived. &lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;In Sunway College, I lived with her in the same apartment for weeks only (or is it a month? cannot remember. But it was not long.) But in such a short time, I discovered that Anis is like me. We bonded well. She knows what I like, want, and need .. and i too the same of her. Finding a girlfriend who is similar to me and understands me, at that time, is a first in my life. No wonder when she left Sunway College to pursue her Medic dream, i felt hollow. And no more shopping trips with her to Pyramid after she left? na-uh, not cool!&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;This one time, I used to breakdown real hard when I was in Australia..all due to programming stuff. The worst I became in my life. No hope. No aim. I don't even have the nerve to talk to Mummy or Baba. Anis was the only person I can think of to talk to. I felt much better after that. That's also the beauty of being a muslim. When you are lost, Allah SWT will guide you. Even if sometimes you don't feel like you've been guided. Think again..because Allah SWT did play a role. And if not for having a religion to grasp on to and anis's shoulder to cry on, I think I would not have found my way here.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;On a lighter note, WE ARE shopaholics and shopaholics can't get enough of Sophie Kinsella's creations. :)&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Anis could be the candidate who could complete my sentence. Though, how I wish I could have the same from the other gender...;)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;We each have a pair of the same Goggles jeans (which I still wear), and the same stripey black-orange t-shirt. And no, we haven't gone out wearing the same clothes. errr..boria is kind of creepy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;We think the same thinks, we like the same likes. The rest as they say, is history.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Hold on...if we like the same likes, and my kind of guy is her kind of guy....O-Owww, danger! hehehe...no lah, let's not get guys in our way kan, Anis? =D&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;2. Raimi Slumber&lt;/span&gt; &lt;ul style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;li&gt;Those who know me well, and know Raimi well, would have this same perception ---&gt; Raimi and I are 2 different people with different personalities. And it's a wonder how we could live together for 4 years in Australia. Hehehe..i guess the secret behind this is the fact that we are 2 dreamers who can't get enough of travelling and the taste of adventure.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Raimi is the intelligent one. A 'First Class' lady herself, Raimi would always ace her exams. My 'sifu' in studies could be impatient (at times lah..hehehe. sorry,but sometimes, i can be slow to pick up!), but she's not 'kedekut ilmu' or knowledge stingy (???), as they say. Always there to help others to learn, Miss Raimi proved that she is a saint. And saints always get good marks! Indeed!&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;One of our greatest cheapskate adventure: Going to Thirsty Merc concert at Adelaide Unibar...except we were not inside. We were outside the bar, on the stairs of Union Building (where the bar is located), and opening our ears widely to hear Thirsty Merc's songs behind the wall.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:courier new;" &gt;Lina: Eh, stage kat blakang dinding ni lah. patut lah boleh dgr. clear jugak lah (&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;it wasn't that clear..more dBs than recognizable sounds&lt;/span&gt;). hah, ni ade lubang kecik. cepat letak mic mp3 kat sini. boleh record concert nih (&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;that was a time when i was so naive..ok lah..not naive, more to stupid...you cannot record a concert using an mp3 with a microphone opening o f 1 cm. Bull*#@t sound is what you get!&lt;/span&gt;)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;later on...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:courier new;" &gt;Raimi: Eh, lagu Someday, Someday! Eh chop...bukan lah..ke lagu Summertime hah? (&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;squinting eyes and trying hard to hear through the wall..&lt;/span&gt;). Someday, Someday lah...ala, maksudnye concert ni nak habis dah..&lt;/span&gt;   &lt;ul style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;li&gt;Raimi is my driver in Adelaide. Hahahha..That's because I'm crap at driving a manual car. I tried once or twice...errr..with the condition of our dirt-mobile, i dare not sacrifice the lives of others on the road. O=)&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;I wouldn't have completed my undergraduate degree on time, without Raimi. She was a motivator, a reason to push myself to be at her level (though I couldn't really get there..hehehe), and of course a good friend and shoulder to cry on when those treacherous programming burden took stage. &lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;3. FA the Wise&lt;/span&gt; &lt;ul style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;li&gt;My steady chat buddy. &lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;The wise one.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Time and time again, she tries to convince me that I'm still young. OK (but that's only because she's OLDer than me). hehhe. i think i'm old lah...for a 23 year-old...I AM old. Old enough to not do the stuff I used to do, like playing at the playground and being plain silly. Gosh, it's tiring to be matured.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Always the one who wins arguments/issues (being the wise one does that to her).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;I will always be younger than her. That's the cool part. hehehhe..and I could use that as my defense. and on those rare occasions, make fun of her....yes, i repeat, rare occasions only.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt; I could consider her as a big sister. What with all the advices!! hehehe. No, really, i treasure those do's and don'ts, Kak FA. :)&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;A good companion on those dreary/stressful/sleepy office hours.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;  &lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;P/S: Family members are not suppose to be in this list. So, if anyone kecik hati/merajuk, don't!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4154723295698461872-2440236983533487014?l=dgr8unknown.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dgr8unknown.blogspot.com/feeds/2440236983533487014/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4154723295698461872&amp;postID=2440236983533487014' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4154723295698461872/posts/default/2440236983533487014'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4154723295698461872/posts/default/2440236983533487014'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dgr8unknown.blogspot.com/2008/10/friends-that-matters_16.html' title='Friends That Matter'/><author><name>TheGr8Unknown</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12308437323440375606</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_2En_7mynQdg/SRsDpV3F2xI/AAAAAAAAAA8/Svt4QFQjnsY/S220/DSCN3997.JPG'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4154723295698461872.post-7218494104818816811</id><published>2008-10-13T22:47:00.006+08:00</published><updated>2008-10-14T00:13:57.978+08:00</updated><title type='text'>What's left of humanity</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify; font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;Take a step back towards the uncivilized world. Back then, all the funky gizmos that we have now just didn't exist. In the age of dinosaurs (as Malays would say...'zaman dinosor'), humans lived WITHOUT half the things that we are depending on to go through our daily lives today. By that, I mean mobile phones, cars, internet, computer, electricity yada yada yada. Of course, me myself am amazed at any cool gadgets that is invented. However, what troubles me most is....within the hype of discovering new things, humans became less educated, less aware, less interested, and less concern about the subject of...humanity...which is what made us called humans in the first place, if i were to put it directly.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How is it that a girl is raped back in an alley somewhere? How is it that mass murders were conducted because the others belonged to another religion? How is it that a group of people decided to hijack planes and bang them into a tower? How is it that a suicide bomber killed himself and sacrificed others around him in the good name of a religion? How is it that a country decided to wreck a whole nation just to find a man who was believed to have weapons of mass destructions(and oh, they still couldn't find the so-called weapons even after the man served his death-sentence? How is it that a man decided to have a shooting spree at a school? How is it that a man fathers his own daughter's children? How? How is it that these people DID NOT have an ounce of humanity in them, to go about in this world and toyed with lives?