tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-87044382024-03-20T02:32:14.797+08:00..dEaR jEsS sErIeS....jesshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16250573597335345483noreply@blogger.comBlogger651125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8704438.post-41542161571599300852011-09-01T20:38:00.003+08:002011-09-01T20:52:03.367+08:0042<span style="color:#ff6600;">dear jess,</span>
<br /><span style="color:#ff6600;"></span>
<br /><span style="color:#ff6600;">a word of warning. being an adult means having more debt. clearly. :) instead of trapezing the world and having spare change to buy a handbag, it all goes into the house fund. ha. ha. of course this is just the normal definition of an adult.</span>
<br /><span style="color:#ff6600;"></span>
<br /><span style="color:#ff6600;">still, there's much joy in having to put every hour and energy into the "new" house. houses these days are expensive, but the earlier you buy the better. buy a few months, worse still a few years later and the price hikes. </span>
<br /><span style="color:#ff6600;"></span>
<br /><span style="color:#ff6600;">yesterday i painted the first coat of the undercoat of the walls and railings. tired. yeap - beyond tired. i went home and went to bed, and couldn't because my arms were aching. almost as if they were resonating to a tune or something. the last time that happen was when i was in vietnam, after canoing through limestones. </span>
<br /><span style="color:#ff6600;"></span>
<br /><span style="color:#ff6600;">and then, theres the effect of watching a haunted show, and wondering if my house - dare i even say it out loud is "safe". its hilarious, my mind replays the show i watched! still, its mine. and i wish it was better- for instance i wish the grills were different and i had hard wooden floors. but u know, this is not the case.</span>
<br /><span style="color:#ff6600;"></span>
<br /><span style="color:#ff6600;">its tough, i use to go shopping whenever i wanted and had money to "waste" on steaks and beers. :) well, the sacrifices we make right. im there, painting the railings and thinking this could be the house i bring up kids in, and the memory of me painting like a mad person will soon be distant. or this could be the house i shift out of in five years, who knows right.</span>
<br /><span style="color:#ff6600;"></span>
<br /><span style="color:#ff6600;">oh well, my Father's mansion has many rooms, and maybe the one for me has hard wooden floors in it. :)</span>
<br /><span style="color:#ff6600;"></span>
<br /><span style="color:#ff6600;">jess</span>
<br />jesshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16250573597335345483noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8704438.post-41991272088271243202011-06-24T01:12:00.010+08:002011-06-24T01:51:51.682+08:00sometimes it doesn't matter how you StART, but how you end<div style="text-align: justify;">dear jess,</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span"><br /></span></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span">i was looking through my blog. it was interesting. it represented sides to me even i had forgotten existed. like it was meant, a diary that everyone could peek into. much has happened since i've written. clearly, neglected this for a long, long time.</span></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span"><br /></span></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span">2011 has been the year that i came into with similar expectations. that it wouldn't be as good as 2010 because there were so many high points in 2010 for me. nevertheless, there have been good times. it is after all, almost half the year</span></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span"><br /></span></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span">2011 has been challenging. and particularly at one school, which has given me hell since last year. i wont go into details but clearly, they've managed to make me cry on annual basis. in addition, ive made a major purchase on property- or at least am trying to, that too has been super challenging! and all the stresses just dumped on me at the same time, and stretched over. </span></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span"><br /></span></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span">however, there are always glimpses of hope. we had an awesome time with the StART charity run. i got to drive a triton for 10 hours, and my sis got to drive the pajero sport. we were all in the support cars and it was pretty fun and scary at times. </span></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span"><br /></span></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span"><br /></span></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span"><img src="http://profile.ak.fbcdn.net/hprofile-ak-snc4/188156_203559549684466_4364373_n.jpg" alt="XtraMile Day" /></span></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span"><br /></span></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span">but as in all things, there are all sorts of people out there. alex ran 100km and he was always a good example, smiling and acknowledging everyone with eye contact as they cheered him on, even when he was exhausted! and we could tell!! he really is one of a kind :) </span></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span"><br /></span></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span"><img src="http://thestar.com.my/archives/2011/6/18/nation/n_04alex.jpg" /></span></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span"><br /></span></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span">(pic from The Star)</span></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span"><br /></span></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span">the aim was to collect 100 k and alex would rum 100km (thats the same distance from here to melaka!) some people really touched my heart. i asked and fb status it, but there was so little response. i didnt get it. i mean, it was just 10 bucks minimum, and we'd pay more for starbucks!! and then, one of our students, william, himself pledged!! enough said right?! but at the end of the day we collected more than our target. :)</span></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span"><br /></span></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span">on a personal note. i think it is very difficult for people to be kind. especially in word and deed. say something nice, be someone nice. run a 100 km and still smile. and it is in circumstances like these that you see a persons true nature. light a candle, and instead of getting a kind thank you, someone screams at you for making a mistake. walk away and instead someone screams at you for straying away. </span></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span"><br /></span></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span">you can be here, and think you are doing something good, but in reality you were hurting someone around you. life is strange because we see ourselves through this one lens, and blame circumstances for the way we act. </span></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span"><br /></span></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span">its not about how many km's we ran, its about how we ran it. </span></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span"><br /></span></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span">yours,</span></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span">jess</span></span></div>jesshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16250573597335345483noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8704438.post-424344794503649412011-04-07T00:52:00.003+08:002011-04-07T01:12:02.239+08:00<div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" >dear free spirit,</span></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" ><br /></span></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" >seriously? in my so called adulthood, i am still unsure of who i am and what i want. sometimes it makes you wonder if all the other "adults" know what they're doing or they're just winging it. i don't know, you know. i had a dream the other day and i think it scared me into waking up.</span></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" ><br /></span></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" >i was getting married.</span></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" ><br /></span></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" >bam. rude awakening! oh how i am hearing mocking voices already.</span></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" ><br /></span></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" >if i had my wish, what and who would i really be? have i succumbed to circumstances and people around me that i am too afraid of hurting?</span></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" ><br /></span></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" >you know, when you travel, its a weird thing. you'd meet all types of people. the man who's had six kids and looking for a one night- but would tell her upfront, the charming guy who falls head over heels in love with you after meeting you for a night, and you'd wonder, what could've or would've been? everyone, when travelling, takes a risk, they free themselves from who they have to be and just let themselves be. they live a little, risk a little. they take that surfboard into the ocean and think not of the consequences and ride the waves. </span></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" ><br /></span></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" >for a while, they let their spirit run free.</span></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" ><br /></span></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" >sometimes, when you're in your 30s but feel like you're in your 20s, just starting out and wanting to mold and shape your life. finding out if you should commit, but everyone around you seems certain, holding their annoying crying babies and telling you they have a wonderful life. </span></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" ><br /></span></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" >being an adult is so boring. i just wish i had the guts to live my life young. </span></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" ><br /></span></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" >jess</span></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(102, 0, 204); "><br /></span></div>jesshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16250573597335345483noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8704438.post-11653731249422089082010-09-25T00:59:00.004+08:002010-09-25T01:20:46.570+08:00where art thou?<span style="color:#ff6600;">dear jess,<br /><br />gosh, does anyone write anymore? or for that matter read...?? clearly, i haven't been doing much of any lately. its the last few months as the year closes.. i suppose i should tell you one of the few things thats happening in my life.<br /><br />after six years of not being on stage, i'm finally in the midst of preparing for a performance! me- not only acting, but acting, singing and get this- dancing! ive always managed to make a 180 the minute i see an audition post that requires me to sing and dance.<br /><br />i remember as we bumped in on the night of THSE and i stood on the stage alone. the smell- the feeling.. it was as if i was on stage again- i was pushed back into time, and i was on stage- theatres that now no longer even exist! there was a yearning... the one inside me that i thought i had put to rest, but clearly was very much alive.<br /><br />sometimes, when i allow it too- i start to think of people that have "started" their journey in theatre with me. some of them are now directors, professional actors and even scriptwriters. many years back that ate some parts of me.<br /><br />here i was, and i had very little "accomplished" what i would name as my passion.. or at least what i initially came to love- acting, being on stage.. it seemed like parts of me had to go on stage one more time, just to see..<br /><br />no doubt, this is what i enjoy, but, part of me whispers to the other part of me, that i can leave this behind. that i would be happy living in a state that has no theatre. i can be happy not having to put myself out there, auditioning, seeing my peers live out my initial dream. i could. i would not be bitter, in fact i never thought i'd feel this way.<br /><br />but perhaps, every once in the while when the beast awakens in me, i will feel otherwise and i will crave that longing, to be on stage, in character, making the audience laugh, and perhaps one day, cry.<br /><br />in the meantime, see you on stage,<br />jess<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /></span>jesshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16250573597335345483noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8704438.post-79183049573834548752010-06-07T02:15:00.003+08:002010-06-07T02:27:58.658+08:00beauty and the beast<span style="color:#cc66cc;">dear jess,</span><br /><span style="color:#cc66cc;"></span><br /><span style="color:#cc66cc;">i got a glimpse of what its like to be a mother. perhaps thats the funniest part of teaching- it takes years before you get "paid." i sat in the hall and then there he was, my ex theatre student. this class was especially special to me. i know, we're not suppose to pick favourites but seriously who are we kidding right? i had 16 kids and what made me particularly love this class was that they all had a sense of humour, talent, and chemistry. plus it was the only class i thought for 3 years straight.