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As a Muslim, I am going to touch on the basics of Islam. Islam itself means 'peace'. It saddens me that some people tarnished the name of Islam. How could suicide bombings create peace? Yes, we are allowed to defend ourselves when situations arise. But that's the end of it. Full stop. To roam around bombing and killing innocent people is not the right path to peace.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;News of this and that, here and there, just puzzled me on why such things had taken place. The fact is, we are eating ourselves away. Civilization is just a mirage after all. We want to believe that we are civilized, but how could we, when unimaginable things are occurring right in front of us. Could it be that the more we seek, the less we become? If that's the case, I dread the future. Because by then, most people are not worth the term human-beings anymore. And that's a recipe for disaster for this world.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4154723295698461872-7218494104818816811?l=dgr8unknown.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dgr8unknown.blogspot.com/feeds/7218494104818816811/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4154723295698461872&amp;postID=7218494104818816811' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4154723295698461872/posts/default/7218494104818816811'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4154723295698461872/posts/default/7218494104818816811'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dgr8unknown.blogspot.com/2008/10/whats-left-of-humanity.html' title='What&apos;s left of humanity'/><author><name>TheGr8Unknown</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12308437323440375606</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_2En_7mynQdg/SRsDpV3F2xI/AAAAAAAAAA8/Svt4QFQjnsY/S220/DSCN3997.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4154723295698461872.post-3741288923323887854</id><published>2008-10-07T18:40:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2008-10-07T18:48:04.865+08:00</updated><title type='text'>a quicky</title><content type='html'>i need a break from figures, charts, explanations...and oh..RMS...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;effects of early month reporting.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and why is the RTD data doesn't tally with RMS ????&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;oh, maybe tomorrow will be a better day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;oh, and selamat hari raya everyone! my Raya was jam-packed with drama, fun, and traffic jams.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and why am i having diarrheoa...again??&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ok, bye..baba needs me to be at his office in a jiffy.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4154723295698461872-3741288923323887854?l=dgr8unknown.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dgr8unknown.blogspot.com/feeds/3741288923323887854/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4154723295698461872&amp;postID=3741288923323887854' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4154723295698461872/posts/default/3741288923323887854'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4154723295698461872/posts/default/3741288923323887854'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dgr8unknown.blogspot.com/2008/10/quicky.html' title='a quicky'/><author><name>TheGr8Unknown</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12308437323440375606</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_2En_7mynQdg/SRsDpV3F2xI/AAAAAAAAAA8/Svt4QFQjnsY/S220/DSCN3997.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4154723295698461872.post-8221442454735410701</id><published>2008-09-24T07:59:00.005+08:00</published><updated>2008-09-24T08:32:04.023+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Here's to hates and a wish</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;I hate it that I have to depend on someone to go to work.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;I hate it that public transport is not a feasible alternative to go to work.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;I hate it that Baba had to leave home at 6.55 am, and arrived at 7.25 am, when he could have left a bit later and arrive before 8.00 am.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;I hate it that Baba waited for me outside the house compound, with the engine on.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;I hate it that I had to rush outside to the car, without wearing my tudung properly.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;I hate it that after Baba dropped me in front of TNB Bangsar, I got teary eyes while on the way to Abdullah Hukum LRT station.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;I hate it that this tiredness is slowly affecting me.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;I hate it that I am not getting the extra sleep, when I could have gotten it if I leave home a bit later.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;I hate it that I arrived early at work to an office floor full of desks, but no people (2 doesn't count)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;I hate it that I arrived at the office at 7.50 am, when I could have arrived by latest 9.30 am.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;I hate it that I had to start early everyday and end my day late.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;I hate it that I have to depend on someone to go back home too.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;I hate it that I had to start my day with all these hates.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;I hate it that I'm getting emotional with this  post.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;I hate it that when I read back this post, I myself would not understand the magnitude of these hatings and why all these are coming out. (and no, it's not that time of the month)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;...I wish, I wish, I wish I had my own car so that I could plan my day as it suits me.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4154723295698461872-8221442454735410701?l=dgr8unknown.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dgr8unknown.blogspot.com/feeds/8221442454735410701/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4154723295698461872&amp;postID=8221442454735410701' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4154723295698461872/posts/default/8221442454735410701'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4154723295698461872/posts/default/8221442454735410701'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dgr8unknown.blogspot.com/2008/09/heres-to-hates-and-wish.html' title='Here&apos;s to hates and a wish'/><author><name>TheGr8Unknown</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12308437323440375606</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_2En_7mynQdg/SRsDpV3F2xI/AAAAAAAAAA8/Svt4QFQjnsY/S220/DSCN3997.JPG'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4154723295698461872.post-4698037849122647219</id><published>2008-09-20T11:55:00.006+08:00</published><updated>2008-09-20T12:21:26.948+08:00</updated><title type='text'>would you? would you? wouuuuld you?</title><content type='html'>&lt;strong style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;Would You Ever Pet A Snake?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;God No! the whole family will freak out!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;Would You Stay in An Empty Room For 7 Days?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;and be like the guy from Aviator? No thanks.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;Would You Jump In A Swimming Pool Fully Clothed?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;YES!! haven't done that though..&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;Would You Tell People What You Honestly Think Of Them?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;I usually dilly-dally first. I'm not that direct.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;Would You Swim With Sharks?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;Hell yeah! hmmm..should add that to My List of Crazy Things to do in life.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;Would You Wtach Movies 24 Hours A Day?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;yeah, as long as i have breaks to  eat and pray. 0:)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;Would You Cry In Front Of Others Or On Your Own?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;On my own, in the shower. But can't help it if there's a need to cry there and then in front of everyone!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;Would You Watch A Scary Movie Alone In The Dark?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;Please, no! Horror is not my thing.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;Would You Not Bath Or Shower For A Week?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;I wouldn't! I'd be a walking rubbish bin. I myself don't like being smelly.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;Would You Do Anything For Your Friends?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;yes, of course, especially my BFF.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;Would You Tell Me If You Didn't Like Me?