</span><br /><span style="color:#cc66cc;"></span><br /><span style="color:#cc66cc;">there were more than one of my ex kids on stage but i was particularly proud of him. because he use to come in class, crack his jokes and for some reason was always the outcast, despite his talent. in addition, he refused to audition for the previous productions when i asked him too, telling me he didnt want to sing. </span><br /><span style="color:#cc66cc;"></span><br /><span style="color:#cc66cc;">there he was today! singing and dancing, and acting! how does one not feel proud?! sometimes i feel like i did something in their lives, but sometimes i feel that it really is their talent, and i was just fortunate enough to be a part of their talent. </span><br /><span style="color:#cc66cc;"></span><br /><span style="color:#cc66cc;">i had an overwhelming emotion sitting there, between almost tearing to smiling incessantly like an idiot. </span><br /><span style="color:#cc66cc;"></span><br /><span style="color:#cc66cc;">im so proud of my babies..</span><br /><span style="color:#cc66cc;"></span><br /><span style="color:#cc66cc;">your mama,</span><br /><span style="color:#cc66cc;">jess</span><br /><span style="color:#cc66cc;"></span><br /><span style="color:#cc66cc;"></span><br /><span style="color:#cc66cc;"></span><br /><span style="color:#cc66cc;"></span>jesshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16250573597335345483noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8704438.post-91277558836710392010-05-01T00:57:00.002+08:002010-05-01T01:09:30.098+08:00scrooge<span style="color:#6666cc;">dear jess,</span><br /><span style="color:#6666cc;"></span><br /><span style="color:#6666cc;">i realise that i am the scrooge of weddings. and possibly the only one i know who dares say that i am not a fan of weddings. i find it also a tad annoying sometimes.. i know, now my friends must be thinking that if i thought that of their wedding. perhaps not. </span><br /><span style="color:#6666cc;"></span><br /><span style="color:#6666cc;">its quite hard to explain. i don't hate the people getting married, neither do i think that its not something to be celebrated. however, i find myself thinking every now and then- do people REALLY want to see your wedding photos in facebook? do people really want to know how you met? and why you think <em>your guy </em>is the best person to be married to? what makes you think i want to take home a picture of you and your newlywed no matter how nice the picture is?</span><br /><span style="color:#6666cc;"></span><br /><span style="color:#6666cc;">right, maybe thats it. the <em>seemingly</em> full of their selfness that comes across at weddings? or perhaps that i sometimes have to sit down through a speech that gave the bride's full on resume.. or take home a candle that i will never burn? (which i find strangely hard to resist)</span><br /><span style="color:#6666cc;"></span><br /><span style="color:#6666cc;">i wonder what the ghosts of past, present and future will have to say about this. haha.</span><br /><span style="color:#6666cc;"></span><br /><span style="color:#6666cc;">still, i am looking forward to some weddings this year. i am, as always a contradiction on so many levels.</span><br /><span style="color:#6666cc;"></span><br /><span style="color:#6666cc;">jess</span>jesshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16250573597335345483noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8704438.post-24790320527447827222010-02-11T01:59:00.005+08:002010-02-11T02:49:57.328+08:00tong tong chAng<span style="color:#000099;">dear jess.</span><br /><br /><span style="color:#000099;">happy cny in advance- while we're at it, happy "intrudu" and valentines. :) haha. last year i had so much fun at intrudu, the 40days before lent water festival. unfortunately this year i don think i can go for the water throwing festivities although technically i'll be in melaka. i guess i have to be the good daughter and come down with my folks instead of going down the day earlier, play water on the first day of CNY and get my folks to drive themselves down.</span><br /><span style="color:#000099;"></span><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNYTiWpdnS0skQJSjy1nvgbbUoRApDUi8J1aCPMFj7CgmtdboOQvWzCcp-17ejRxD1ocIjG90glI6Nl-kMkJlnoF9zZrZWXVwBH5VKEEybj1mWgN3je62iBp3rJPYnU5xGjFLbkg/s1600-h/0223p01.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5436687092196535090" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 350px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 149px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNYTiWpdnS0skQJSjy1nvgbbUoRApDUi8J1aCPMFj7CgmtdboOQvWzCcp-17ejRxD1ocIjG90glI6Nl-kMkJlnoF9zZrZWXVwBH5VKEEybj1mWgN3je62iBp3rJPYnU5xGjFLbkg/s400/0223p01.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="color:#000099;">thats me in the chinese newspaper :P </span><br /><span style="color:#000099;"></span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"><em>(*side track- the person on d far left, danny, passed away boxing day 09, taking his life tragically due to depression. he was such a fun and cheerful guy and we didnt know he suffered. mental illness is serious and there is no shame in seeking medical attention. malaysians should be encouraged to seek physchiatric treatment and counselling without hesitation.)<br /></em></span><div align="justify"><span style="color:#000099;"></span></div><br /><div align="justify"></div><div align="justify"><span style="color:#000099;">i remember last year, it didnt feel like it was a start to the new year, and cny was our "second chance." saying that you know what - let's do this again and get it right this time :) haha. this year however, its been great. i think it helps that i have a couple of new things. namely my BABY :) i love my new car sooo much :) it feels like in some way this is my first car, because i chose it and im gonna be footing the bills as well. dont get me wrong i loved my old car, in fact as i was driving it one last time i almost cried! haha i flashed back to when i use to drive it around bangi and kajang, times when i sat in it crying and even when i hit into other cars.. that car was so heavy and turning it was awful! but it brought me everywhere, my first teaching jobs... ahhh </span></div><div align="justify"><span style="color:#000099;"><br />so yeah ive been so fixated on my baby, i will park, come out and imagine if anyone might hit into it, so i'd repark. i will clean the carpets and try to get that tiny dirt, i will go crazy when my dad doesnt off the aircond before turning off the engine or start it without waiting for the signal to go off. it actually hurts me physically. its strange for me because ive always been so laid back about everything.