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;no. i'd kept quiet and pretend. Hah!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;Would You Bungee Jump Off A Bridge?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;of course. done bungy before. wanna do it again!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;Would You Ask Someone For A Hug If You Was Upset?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;yeap. ;) ...note to moderator, 'you' is always followed by 'are' or  'were'...Duh..&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;Would You Send This Test Back To Me?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;'Me'? 'Me' who? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;(note to self: find better survey questions next time)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a style="font-family: trebuchet ms;" href="http://www.bzoink.com/S153873/Would_You.html" title="Would You?"&gt;Fill out this survey yourself&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a style="font-family: trebuchet ms;" href="http://www.bzoink.com/surveys" title="Bzoink Surveys"&gt;Find a different survey&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;Brought to you by &lt;/span&gt;&lt;a style="font-family: trebuchet ms;" href="http://www.bzoink.com/" title="Bzoink"&gt;Bzoink&lt;/a&gt;&lt;img style="visibility: hidden; width: 0px; height: 0px; font-family: trebuchet ms;" src="http://counters.gigya.com/wildfire/IMP/CXNID=2000002.9NXC/bT*xJmx*PTEyMjE4ODEwNzYxNDAmcHQ9MTIyMTg4MTEzMTIxOCZwPTg5MjExJmQ9Jm49Jmc9MSZ*PSZvPWFhZjA1Mzc5YWRmNjQ2N2E4Y2U4ZDg*YmJkYWViZDU5.gif" border="0" height="0" width="0" /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4154723295698461872-4698037849122647219?l=dgr8unknown.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dgr8unknown.blogspot.com/feeds/4698037849122647219/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4154723295698461872&amp;postID=4698037849122647219' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4154723295698461872/posts/default/4698037849122647219'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4154723295698461872/posts/default/4698037849122647219'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dgr8unknown.blogspot.com/2008/09/would-you-would-you-wouuuuld-you.html' title='would you? would you? wouuuuld you?'/><author><name>TheGr8Unknown</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12308437323440375606</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_2En_7mynQdg/SRsDpV3F2xI/AAAAAAAAAA8/Svt4QFQjnsY/S220/DSCN3997.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4154723295698461872.post-3918503933801987768</id><published>2008-09-16T15:59:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2008-09-16T16:00:49.781+08:00</updated><title type='text'>It's time for an adult talk</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify; font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;What is it with us? We can't seem to be satisfied with what we have. When things are in a tip-top condition (or less so), we seek for more. Greedy is the word. Sometimes I find myself in that position, and more often than not, I felt guilty at the end of the day. Guilt is good, in the sense that it saves us from doing unimaginable things and warns us that we need to take a moment to reflect the damage that would be/was done.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sept 16 has arrived. New government for Malaysia? How prepared are we for that? A change is good. But the effect of change is totally unpredictable. Are we aware that this is not just something that we can try on as if you are buying clothes. This, as a matter of fact, is the future of Malaysia. We are putting Malaysia's life on the line. Remember, prying eyes are always there observing Malaysia. They are waiting for the time when we crumble. Already, issues here and there have made us vulnerable. And they &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;have been&lt;/span&gt; intervening.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To some, I observe that the &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;want&lt;/span&gt; to change the Malaysian Government have become a personal issue, not the 'people of Malaysia' issue. This is what I'm most worried about. Could we let these people take charge? Are they fully committed to rule the country? Or are they in the game just to win it? to prove that the present government is wrong? that they would do anything to bring the present government down?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The way I reflect is to always think of what our ancestors have gone through in the process of achieving independence. Even though I was not there to witness it all, I learnt the history. That it was not easy. That they had to suffer. That lives were lost. All these for the life I'm living now? I'm sure thankful to those who've contributed in every way they could. Whenever I see other under-privilege countries I always think to myself 'thank God that's not Malaysia.' It could have been if not for the government that we have now. It could have been if not for the people who made the Malaysia we have now possible. So please, try to do anything to make it easy. not make it hard for Malaysia. It already is hard with the present world and local issues.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I guess being overseas for quite some time made me appreciate more the land I was born in. Before, I could not feel the worry I'm feeling now. Before, I could not care less the going ons of Malaysia's political scene. I was just a bystander. Now, it matters.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is not a post to say who's side I'm on. Because frankly, both sides are doing dirty, dirty politics. The members of my family have mixed/different reviews. Lucky, we are smart enough to not bring it to the dinner table. And even when it did slip out, there's always someone who backs off. Politics are not meant for the family's dinner table, especially when all have different says.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;From here onwards, could it be any worse or any better ?? I guess I'll be finding that answer in a few years time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4154723295698461872-3918503933801987768?l=dgr8unknown.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dgr8unknown.blogspot.com/feeds/3918503933801987768/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4154723295698461872&amp;postID=3918503933801987768' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4154723295698461872/posts/default/3918503933801987768'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4154723295698461872/posts/default/3918503933801987768'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dgr8unknown.blogspot.com/2008/09/its-time-for-adult-talk.html' title='It&apos;s time for an adult talk'/><author><name>TheGr8Unknown</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12308437323440375606</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_2En_7mynQdg/SRsDpV3F2xI/AAAAAAAAAA8/Svt4QFQjnsY/S220/DSCN3997.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4154723295698461872.post-9014675500024384167</id><published>2008-09-13T09:34:00.011+08:00</published><updated>2008-09-13T13:08:22.173+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Let's get things going Lina!</title><content type='html'>&lt;div  style="text-align: justify;font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;My my my....okay, let's not get into the subject which I've not blogged for more than a month. I have reasons okay!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;One of them : I've been abducted by aliens.   ~~~Tooo-do-doo-do~~~~&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Hehehehe...Don't believe me? Hah! Well, I'm not asking you to. ;) Talking about abduction and aliens, that reminds me I should download X-Files The Movie this weekend. Back in the old days, I thought the drama is genius! 10 or so years up, and I'm a grown woman (I wish), now I'd like to watch what Mulder and Scully have been up to. Cue X-Files music....te-ne-ne-ne-ne-ne-ne (hmmm, maybe I should stop trying to put sounds into words)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Now, back to business..I'll start by making a list of juicy(or non-juicy) things that happened to me in the past month...in non-chronological order. Here goes...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;1. I started out Ramadhan with my family. which is what I've been waiting for, for the past 4 years! Thank you God! Sahor together, buka puasa together...aaaahh..SUPERB. plus, the food here - Bazaar Ramadhan, kuih best-best ~~salivating~~okay stop, you are fasting, for God's sake Lina!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;2. I went to Medan for a weekend. Finally! Took a Friday off and jetted to my bro's pad in Medan with the whole family. we brought along Umar too. a whole story of laughter from that soon to be 2-year-old boy, just in that trip alone! Umar, Umar...Anyway, I shopped till I dropped too many thousands (cheh, like I'm rich je..it's Rupiah people) and had to change more RMs. Oh, the clothes there were just too hard to resist. Bought 2 trousers, 2 blouses, 1 work shirt, 7 DVDs(i wished I had more $$ to buy more!), and 2 kain for baju raya(hehe. thank you Mummy and Baba). Oh, I'm all crazed-out for Ayam Penyet...oh no, salivating again..sheeeshhh..