<br /><br />:)<br /></div></span><br /><div align="justify"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgj963_00zw9NxsYntBwy7ORLQBhEHEdpxVDAXYuIJMCrGMbGU_JZHsF_0R5twONUMixTk4py5Lg43h0JMWqyb7ZKplhcN2GtiLKcXkNcU5CztNTVlvMzuE-P1s-h8IvGPetsH0Bw/s1600-h/IMG_0178%5B1%5D"><span style="color:#000099;"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5436683378743075394" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgj963_00zw9NxsYntBwy7ORLQBhEHEdpxVDAXYuIJMCrGMbGU_JZHsF_0R5twONUMixTk4py5Lg43h0JMWqyb7ZKplhcN2GtiLKcXkNcU5CztNTVlvMzuE-P1s-h8IvGPetsH0Bw/s400/IMG_0178%5B1%5D" border="0" /></span></a><span style="color:#000099;"><br /></span><span style="color:#000099;">anyways where was i? oh yes, new things. the other thing, that i think has gotten me pretty excited about the year is that artistically i have been doing - or trying to do some new things at school(s) and at church. i have been in the church arts comm for years, and i remember and admit that it has been a chore some times. and especially when it comes to church plays, it feels like you have done the same things over and over again. i suppose partially thanks to my "sidekick" i don't feel like im doing this alone and since this year, having been able to bounce off ideas with someone made it feel soooo fulfilling. my sidekick is leaving this year :(</span><br /><span style="color:#000099;"></span><br /><span style="color:#000099;">anyways, this year we found a piece that remarkably is different from the previous years - in addition we will be performing in PJLA! a "real" theatre! our group! i am so excited and sooo freaked out at the same time. my mind is running with the things we need to do and so on so forth. </span><br /><span style="color:#000099;"></span><br /><span style="color:#000099;">so. its going to be my year this year :) make it yours too!</span><br /><span style="color:#000099;"></span><br /><span style="color:#000099;">have a great CNY!</span><br /><span style="color:#000099;"></span><br /><span style="color:#000099;">xoxo</span><br /><span style="color:#000099;">jess</span><br /><span style="color:#000099;"></span></div>jesshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16250573597335345483noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8704438.post-6831042579010429382010-01-02T01:54:00.006+08:002010-01-02T03:07:32.373+08:00nEw yEaR, oLd bLOg<div align="justify"><span style="color:#336666;"><br /></span></div><div align="justify"><span style="color:#336666;">dear jess,<br /></span></div><div align="justify"><span style="color:#336666;"><br /><br /></span></div><div align="justify"><span style="color:#336666;">im trying to remember the year. clearly i have an awful memory. i cant even remember what i did last week. so reminiscing is kinda hard. so ive looked thru my photos.. let seeeee<br /></span></div><div align="justify"><span style="color:#336666;"></span></div><div align="justify"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-6tCXKmaU5Vn3LlodxjYenwoxq5AstgFKrU9IDgmJjZHm-32886LY982kQ-Kc3clLfVlCCV9Tu9qCAAKLud2fzHen6Y1ksImzZH-eTnnmdx6F4aGK0cjJzRPX3NewuUfbqPmnOQ/s1600-h/P1060488.JPG"><span style="color:#336666;"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5421841278453060882" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 203px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 161px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-6tCXKmaU5Vn3LlodxjYenwoxq5AstgFKrU9IDgmJjZHm-32886LY982kQ-Kc3clLfVlCCV9Tu9qCAAKLud2fzHen6Y1ksImzZH-eTnnmdx6F4aGK0cjJzRPX3NewuUfbqPmnOQ/s400/P1060488.JPG" border="0" /></span></a><span style="color:#336666;"> i went to cambodia with k. it was nice, i remember the being in awe and overwhelming feeling when i first stepped into angkor wat. i wonder if i will get to travel to somewhere new this year..</span></div><div align="justify"><span style="color:#336666;"><br /><br /></span></div><div align="justify"><span style="color:#336666;">skip a few months..<br /></span></div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxhrUfnSYj_q6l3gnjs2UKXAXYEI7cvKNpFtUcZ9Q5i40gTN73YPuDyXT4DuIBS5HKLsqrGdTVJuSl_3uNzobXpacu0G-gJIHRAIe48YayvlLneluGmv2Tm1XlBpUtHp5kLTJ_Wg/s1600-h/P1070599.JPG"><span style="color:#336666;"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5421844280353003986" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 208px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 169px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxhrUfnSYj_q6l3gnjs2UKXAXYEI7cvKNpFtUcZ9Q5i40gTN73YPuDyXT4DuIBS5HKLsqrGdTVJuSl_3uNzobXpacu0G-gJIHRAIe48YayvlLneluGmv2Tm1XlBpUtHp5kLTJ_Wg/s400/P1070599.JPG" border="0" /></span></a><span style="color:#336666;"> my youngest and second youngest cousins get married, leaving mua to be the last girl on my mums side who's not married (woohooo). i reckon tho its just me who realises this :P<br /><br />i discover...<br /></span><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXiDMaWcKyE7eZGjrgluSUyRdgjo6AOuQfEuqRxDEKmJtY5IKZtJjAuT5azsstQHhgvoGI4hlfcspalrqrR5IbxSgY9-Y_NhekdSZA3DdF80zjMddJ5IjT4BUU4s4hwhT1QIwojQ/s1600-h/P1060824.JPG"><span style="color:#336666;"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5421845274448934034" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 142px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 144px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXiDMaWcKyE7eZGjrgluSUyRdgjo6AOuQfEuqRxDEKmJtY5IKZtJjAuT5azsstQHhgvoGI4hlfcspalrqrR5IbxSgY9-Y_NhekdSZA3DdF80zjMddJ5IjT4BUU4s4hwhT1QIwojQ/s400/P1060824.JPG" border="0" /></span></a><span style="color:#336666;"><br />hoegaarden, patron and drinks of all sorts.. its not that i haven't been drinking before this, but ive never been much of a beer drinker till i travelled this year and it was too hot, with beer being the best way to cool down :) </span><p><span style="color:#336666;">leaving me a beer belly..<br /></span></p><br /><span style="color:#336666;">i was gonna put more photos, but of course its just too much work :) im not gonna account my year as what ive done and have not done, accomplished and more likely- not accomplished. maybe these are just snapshots in my life.<br /><br />you know, as it reached the end of the year i was a little bit sad, as always. i guess i wanted what rueben has with his family. every christmas they have the whole family down from all over, and since his mum has 6 siblings (or something) they have a huge family. family dinners, and even family gift exchange, family quiz trivias, AND annual uncle versus nephew football match! i mean who wouldnt enjoy a family like that right?<br /><br />it made me a little sad, i started to remember when my extended family use to do that, see each other over the holidays, travel together, have sunday dinners ..<br /><br />just saying. sometimes it feels that im the only one who wants to achieve a tradition like this. maybe i should just have 6kids and make them come back for christmas next time. maybe i'm being dramatic, but it feels like i have a hole to this window and i know that if some things arent preserved now, we will loose it soon enough.<br /><br />here's to 2010. i have a wonderful list of resolutions i am happy to have penned down, divided into quarterly year to-do's :) gain a new skill, read a whole lot of books and saving are just some of them.<br /><br />i know that the year will disappoint me and i will disappoint me and people around me will disappoint me. i'm sure there will be deaths and celebrations all round. still, we do the best we can and let Him do the rest.<br /><br />yours,<br />jess </span>jesshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16250573597335345483noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8704438.post-72194585924726829132009-12-13T00:08:00.004+08:002009-12-13T00:38:06.245+08:00do my things own me or do i own my things?<div align="justify"><span style="color:#ff6600;">dear jess, <p></p></span></div><div align="justify"><span style="color:#ff6600;"></span></div><div align="justify"><span style="color:#ff6600;">i was asleep on my bed and the phone rang. it was a saturday. usually on a saturday when my phone rings i choose to be selfish and not pick it up. simply because it means that some irresponsible teacher didn't make it to teach her sat class and im being called to see if i "can" go in. i have never gone in. i let the phone ring. then, conscience nudges me. i feel bad for my friend, who owns the business and i tell her i'll teach. <p></p></span></div><div align="justify"><span style="color:#ff6600;"></span></div><div align="justify"><span style="color:#ff6600;">so up i go, and out of the house to which my mums car is parked outside. she lets me use it but asks me to put petrol in it. she tells me to wait whilst she goes to get her <em>diners</em> card. i wait. i see a bike on the road headed towards me. i felt the instict nudge me, i react. my brain says lock the door. i press the window instead- this wasn't my car, and in my immediate reaction, i press where the lock would be on the other car that we own that isn't mine. i look at the rear mirror, i see the second guy on the bike get off and come near me. i see my mum on the side of my eye coming out of the house, unaware. he opens the door. my hand reaches for the bag that is mine, my phone falls out giving me peace that he wont grab that no matter what. i see his hands, inches away from me and i hear my mum shout "BABI, BABI"!! the bag is in my hand and he rushes off, without anything. <p></p></span></div><div align="justify"><span style="color:#ff6600;"></span></div><div align="justify"><span style="color:#ff6600;">here's the thing. this is the second time it has happened to me. in broad day light, outside my house and the last time too i wasnt in my car, but the door was locked and i had noticed them before they had made their "move." that was MORE than a year ago and ever since everytime i hear the sound of a <em>kapchai</em> my legs become soft. so just as i was getting "over" it, now its happening all over again. <p></p></span></div><div align="justify"><span style="color:#ff6600;"></span></div><div align="justify"><span style="color:#ff6600;">do you know what went through my mind when i <em>knew </em>i was about to get robbed? "my iPhone, my iPhone!!!." it was two weeks old. it was a gift. and i have never had a phone as advanced as this and i remember thinking to myself when i got it, dammit, now i have to take care of it really well. i would've been fine with loosing the rest of my phones before this, in fact not till last year did i have a phone that played music! <p></p></span></div><div align="justify"><span style="color:#ff6600;"></span></div><div align="justify"><span style="color:#ff6600;">the other thing that went through my mind was my <em>coach </em>wallet! </span></div><div align="justify"><span style="color:#ff6600;"></span></div><div align="justify"><span style="color:#ff6600;">that's about all the things i own that really costs something, apart from my laptop and my camera.</span></div><div align="justify"><span style="color:#ff6600;"></span></div><div align="justify"><span style="color:#ff6600;"><p></p>i hate it. i mean i really like the things i have, but i liked it when life was simpler. just bring my IC, money and use the public phone. well, no i hated the public phone. <p></p></span></div><div align="justify"><span style="color:#ff6600;"></span></div><div align="justify"><span style="color:#ff6600;">you know, everytime i go in my car i lock the doors immediately, plus it helps that the passenger seat on my left is spoiled. im aware, im paranoid and im always checking the rear when i see the motorbikes. i saw these idiots and i knew what was going to happen next, but none of this would've been what it would've been if God was not with me, watching me, and practically giving me peace. it felt like it was a slow motion, i was so calm, i was clear and i had no fear. i wish that God would punish these <em>type </em>of people, but all i really wanna say is that My God is an AWESOME God, and He is very real. :) <p></p></span></div><div align="justify"><span style="color:#ff6600;"></span></div><div align="justify"><span style="color:#ff6600;">yours uploading this with an iPhone. (haha kidding)</span></div><div align="justify"><span style="color:#ff6600;">jess</span></div><div align="justify"><span style="color:#ff6600;"></span></div><div align="justify"><span style="color:#ff6600;"></span></div>jesshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16250573597335345483noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8704438.post-73665450506679434842009-10-16T20:39:00.003+08:002009-10-16T21:01:08.104+08:00wish list<span style="color:#cc66cc;">i wish right at this moment im away on an island watching the sunset with music playing in the background, and the invention of facebook hasn't touch the island. :)<br /><br />i wish right at this moment i had no list of expectations of other people.<br /><br />i wish right at this moment that all the wrongs in the world had been made right..<br /><br />i wish that people didn't update their facebook status everyday.<br /><br />i wish that men (and women) stop referring to things as "she" and make lame excuses that its because they love the object. bring us back forty years why don't you.<br /><br />i wish my thumb will start functioning again.<br /><br />i wish that my grandmother was alive.<br /><br />maybe all i really wish is for heaven on earth.<br /><br />i wish i cared :)or maybe cared less. i wish i knew.<br /><br />i wish that it didn't have to be me every easter and christmas. isn't that the truth.<br /><br />i wish there was a point to this all.