&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;3. I drove alone to SG Besi TOC for a 12 am work. Wahey! My first mid-night work. And, I gotta say, I like driving on the wee hours of the morning. Shhh..don't tell my parents I sped (I didn't notice I was actually speeding till I looked at the meter. Ooops..heheh..) Reason being there? Had to assist security team for Vulnerability Assessment(VA) of a GPRS probe.  Done on those hours that traffic is low. So that if &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;font-family:courier new;" &gt;things&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt; do happen, revenue won't be much affected. Back at 3 am. Cayalah Lina...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;4. The family yearly trip is confirmed! The destination? Drum roll please...US West Coast baybeh! I'm so pumped for this! We'll be going to LA, Las Vegas, San Francisco and Grand Canyon! Those who know me should know that I'm most excited about going to the Grand Canyon. Talk about going to one of the 7 wonders of the world! Now, now, now..the hard thing is the part where I have to tell my boss I'll be taking an 8 day leave! How that's gonna end up I seriously don't wanna give a shite rite now...Oh ya, Umar will be seeing his abg idol Iki Mouse in Disneyland too! hahahaha..Quoting Mickey "hot dog, hot dog, hot diggety dawg!"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;5. I'm in love with the JMs. JMs as in John Mayer and James Morrison. No, not Jason Mraz though (He's good, but that I'm Yours song dh jadi mcm meluat nak dgr..sorry). Have downloaded their newest albums last year, but only now I noticed how good they are! Of course, this results in me going into that phase again..wishing for a husband like John Mayer. Aiiishhh..&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;6. I had a serious vomiting fair a few days ago. ergh..worst I had. It was more than 10 times for a period of 6 hours! No diarrheoa though. hhmm..weird. It sucked to the core(literally and non-literally) because I was to deliver something the next day. Luckily, my bosses and colleague were all concerned. They were like, it's ok! u just rest and don't think about work. Thank them, coz i was just too flat, from my stomach's and throat's activeness till 3.30 am the day before. I slept almost all day and had to suffer on/off fever and headache. Luckily it's that time of the month. so, i don't have to fast. The recovery process required my body to munch on food every 3 hours and drink lots of Rehydration Salt. And Oh, I'm appreciating more the existence of the small room with lock near the pantry at the office!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;7. My end of month RMS report for the month of August got noticed by a few people. :) They congratulated me on the job well done, and CC the mail to Head of Department (HOD). I was like What The Fish! Malu la pulak if HOD really look at my report...as in reallly really look..scrutinize kang satu hal pulak..aiyo...still, I'm thankful and it's a boost for me to be better next time. hehehehe..I should giv myself a pat on the back. hehehe...Oh, thanks to my supervisor aka little boss who guided me to do the report. The big boss is the head of International Roaming. The HOD is for Network Engineering &amp;amp; Operations. haiiish..so many bosses..it's time i really name them. So, in the ascent of most power...little boss, big boss, HOD. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;That's about it. Other things are good not to mention..like the time I had a minor surgery on a certain part of the body. oh, i just mentioned it. well, let's not get deeper into it. ;)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;I keep telling myself that if this 'infrequent blogging' continues for a couple of months, I'm gonna kill my passion to write straight at the head, close-range. That's brutal, and I'm not gonna let that happen! Maybe it's time to sneak-in a few moments to blog at the office. Hehehe..i hope little boss who sits beside me doesn't see it. hehe. a friend said I'm committing kamikaze---willingly sitting beside little boss. I've already experienced 1 month of sitting beside &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;font-family:trebuchet ms;" &gt;big boss&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;ohkay! I wanna comment on that, but it's best i don't..hehehe&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;ISD is gonna find my blog address hits 'jump' unusually. oh well, you gotta do what you gotta do...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4154723295698461872-9014675500024384167?l=dgr8unknown.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dgr8unknown.blogspot.com/feeds/9014675500024384167/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4154723295698461872&amp;postID=9014675500024384167' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4154723295698461872/posts/default/9014675500024384167'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4154723295698461872/posts/default/9014675500024384167'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dgr8unknown.blogspot.com/2008/09/lets-get-things-going-lina.html' title='Let&apos;s get things going Lina!'/><author><name>TheGr8Unknown</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12308437323440375606</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_2En_7mynQdg/SRsDpV3F2xI/AAAAAAAAAA8/Svt4QFQjnsY/S220/DSCN3997.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4154723295698461872.post-4701274163026323954</id><published>2008-08-07T15:58:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2008-08-07T16:04:24.940+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Penat lah!</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;It's been a while..I know! And I feel guilty for not typing down my thoughts. I came into the working world fully prepared of its demands, but never did it cross my mind that sitting in the office makes me tired as hell! I barely can make it past 10:30 pm. but those who knew me in the uni days, might feel that Lina sleeping at 10:30 pm is nothing unusual. true, but I've been 'unusual' since I got back from Australia. sleeping at 12 is nothing! man, you'll be surprised to find me awake at 2 am or 3 am or even 4 am!(erm..let's not get to 5 am) It's either tennis, or watching online movies till the wee hours in the morning. Yes, I've been staying up late for the past what, 4 months? It was just because there's nothing else to do. sleep late, wake up late...u know the drill! Boy, am I glad I made the most of my leisure time! hehehe..now, I could only DREAM of my tennis matches and online movies. ;) Weekends on the other hand, are packed with family activities..I did mention that my nephew Umar takes up most of our attention during weekends right? haiyo..if only this period of tiredness ends soon, then I could blog more frequently.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have been assigned to do various stuff. One of them is to read a text about International Roaming. Okay, it's not actually categorised as work. maybe it's just so that I get the whole picture of International Roaming. The view-from-the-plane kind of knowledge. Luckily, I have learnt some of the technical stuff during my degree (thank God!! and thank you Matthew Sorrell too!). So when the Maxis people talk about SCP or CAMEL or SS7 or VLR or even GGSN, I was not nodding the 'Joey way' (you know, the nod when you nod, but don't have a clue what the other person is saying? &lt;em&gt;Friends&lt;/em&gt; lover should know the 'Joey nod'. Oh, you don't know? have you been on Earth for the past 10 years??? Kesian you...) Aaaanyway, I'm the new administrator of the Roaming Monitoring System(RMS). The name explains itself. I could trace calls if you are a Maxis customer roaming overseas. I could know who you are calling and from where you are calling from. i could know VIPs calls too..hihihi..well, the main purpose of the system is to analyse Maxis' roaming system and from then on, troubleshoot any problem that arises. and since I started during the middle of the month, I have to pull data from the system to analyse the monthly going-ons of international roamers in order to produce a monthly report. gee..do i make sense? I hope I did...oh and one more thing, as an administrator, I have to manage the database of the RMS. All in all, I like what I've been assigned to. Just one worry though, I hope I don't get tired of this monthly reports at the end of every month. For now, i still find it okay. but will i get bored of it? time will tell...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have to say that I'm glad that I was interested by the whole telecomms technology. It IS interesting! Almost everyone on earth cannot live without a phone kan kan kan? and when you make a call, do you know what exactly happens? how the signalling is done? how a call is established? why you suddenly get cut off in the middle of a call?(besides the fact that you haven't top up your credit or haven't paid your phone bills lah!) well, all of these and a few other complicated stuff you don't wanna hear, i know! I find it exciting to be able to know what goes on with the connectivity of a phone. So, despite all, I'm happy with the industry i'm in now. I hope this happiness continues on and on..InsyaAllah..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The atmosphere at Maxis is very...how should i say it...vely the open waaan. here at Maxis Technology Centre Plaza Sentral, only 2 ppl have their own office room; the CTO and C-something-something. Every floor have open cubicles. you could see and hear what the others are doing at the other end. that's what i meant by 'open'. the people are friendly (so far lah..you never know...), especially my department RISS. my boss pun ok lah..:). My colleagues who came in the exact time as I did (there are 5 of us), are great too. I could not ask for a more better pack. we stick together. lunch together..gossip together..yes, we've gone to the gossiping part..hahaha! Although, the Matchlink topic is more of an attack!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;oohh..oohh..this is the first time I blog as an Engineer :) Looks like my writing lives on...i just have to do it more often kan?&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/4154723295698461872-4701274163026323954?l=dgr8unknown.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dgr8unknown.blogspot.com/feeds/4701274163026323954/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4154723295698461872&amp;postID=4701274163026323954' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4154723295698461872/posts/default/4701274163026323954'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4154723295698461872/posts/default/4701274163026323954'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dgr8unknown.blogspot.com/2008/08/penat-lah.html' title='Penat lah!'/><author><name>TheGr8Unknown</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12308437323440375606</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_2En_7mynQdg/SRsDpV3F2xI/AAAAAAAAAA8/Svt4QFQjnsY/S220/DSCN3997.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4154723295698461872.post-4403069091696229232</id><published>2008-07-10T19:08:00.009+08:00</published><updated>2008-07-13T03:45:26.473+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Oh yeah, Oh yeah!</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;This is the moment when you find me cheerfully hum Celine Dion's &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;font-family:trebuchet ms;" &gt;I'm Alive&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;. This is the defining moment I've been waiting for, for the past few months. This is one of those moments I will remember the rest of my life. And more importantly, this is the moment when I close my eyes, and thank Allah once again for His blessings..His never-ending blessings. The moment I'm talking about is when I got a call from a certain Mr Lee saying "Maxis wants to hire you."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;I wouldn't say that the road to my first job was all along bumpy. I wouldn't say that I complained all the time about not getting anything much earlier. It's simply what I chose to do.  I chose to take time off from any commitments. I needed the brake. I've never stopped since God knows when, not since SPM and not since I've been accepted to MRSM Jasin. 3 months off in Australia, and 2 months off in Malaysia. The other 3 months at Select Consulting was still a leisure because it was part-time. I only started job hunting seriously in April 2008. I have never regretted taking my own sweet time in getting my first job. If others straight away jumped into the working world after uni, I didn't. Time after time I've been 'warned' of the working world and how once started, you will be trapped in it for the rest of your life. Despite the warnings, I know I still want to get involve in it. To have a taste of it. And despite all, I don't want to waste this engineering degree, for sure! It's just that I want to be 100% ready. And no, I haven't forgotten about my 'other' dream...;)...There are still other means of achieving my other dream of being a great writer. One thing at a time...one thing at a time...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;It's a great feeling to have made it on my own. Sometimes people ask me why I wasn't using Baba's channels. And I gave them the same answer...I want  to try on my own! I really respect Baba and his achievements, but that doesn't mean I can 'use' him to get jobs. He does have contacts. That's the irony of things in life...I could go the easy way, but it's not always the proper way. At the end of the day, it's the decision that reflects your level of dignity.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;So here I am..as ready as ever! The long holidays prepared me for this...to be ready and determined. That's the beauty of taking my time...my own sweet 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/4154723295698461872-4403069091696229232?l=dgr8unknown.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dgr8unknown.blogspot.com/feeds/4403069091696229232/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4154723295698461872&amp;postID=4403069091696229232' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4154723295698461872/posts/default/4403069091696229232'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4154723295698461872/posts/default/4403069091696229232'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dgr8unknown.blogspot.com/2008/07/oh-yeah-oh-yeah.html' title='Oh yeah, Oh yeah!'/><author><name>TheGr8Unknown</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12308437323440375606</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_2En_7mynQdg/SRsDpV3F2xI/AAAAAAAAAA8/Svt4QFQjnsY/S220/DSCN3997.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4154723295698461872.post-6825383077953482217</id><published>2008-07-04T16:37:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2008-07-04T16:37:35.806+08:00</updated><title type='text'>On Missy Higgins</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify; font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;I am a huge fan of Missy Higgins. I have listened to her a kazillion times, and she never fail to bore me. Warm Whispers is blaring on my laptop speaker, so to speak. My taste of music goes 360 degrees, but the likes of Sarah McLachlan, Missy Higgins and Norah Jones gets the most play in my Windows Media Player.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I had the chance to go to Missy's concert in Nov 2007. Her 'One Night Only ' tour. Sitting 5 rows away from the stage, it was one of the best seats of the string of concerts I've been to in Adelaide. Avril Lavigne's concert was the other concert that I had the chance to be close to the stage. But Avril's concert was free standing, and because of that, I was pushed and being forced to stand beside a sweaty, tall, stuck-up guy. Luckily, we were a few feet away from the stage, which made it all-worthy as Avril made me forget that guy beside me. Otherwise, the scene of a short me beside a tall and sweaty-armpitt-person would be much worse than you can imagine! Seriously!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So Missy Higgins was belting out her true-to-the-core songs and I could not help but admire her live performance. It's true that her voice could not be compared to Celine Dion's or anyone else who has that range of high vocals. However, Missy's voice is rich and pure and soothing and goes well with the kind of song she sings. I used to have this perception that Missy's live performance would not be as good as the CD version. Daymn I was wrong. She hopped from the Piano to the Guitar to the Keyboards and sang away her trademark vocals without jitters. Once in a while, she would reveal the history behind the song she was going to sing. And this could go on for 5-10 minutes with her joking around and making the audience laugh. The 'Sound of White' relates to the death of her cousin. 'Angela' is about Scarlett O'Harra from Gone With The Wind. 'Peachy' is her way of ranting..musically. A few songs are about her relationships, be it good or bad. Many records were made while she was traveling around. With Missy, inspirations come easily. She could be sitting on the sands with the sound of waves at the background, and katink! she decided to write a song there and then. And Missy tells her story whole-heartedly. It just shows what a genuine musician she really is. It was just a beautiful concert.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I even influenced my family to like Missy Higgins...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It has always been me who prepared CDs for our family roadtrips. The DJ of the family...ME! Of course, it's not all about me and my selections. My rule of DJ-ing...Always consider what the others like too! So in one CD, I managed to squeeze in The Scorpions, Jamiroquai, The Beatles, Michael Buble, Radiohead, Sarah McLachlan, Missy Higgins, and Hannah Montana. For the last road trip at Great Ocean Road, Australia, I even tried to download Nursery Rhymes, but failed to do so. It's hard to get Nursery Rhymes, okay! Kesian Umar....hahhaaha..but don't worry, Umar loves Radiohead's Let Down. That nephew of mine!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So back to the point where I got my family to love Missy Higgins during that Great Ocean Road trip (excluding Hafeez and Kak Niza, since they left early) . I made this CD entitled All Things Missy. It was an Australian road trip. So I thought, why not put an Aussie flavour, right? So I put on the CD with songs from Missy's 1st few albums.