<br /><br />now you wish you hadn't started reading my pointless list. :)<br /></span>jesshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16250573597335345483noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8704438.post-21130198018424898982009-07-26T00:29:00.004+08:002009-07-26T00:52:52.612+08:00taLk is CheAp<div align="justify"><span style="color:#3366ff;">dear diary,</span></div><div align="justify"><span style="color:#3366ff;"></span></div><div align="justify"><span style="color:#3366ff;"></p>how do i write this letter to you? i know i've heard the saying that i shouldn't wash my dirty laundry in public. of course, perhaps this isn't my dirty laundry directly. but this really breaks my heart. </p></span></div><div align="justify"><span style="color:#3366ff;"></span></div><div align="justify"><span style="color:#3366ff;">you know, when i was teaching this drama class, my kids were made to write their own story. this young girl of 12 wrote a story about an old lady that she saw begging one day for money. she asked her mum why the woman had to beg for money at such an old age, and her mum replied, its because her children wouldn't take care of her. that's such a random answer don't you think? one of those that you tell your kids so that you make sure that they take care of you when you're old?</p></span></div><div align="justify"><span style="color:#3366ff;"></span></div><div align="justify"><span style="color:#3366ff;">and you would think that these things just don't happen to your family or friends, people whom you KNOW have "integrity." and then strange things happen, children who argue with their parents, stop supporting them, stop speaking to them..</p></span></div><div align="justify"><span style="color:#3366ff;"></span></div><div align="justify"><span style="color:#3366ff;">i know a man. a man who has had to endure just this. he has lost weight, he looks like he wants to cry when he speaks and he is filled with grieve and sadness that you can see when you look into his eyes. i look away, because if i stare into it, i know i too will cry.</p></span></div><div align="justify"><span style="color:#3366ff;"></span></div><div align="justify"><span style="color:#3366ff;">i know this man, and he is gentle, loving and forgiving. </p></span></div><div align="justify"><span style="color:#3366ff;"></span></div><div align="justify"><span style="color:#3366ff;">i know this man, and he does not deserve to be treated this way. </p></span></div><div align="justify"><span style="color:#3366ff;"></span></div><div align="justify"><span style="color:#3366ff;">at the end of the day, it doesn't matter who the heck is right and who the heck is wrong. and when you are a family the longer you take to forgive, the longer everyone suffers.</p></span></div><div align="justify"><span style="color:#3366ff;"></span></div><div align="justify"><span style="color:#3366ff;">this is why i am sure, that the greatest weapon the devil has is pride. he lets us to believe the lies that we are good and forgiving is a privillege. </p></span></div><div align="justify"><span style="color:#3366ff;"></span></div><div align="justify"><span style="color:#3366ff;">who are we? who have we become? do we give our money to people who deserve it? NGOs? do we make the effort to make sure our parents, relatives, are not in need? who have we become that we can allow our fathers and forefathers to be in a moments need of basic necessities?? </p></span></div><div align="justify"><span style="color:#3366ff;"></span></div><div align="justify"><span style="color:#3366ff;">it makes me so mad and so sad at the same time. with every ounce of energy in me i hope i can make this right.</span></div><div align="justify"><span style="color:#3366ff;"></span></div><div align="justify"><span style="color:#3366ff;"></p>The twelve year old ends hear story by saying to her mum "mummy, don't worry you will never have to beg for money because i will take care of you." </p></span></div><div align="justify"><span style="color:#3366ff;"></span></div><div align="justify"><span style="color:#3366ff;">yours,</span></div><div align="justify"><span style="color:#3366ff;">jess</span></div>jesshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16250573597335345483noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8704438.post-21560499709234027212009-07-15T16:12:00.001+08:002009-07-15T16:15:50.622+08:00lain-lain<span style="color:#990000;">dear me..<br /><br />I was flying back from Cambodia, when this Portuguese man behind me started to chat up a Singaporean. He was telling the lady of the Portuguese in Melaka, what they spoke etc etc. In some aspects he knew more than the Singaporean whose only claim to fame was “yeah, I have a Eurasion classmate.”<br /><br />When I was growing up, people didn’t understand what I was, so they rudely called me in Cantonese “cap chong” or however one would romanize Cantonese. Today, one of my friends have said this to me before – in response to my excitement for what we Eurasions have for Christmas. “oh having your curry debel is it?” You know with sarcasm included. Then, there’s those who insist that I don’t speak “enough” kristang.<br /><br /><br />Being me can be oh so tiring (feign faint)<br /><br />But seriously. I’ve had this “privilege” in the last few years of knowing more Portuguese people outside the realm of my family members. “they” have their own culture and even similar speaking intonations. Its very curios.<br /><br />They on the other hand criticize other Portuguese people who have gone to the city, in a way not speaking the language or knowing their roots.<br /><br />Race can be such a bore in this country. You’re too much this, you’re too little this. My dad’s forefathers came from Thailand. So apparently I might be part Thai.<br /><br />Now. If you’re a mix of everything and anything and don’t look like a supermodel or a hot deejay all you’re gonna get is a bunch of idiots living in a multicultural nation who don’t understand you or even try too. They try to understand what the big deal is but they don’t care.<br /><br />In fact, you don’t realise what any big deal of anything is until someone dissess you, or who you are. Chinese people go back to China, because they insist that’s what they are. If Portuguese, Dutch or British (why are there so few British mixed Malaysians? In fact I don’t know of any) that say they want to go back to their country to see their roots, or semi roots, trust me, Malaysians will just roll their eyes over.<br /><br />Why is it that what I am doesn’t seem real?<br /><br />I love being part Chinese and I love being part Portuguese. Even more, I love being both.<br /><br />We kill our own culture. We mock others because we think that they aren’t “chinese” or “eurasion” enough because they don’t do or know some things. It’s like that myth of the snake eating its own tail.<br /><br />We kill things we don’t understand. At the end of the flight, the man got to talking to me, and said I did look like his kinsmen because of my skin colour. Funny you should say, because most people think that “Portuguese” means white skin, sharp nose.<br /><br />I find myself defending my one side more than the other. My friend wrote a play and we were called “lain-lain.” Remember those crap boxes with only three major races to tick? I was “lucky” cos I got to put Chinese. He felt like he had no identity, he was just “others.”