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;1st round of play: everyone kept quiet&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;2nd round of play: hmmm...still no signs, but they didn't seem to reject the CD straight away&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;3rd round of play: I could here tappings to the beat once in a while&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;4th, 5th, 6th round of play: Ira and kakak starts singing the lyrics&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Umpteenth round of play: Quoting Baba, "Lina, can you make a copy of this CD for me?" &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify; font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;Strike!!! wahahaha..Of course, it was hours and hours of drive, which made it possible for the replays.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now, Kakak (who also holds the copy of 'All Things Missy' in her car), said that when she puts on Missy Higgins in the CD player, it brings her back to the memories of our road trip in Australia, in late 2007. That's another thing Missy does, bringing out the Australian-ness in her songs. And that, to me, is why I'll never be bored listening to her. It just reminds me of my 4 years there, and how that 4 years stamped a huge footprint in my life. Enough said...&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/4154723295698461872-6825383077953482217?l=dgr8unknown.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dgr8unknown.blogspot.com/feeds/6825383077953482217/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4154723295698461872&amp;postID=6825383077953482217' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4154723295698461872/posts/default/6825383077953482217'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4154723295698461872/posts/default/6825383077953482217'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dgr8unknown.blogspot.com/2008/07/on-missy-higgins.html' title='On Missy Higgins'/><author><name>TheGr8Unknown</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12308437323440375606</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_2En_7mynQdg/SRsDpV3F2xI/AAAAAAAAAA8/Svt4QFQjnsY/S220/DSCN3997.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4154723295698461872.post-8228181226567765415</id><published>2008-07-03T16:47:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2008-07-03T17:13:29.742+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Al-Fatihah</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;Innalillah..I just heard a devastating news from my good friend Norly. Her dad just passed away. Having knowing Norly for quite some time now, and how she is a wonderful, reliable and great friend you could possibly ask for, I feel her pain and loss. I hope she will survive through this trying times.  May Allah guide you and your family to heal this pain.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;Love and prayers be with you and your family, Norly. May your dad rest in peace. Al-fatihah.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4154723295698461872-8228181226567765415?l=dgr8unknown.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dgr8unknown.blogspot.com/feeds/8228181226567765415/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4154723295698461872&amp;postID=8228181226567765415' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4154723295698461872/posts/default/8228181226567765415'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4154723295698461872/posts/default/8228181226567765415'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dgr8unknown.blogspot.com/2008/07/al-fatihah.html' title='Al-Fatihah'/><author><name>TheGr8Unknown</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12308437323440375606</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_2En_7mynQdg/SRsDpV3F2xI/AAAAAAAAAA8/Svt4QFQjnsY/S220/DSCN3997.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4154723295698461872.post-5146716442635246997</id><published>2008-06-24T12:56:00.007+08:00</published><updated>2008-06-24T16:57:01.114+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Whites hit Yellows on Greens</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;I don't know how I got sooo involved in tennis. It's certainly an addiction and this addiction goes all year round! Tennis Grand Slams and tournaments go on and on, one after another. I've always followed the tennis schedule. Try asking me what goes on this week. I'll most definitely answer it correctly, especially now...it's Wimbledon time, people!! ahhh...Wimbledon...the Third Grand Slam of the year. The only time where all players wear white, in contrast with the green grass surface. The only tournament where players have the middle Sunday off. hmmm, what else about Wimbledon, emmm...the fact that players enter and exit the court together regardless of who wins or loses.  That's what I know about Wimbledon (and no, I did not plagiarise these infos from Wikipedia. All these came straight from the top of my head, ohkay!). &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;This time, I'm gonna go all out for Roger Federer in the Men's Singles (Surprise! Surprise!). Good old Rog hasn't won any Grand Slams this year. There was a time when there was no one else in Great Tennis Wonderland, except for Mr FedEx himself. That time, much to your surprise, I was always supporting his opponents. He's a real good player, no doubt. Some said, he is the best player of all time, beating the likes of Pete Sampras, Andre Agassi, and Bjorn Borg. But in that period (around 1 to 2 years ago), I got so sick of him winning every majors and minors, that I would purposely support Roger's opponent, no matter who. Even the commentaries have gone cuckoo and biased to the Great Roger Federer.  No offense to dear Mr Federer, but I'm a tennis fan and in my opinion, there's nothing better than a long, hard-fought match between two players. Roger, in his land of 'you-can't-beat-me', have always managed to minimize the duration of matches - "Look, I have to go somewhere, let's finish this match in 2 sets (3 sets if it was a Slam). Capish?" Unfortunately, I don't like it. I want them to stretch the match into 4 or 5 sets.  That would bring out some quality tennis by both sides.  Oh well, that was then...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Now, I want Roger Federer to win Wimbledon 2008, and I don't mind if he thrashes his opponent in only 3 sets! Did you watch his loss to Nadal at the recent French Open 2008 Final?? Oh man, he managed to win ONLY 4 games for the entire finals match! and 0-6 in the last set? I mean, how saaad is that? Deemed to be the worst loss in a finals of a Grand Slam since God knows when,  Mr Fed bowed out to let Nadal, the King of Clay, bite his 4th Roland Garros Trophy in 4 consecutive years.  Poor Roger. That moment, the World No. 1 Roger Federer was not so Great anymore. I wonder what curse has fall upon Federer by the Frenchies. The French Open is the only Slam he hasn't won. Rumour has it that the unstoppable Nadal machine is getting in Roger's way. Next year maybe, Roger? ;) I'll back you. I promise.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Wait, I haven't revealed the reason I'm backing Roger this time. Want to know why? It is sorely out of pity-ness. Come on! He's getting old (yes, 27 is old for a tennis pro). And he hasn't won any titles this year (that small title doesn't count).  I wanna see him back in his mode. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Oh crap..right at this moment, my little sister, Ira is right by my side, and has yelled out something to Mummy. I quote her, "Mummy! Kak Lina ni keje die tennis je!" Never mind. I vow to finish this post, no matter what..&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Continuing on the subject of Roger Federer, yep, I wanna see him back in his thrashing-mode. Now that he's been down too long, I seriously hope he can make a comeback and win something this year. Currently, he's still ranked No. 1, but a victory is sweet when you  are up against good contenders like Nadal and Djokovic. Plus, he has the game. We only have to wait for the time for him to execute it. I just watched his 1st Round match last night. With a form like that, he'll win his 6th Wimbledon title in a row. Unless....the unstoppable Nadal machine is switched on, or The Djoker strikes again. We'll wait and see...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Oh boy, I've written a long one. I was intending to write about my favourite player, Miss Smiley Ana Ivanovic in this post as well. Maybe I'll just whack up things about her next time... &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;P/S: My interview with Dell today went ok. I don't wanna say anything better. Just wait for the result, then only, I'm in the position to say "Oh, I went well!!". Also, Maxis's subsidiary company just called to offer me a Telecomm Engineer post. Of course, have to go for an interview first. I really wonder what happened to my other Maxis interview.  Hmmm..one thing is for sure, things are coming my way. I must be doing something right!&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/4154723295698461872-5146716442635246997?l=dgr8unknown.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dgr8unknown.blogspot.com/feeds/5146716442635246997/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4154723295698461872&amp;postID=5146716442635246997' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4154723295698461872/posts/default/5146716442635246997'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4154723295698461872/posts/default/5146716442635246997'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dgr8unknown.blogspot.com/2008/06/whites-hit-yellows-on-greens.html' title='Whites hit Yellows on Greens'/><author><name>TheGr8Unknown</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12308437323440375606</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_2En_7mynQdg/SRsDpV3F2xI/AAAAAAAAAA8/Svt4QFQjnsY/S220/DSCN3997.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4154723295698461872.post-6658969891217568321</id><published>2008-06-23T09:53:00.013+08:00</published><updated>2008-07-03T14:09:50.110+08:00</updated><title type='text'>A Slow, but Steady Weekend</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;The weekend started slow. The family's point of attraction on weekends - &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Umar&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Faruq&lt;/span&gt; a.k.a my genius nephew - went off to Jakarta with his mama and papa. Because of that, there were no &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;hoo&lt;/span&gt;-&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;haas&lt;/span&gt; in the house. No requests for nursery rhymes. No '&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;nak&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;aizin&lt;/span&gt;' (&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;aizin&lt;/span&gt; = raisin). No attending to his poo-poo business. And there's certainly no request for his favourite character, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;Omesh&lt;/span&gt; the Tank Engine (in case i fail to translate baby words into significant meaning, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;Omesh&lt;/span&gt; = Thomas). I wonder if our bland weekend is due to the fact that &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9"&gt;Umar&lt;/span&gt; was not there...if so, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10"&gt;hahaha&lt;/span&gt;..it just shows how that little &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11"&gt;pakcik&lt;/span&gt; makes huge impact on us!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Of course, it was Mummy's birthday on Saturday. I gave her a huge hug that morning and wished her Happy Birthday. The card came along much later (the day after, actually. It took one day to pass the card between me and my sisters. We shared the card, by the way. And no, we are not stingy! Sharing a card brings more love than 3 individual cards, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12"&gt;amIright&lt;/span&gt;??). Mummy wants Cherie Blair's autobiography, 'Speaking for Myself' for her birthday present. Turns out that book is a sell-out. Last Friday, I went to MPH and Borders. Both gave me the same answer - Sorry, out of stock. Will try to look at &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_13"&gt;Kinokuniya&lt;/span&gt; this week. Unfortunately, Mummy will have to wait before she can get her hands on that book :) It's &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_14"&gt;ok&lt;/span&gt;, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_15"&gt;Kakak&lt;/span&gt; is still on the search for the Electric Oven present for Mummy. So, I'm not the only one &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_16"&gt;lah&lt;/span&gt;. Oh ya, while I'm at it, I'm starting to wonder if giving books as presents on birthdays, Father's Day, and Mother's Day is a lame thing (&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_17"&gt;Baba&lt;/span&gt; also got a book from me for Father's Day - &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_18"&gt;Obama's&lt;/span&gt; 'The Audacity of Hope'. But that doesn't count &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_19"&gt;because&lt;/span&gt; I know he's enjoying it). Come to think of it, my parents enjoy reading. It's the others I'm concern about. One thing for sure, I love it if people showered me with presents of the form of books. However, I'm not sure if others feel the same. I guess it depends on people. But how would I know? Sometimes when I ask what do they want, they say "Ape-ape &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_20"&gt;lah&lt;/span&gt;". Ape-ape from me equals to a book. So if you guys don't want books, better warn me, okay? Be definite!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That shortness of breath came again on Friday night (felt it on Thurs night as well). That's the reason I wasn't able to get a good sleep, and hence a groggy &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_21"&gt;Saturday&lt;/span&gt; morning. All I wanted to do was sleep, sleep, sleep. Came noon, I was still on my bed. I woke up at 2 pm and decided to fight it. A hot shower did the trick. Felt much better after that. I really wonder if the doc's diagnose is true - another 2% and &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_22"&gt;i'm&lt;/span&gt; considered &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_23"&gt;asthmatic&lt;/span&gt;. Back in Adelaide, I did some tests. Something to do with the capacity of my lungs. At the end of it, the Doc said, I'm not in that group. Another 2% less capacity, I would be, though. The thing is, I have Eczema and I sneeze...a lot! which also means I have sinus problem. It was like 2 months ago that I discovered that Eczema, Sinus and Asthma..they work hand-in-hand. If anyone in the family has any of that condition, then most likely you could have it too. I also recently found out that an &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_24"&gt;auntie&lt;/span&gt; and a cousin suffers from asthma. Sometimes, doctors ask me if anyone in the family have asthma, I always went plain "No." You see, I haven't been asking around. Duh to me. However, I'm actually grateful that it's nowhere near the chronic stage. Of all three, I suffer from Eczema most. But it could be dealt with. A wee bit of Steroid on the affected skin will do the job. Gosh, I'm declaring my rather unattractive health state. Err..male population, please don't run away.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am actually looking forward to next weekend already. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_25"&gt;Abg&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_26"&gt;Hafeez&lt;/span&gt; will be home, and we are going to have this huge celebration dinner : the 3 girls' and Mummy's birthday. It used to be a dinner for each birthday. But &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_27"&gt;Baba&lt;/span&gt; has tone it down. I can understand. That hundreds of &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_28"&gt;RMs&lt;/span&gt; spent on each dinner could be channelled to other needs. In these days of increased petrol, staple food, and everything else under the sun, it's best we don't spend on unnecessary stuff. A change of lifestyle - That's the phrase the PM pressed on. Indeed, we should practise it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh, another agenda for next weekend. Continuing Atonement with &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_29"&gt;Kakak&lt;/span&gt;. Last night, we were too uncomfortable to watch it with our parents and 11-year-old Ira. We had to pause it. Never thought that that movie reveals too much! In the end, we were glued to the TV watching Keeping Up With The Kardashians marathon, while eating durians. ;) Baba had Obama's book in hand, but too many times in a while, he watched the craziness of Kim's family. Hahaha..&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/4154723295698461872-6658969891217568321?l=dgr8unknown.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dgr8unknown.blogspot.com/feeds/6658969891217568321/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4154723295698461872&amp;postID=6658969891217568321' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4154723295698461872/posts/default/6658969891217568321'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4154723295698461872/posts/default/6658969891217568321'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dgr8unknown.blogspot.com/2008/06/slow-but-steady-weekend.html' title='A Slow, but Steady Weekend'/><author><name>TheGr8Unknown</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12308437323440375606</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_2En_7mynQdg/SRsDpV3F2xI/AAAAAAAAAA8/Svt4QFQjnsY/S220/DSCN3997.