<br /><br />We’ve got such a horribly long way for a country with so many types of people.<br /><br />That is all.<br /><br />Ps.<br />Why do most if not all Chinese girls put peace signs when they take photos? Do they seriously think that is cute? And some Chinese guys too!!!<br /><br />yours,<br />jess</span>jesshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16250573597335345483noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8704438.post-89130956751541743672009-06-12T03:58:00.004+08:002009-06-12T04:12:23.539+08:00maybe i ShouLd reNaME my bLoG to "rAndOmnEsS"..<div align="justify"><span style="color:#ff6600;">dear jess,<br /><br />we all have a mental, emotional, semi concious depiction of how our life would or should be. even if we think that we think that :) we are just "going with the flow." we would like the expression of having a "white picket fence" life. some people imagine even how many kids they should have! some aim to live overseas and some feel destined to certain jobs.some have even NAMED their "kids."<br /><br />of course for some reason, i would love having to be explained to the "fact" that women dream of their wedding day. do they? do they REALLY??? cause i dont, and i dont actually know of anyone who does! what is there to dream of really?<br /><br />now, as skeptical as iam, which clearly i am, there's no harm in dreaming or hoping. but is it not kinda strange when you think about it. how you plan all these things. for example, marriage and naming kids, that kinda involves someone else, who has equal "white picket fence" dreaming..<br /><br />all these imagined dreaming can give false expectations. still, i digress. of course, i dont think i actually have a point. maybe a few then again.<br /><br />its 4am and im hungry.<br /><br />yours,<br />jess<br /></span></div>jesshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16250573597335345483noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8704438.post-76261004337680168762009-05-28T00:34:00.003+08:002009-05-28T00:40:33.318+08:00so wHo ReaLLy did WiN iDoL?<div align="justify"><span style="color:#666600;"><span style="color:#990000;">even on idol, voting sounds so much like politics. if it is true, despite thinking yeah lambert really deserves it, i'd hate to be in kris's shoes. you suck AT&T if this is true. good grief!</p></span> </span></div><div align="justify"><span style="color:#666600;"></span></div><div align="justify"><span style="color:#666600;"><em>Adam Lambert and Kris Allen arrive at the American Idol Season 8 Grand Finale held at Nokia Theatre L.A. Live on May 20, 2009 in Los Angeles, CA. Jason Merritt/Getty ImagesUs Magazine </em></span><a href="http://www.nytimes.com/2009/05/27/business/media/27idol.html" target="_blank"><span style="color:#666600;"><em>The New York Times</em></span></a><span style="color:#666600;"><em> is reporting that American Idol's </em></span><a href="http://omg.yahoo.com/celebs/kris-allen/1767"><span style="color:#666600;"><em>Kris Allen</em></span></a><span style="color:#666600;"><em> may have had a little help from AT&T, one of the Fox show's biggest corporate sponsors, in winning this year.According to the Times, AT&T provided phones for free text-messaging services at two Allen parties in Arkansas on the night of the finals. Citing sources, The Times reports that AT&T reps showed party-goers how to "power text" -- cast 10 votes at the touch of a button -- which violates show rules.Power texts, according to the Times, "have an exponentially greater effect on voting than do single text messages or calls to the shows toll-free phone lines." No similar efforts appear to have been made to provide free texting services to </em></span><a href="http://omg.yahoo.com/celebs/adam-lambert/1726"><span style="color:#666600;"><em>Adam Lambert</em></span></a><span style="color:#666600;"><em> fans.Angry Lambert supporters are now claiming in online chat boards that the competition's voting was rigged.While Fox has yet to comment, AT&T issued the following statement: "In Arkansas, we were invited to attend the local watch parties organized by the community. A few local employees brought a small number of demo phones with them and provided texting tutorials to those who were interested."The Arkansas Democrat-Gazette first reported on the possible skewed voting last week. </p></em></span></div><div align="justify"><em><span style="color:#666600;"></span></em></div><div align="justify"><a href="http://omg.yahoo.com/news/at-t-may-have-swayed-idol-outcome-to-favor-kris-allen/23028?nc">http://omg.yahoo.com/news/at-t-may-have-swayed-idol-outcome-to-favor-kris-allen/23028?nc</a></div>jesshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16250573597335345483noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8704438.post-40317772179129382162009-05-26T01:05:00.001+08:002009-05-26T01:09:30.346+08:00yOu knOW i HAve NO LiFE whEN i BloG aBouT iDOL!<div align="justify"><span style="color:#333333;">dear jess,</span></div><br /><div align="justify"><span style="color:#333333;"></span></div><br /><div align="justify"><span style="color:#333333;">I have to state my case. I know I try to stay out of any idol discussions but I need to have a say. I think idol never picks any of the people that I like. It’s a cosmic conspiracy. But I have to say that I had like adam ever since he did his first audition. To be fair, it was the theatre background he had that I felt inclined too. I remember the next day when I sat down with the performing arts teachers, the music teacher who mind you performs at the local theatre music scene, tells me that he was singing a whole something something hingher. Sorry don’t really get music talk- semitone? Nope must be more than that. Whatever. And that was to bohemian rhapsody I think.<br /><br />Anyways inclined to know that I will be disappointed, convinced that the world picks whatever I didn’t like I tried to keep an open mind. And I did like the “winner” for one thing- the way he rewrote heartless. That was more than amazing.<br /><br />NOW… lets get to my argument, if you listen carefully and this is a singing competition, when you hear adam, “the winner” and what’s his face that guy who got third? U can hear how amazing the voices of these two guys were, “the winner” sometimes even went out of tune.<br /><br />So, why I am least bit not surprised is because all you have to do is not listen- but look. “the winner” is a typical blue-eyed boy that idol will always pick. You may argue and say cook won last year, but seriously, he isn’t really a rocker. And that is idol for you, screaming 13 year olds, who adore typical blue eyed boys on the verge of boyband-ness.<br /><br />Back to the present- Lambert is being considered to be the front man of Queen. QUEEN!! And in past history, winners haven’t always made it big, taylor hicks for example made 300k last yr, only! In comparison to Hudson, who didn’t win- made millions.