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4154723295698461872.post-6665182194854790895</id><published>2008-06-20T10:33:00.007+08:00</published><updated>2008-07-03T14:14:33.577+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Being Indispensable</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;"Select Consulting, Good Morning, Lina speaking"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;I am currently needed in the office, as in really needed. These few days, I'll be answering calls for the kakaks, consultants, and Aunty Zah. They are all away on a company trip to Chiang Mai. I was invited, but of course, have to pay for my own expenses. I'm not complaining because as a matter of fact, I am new here, and just a temporary staff. who am i to get a fully paid holiday, kan? I was actually going to accept their invitation, knowing that it's not easy to go on a holiday all planned for. You just throw in the money and the next thing you do is be there at the airport! I could fork out that RM 2200 for that 4-day trip. BUT, sensibility got the better of me. To spend that much while I'm still looking for a permanent job is just crazy. Even the pay i received for the past 3 months I'm working here, barely reach that 2.2 k. haha! sad, i know. But at least there's some income. Aunty Zah also said that I can put this job in my CV. Just to show the employers that i'm not idle all these while. there's also another reason. Mummy's birthday is this Saturday, 21 June. Definitely don't want to miss it. 4 years i've been away from her on her birthday. This is one of the reasons i came back (and not look for a job in Australia)...to celebrate their special days by their side. They are getting old, if anybody hasn't noticed. So i just want to make the most of this time i have with them.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;So, bye-bye Chiang Mai. see u sometime soon! anyway, Mummy said we've been there when i was like 9 or 10. but i cant recall a thing! My memories of Thailand are only of that trip to Bangkok when I was 8 years old. Still remember going on my first elephant ride(not to mention how stinky it was!) and also that photo of me on the boat, grinning ecstatically, with one tooth missing. erghh..if u dig into my past, you'll find that i was inhumanely called 'Rongak' by my School bus driver for a period of time during the days of primary school. me being all shy and timid, i kept quiet and let him be...until i was so fed-up of it. i mean, how dare he called me a name of such atrociousness? the fact that the whole bus hears it doesn't make things better. so i decided to tell Mummy all about it. and Mummy was all defensive of her precious darling (Ira wasn't born yet lah at that time) and she told him off the next day! padan muka Abg Rashid! it was the usual 'Lina' (with added pleasant-ness) from that day onwards. hahaha..&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Oh ya, Aunty Zah said that my title for this job in Select Consulting is not just limited to Database Entry Officer. I was officially upgraded by Aunty Zah to Assistant Consultant. i must admit that the title does sound better. it's true what!! i'm not just blindly entering stuff into their 'efficient' database, i'm actually extracting and translating important data into a form that the consultants could deal with. plus, I'm answering calls and doing document walk-throughs of the reports the consultants made. in many ways, i deserve that title! Also, just recently, i decided to come into the office only 3 days per week. the other 2 days are spent at home, aggressively apply for jobs online. This means less pay since my salary is based on attendance, but it's okay. Kakak pointed out that looking for a permanent job is my first priority. of course, i think so too. Let's see if my aggressiveness pays out. i must say that i've been sort of laid-back when it comes to job-hunting. Not that i haven't been looking at all. the truth is, i have! every week i applied for a few jobs. sometimes they call for interviews. it's just that no rezeki or luck have crossed my path. it's now June and i've never felt this desperate to end my leisure holidays ASAP. good thing there is at least an ounce of sanity in me! &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;P/S: This morning, I spent a good RM 15 on Starbucks' Mocha Frapuccino. Although that amounts to 30% of my pay for the day, i don't feel guilty at all. weird... &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&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/4154723295698461872-6665182194854790895?l=dgr8unknown.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dgr8unknown.blogspot.com/feeds/6665182194854790895/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4154723295698461872&amp;postID=6665182194854790895' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4154723295698461872/posts/default/6665182194854790895'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4154723295698461872/posts/default/6665182194854790895'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dgr8unknown.blogspot.com/2008/06/being-indispensable.html' title='Being Indispensable'/><author><name>TheGr8Unknown</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12308437323440375606</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_2En_7mynQdg/SRsDpV3F2xI/AAAAAAAAAA8/Svt4QFQjnsY/S220/DSCN3997.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4154723295698461872.post-71229176131171704</id><published>2008-06-18T23:51:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2008-06-21T10:16:29.522+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Hi world</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="MsoNormal" face="trebuchet ms" align="justify"&gt;If someone asks me, “What would be my ultimate dream?” I would say, “To be a writer and write a best-selling book.” To be precise, “To be a writer and write a best-selling autobiography.” Okay, let’s be honest. I have to say that I would blurt this out not just to anyone. Only to those that I think can take it all in, well… in a positive way. Truth be told, my parents would not find this kind of response from me. Why? This is simply because I was not moulded to be a writer. I was not officially thought to release high level writing skills. And as an undergraduate, I was not enrolled in Journalism nor English Literature. Instead, what was written in front of countless examination booklets that I had gone through was “Bachelor of Telecommunications Engineering.” So I have an Honours degree (a so-so Honours degree, I should add) in Telecommunications Engineering from the University of Adelaide, Australia. But to enjoy what you love most, you got to have passion for it. And my passion is writing. I have always had flair in writing. Not that I am bragging, but this is really true. When I write, I enjoy bringing out the best of my writing skill and hence, a brilliant piece of writing. It’s also the way I feel when I put my thoughts and feelings into words. It’s like the release of a bird from its cage, flying free and high in the sky. No matter how cliché or cheesy that sounds, that is the way I would describe it. And man, I love to make the reader feel that my piece was worth the reading. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" face="trebuchet ms" align="justify"&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: trebuchet ms;" align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: trebuchet ms;" align="justify"&gt;On reviewing an Essay test in Sunway College Australian Matriculation, my English as a Second Language (ESL) lecturer, Jay Menon, once announced to the whole class, “Her work could easily come out as a magazine article.” I took that as a compliment, and somewhere in my thoughts, there was a hinge of intension to make that happen. But where do I start? Where do I find the right exposure? I used to keep asking myself these questions. Well, I finally found the answer. I have to start somewhere. No matter how, I have to start somewhere. Be it free articles by Haslina Kamaruzzaman, I have to start somewhere…&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: trebuchet ms;" align="justify"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: trebuchet ms;" align="justify"&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: trebuchet ms;" align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: trebuchet ms;" align="justify"&gt;And so, this blog is the answer. The irony of it is, hmmm…I was not inured to the idea of exposing myself. What I mean is, blogging will not make my life privy anymore. But to heck with it lah! I realize that, as a writer/blogger, you write what you know, what you feel, what you experience. Somewhere along that, people eventually know who you really are and your every move. Oh well. It’s a risk I’m willing to take (after much thinking!). As long as they don’t touch the $$$ in my bank account, I’m happy enough! Besides, my blog getting rocketing hits?? AS IF! &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: trebuchet ms;" align="justify"&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: trebuchet ms;" align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: trebuchet ms;" align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;With that, I declare that I am finally a blogger. Yay to me. "Yay!" or the Malay way, "Yeyay!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4154723295698461872-71229176131171704?l=dgr8unknown.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dgr8unknown.blogspot.com/feeds/71229176131171704/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4154723295698461872&amp;postID=71229176131171704' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4154723295698461872/posts/default/71229176131171704'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4154723295698461872/posts/default/71229176131171704'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dgr8unknown.blogspot.com/2008/06/hi-world.html' title='Hi world'/><author><name>TheGr8Unknown</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12308437323440375606</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_2En_7mynQdg/SRsDpV3F2xI/AAAAAAAAAA8/Svt4QFQjnsY/S220/DSCN3997.JPG'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry></feed>