<br /><br />I think tho, that even Lambert shouldn’t front QUEEN. I even think that wouldn’t give him freedom to do things that he will be more than capable of. I guess, sometimes in my hearts of hearts there is always a glimmer of hope that the norm doesn’t always happen.<br /><br />Oh well, I guess I’m betting that Lambert will no doubt be way bigger and last longer than the “winner.”<br /><br />In conclusion to my “argument” I admit that my reasons for why winners win on idol could be wrong after all Archelleta, however you spell his name’s eyes were blue enough.. Like I said, its always the person I didn’t cheer on.<br /><br />yours coming in second,</span></div><br /><div align="justify"><span style="color:#333333;">jess</span></div>jesshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16250573597335345483noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8704438.post-45162330080271616872009-04-18T19:11:00.003+08:002009-04-18T19:24:45.904+08:00aRe u A fAceBooK whOrE??<span style="color:#ff6600;">dear jess,</span><br /><span style="color:#ff6600;"></span><br /><span style="color:#ff6600;">i have deactivated facebook.</span><br /><span style="color:#ff6600;"></span><br /><span style="color:#ff6600;">*blink*</span><br /><span style="color:#ff6600;"></span><br /><span style="color:#ff6600;">it was a series of events, our split. just like other relationships, its never just that one thing. apart from the fact that i predict something new will soon be taking over fb, twitter perhaps, i must say this relationship i had with fb was really starting to annoy me.</span><br /><span style="color:#ff6600;"></span><br /><span style="color:#ff6600;">i dont know if technology has really made our lives any better, and since the start of our three two(?) year relationship the tension had been building . For example, i have friends that "know" me but have NEVER said a word to me ever! and when i added them, the relationship remained silent. so i deleted them.. they then try adding me again.</span><br /><span style="color:#ff6600;"></span><br /><span style="color:#ff6600;">then there were people i found that, consciously or not, use fb to satisfy their all annoying need to get attention. </span><br /><span style="color:#ff6600;"></span><br /><span style="color:#ff6600;"><span style="color:#660000;"><span style="color:#006600;">ABC is</span> </span>tired and needs a break and blah blah blah blah blah blah blah..</span><br /><span style="color:#ff6600;"></span><br /><span style="color:#ff6600;">2seconds later..</span><br /><span style="color:#ff6600;"></span><br /><span style="color:#ff6600;"><span style="color:#006600;">ABC has</span> made coffee with two packs of sugar and blah blah blah</span><br /><span style="color:#ff6600;"></span><br /><span style="color:#ff6600;">3 seconds later...</span><br /><span style="color:#ff6600;"></span><br /><span style="color:#ff6600;">yeah you get my drift. and some of it is just written with flashing red lights and desperation for someone to comment on their status! my friend calls these guys, <em>facebook whores</em>. how appropriate.</span><br /><span style="color:#ff6600;"></span><br /><span style="color:#ff6600;">then, there was my huge discomfort that my personal life was being invaded thru pictures i post, by people i forgot are in my fb. i know i can only let some people see certain things, but its sometimes more complicated than that.</span><br /><span style="color:#ff6600;"></span><br /><span style="color:#ff6600;">anyways, what might've taken the cake was when someone told me how much they missed me, on my wall. someone who lives minutes away from me, or is a phone call away.</span><br /><span style="color:#ff6600;"></span><br /><span style="color:#ff6600;">i think that fb has given us the perfect excuse for passive friendships, lazy wishes, and an ever absorbing hypnotizing need to "look" at other peoples lives, see who they're dating and what they've been up to. i can understand the attraction as well as its practicality for people who live far apart. </span><br /><span style="color:#ff6600;"></span><br /><span style="color:#ff6600;">still, i dunno why i didnt log off sooner, and at the same time i can't promise that i wont have a relaps and want to go back to it !</span><br /><span style="color:#ff6600;"></span><br /><span style="color:#ff6600;">happy facebooking</span><br /><span style="color:#ff6600;">jess</span>jesshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16250573597335345483noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8704438.post-85932342015872917222009-04-01T00:18:00.006+08:002009-04-01T00:54:51.441+08:00wHEN thErE's A gReat eXcuSe to ShOPhey<br /><br />so, while i was in cambodia, siem reap i came across 'bloom'. the boisterous singaporean explained that the bags are made from this fish paper, err rice paper? anyways they're made into bags and done so simply to give jobs to single mums in the country. the thing is tho, im soooooo impressed with the simple idea and the bags are so unique! i promise you you wont see anyone using it in this country. altho i have a sneaking suspicion we might see it in our country in a year or so, with the proceeds going to no charitable cause.<br /><br />kinda wished i bought more! ..<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4GV989lOvxWKfA1zW4vQTFhiYSS5L8JFm_ILC4JuRUPu8C9kMYlXT_Vclh7fFYYBbhO1eTpeP2KNU34oE1QDog_Zy8qpTreeLiOBsntMyxTiGgtSWS5Nq_4G8ry1kyKRaqUNLMQ/s1600-h/P1060704.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5319394937972240002" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4GV989lOvxWKfA1zW4vQTFhiYSS5L8JFm_ILC4JuRUPu8C9kMYlXT_Vclh7fFYYBbhO1eTpeP2KNU34oE1QDog_Zy8qpTreeLiOBsntMyxTiGgtSWS5Nq_4G8ry1kyKRaqUNLMQ/s400/P1060704.JPG" border="0" /></a> this is an original bloom creation.. ahhh soooo cute :)<br /><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVg9vG6J5vFzuY7mYvS5AWj-I8Wq2hjqkDTHcp5N1-6JdjXWo1L07db_qYEFRwZenoUlet8wNznEiA-w5Sn6CsMDvz-dAA7bZiZchnHQIY5jjB96sOZEcX2mhUxsulfhEHPVClcw/s1600-h/P1060702.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5319393546600565554" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVg9vG6J5vFzuY7mYvS5AWj-I8Wq2hjqkDTHcp5N1-6JdjXWo1L07db_qYEFRwZenoUlet8wNznEiA-w5Sn6CsMDvz-dAA7bZiZchnHQIY5jjB96sOZEcX2mhUxsulfhEHPVClcw/s400/P1060702.JPG" border="0" /></a> my "comic" wallet.makes me feel like a kid. the proceeds for this one goes to "friends" in support of educating street kids.<br /><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2cb5hu4peWr95JoiOIagKqXiRF16NLlCX3H8fuI-PY2_QkS7ZB0YBxpHKEiApFc5Cw3EZTiwHHuuryf0hyphenhyphenCKpJTgCfT4ovCPJ_WbT8IY6Pq1NU-03DC0ftMhoSLcbnNkY-nFYUQ/s1600-h/P1060685.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5319392304995625330" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2cb5hu4peWr95JoiOIagKqXiRF16NLlCX3H8fuI-PY2_QkS7ZB0YBxpHKEiApFc5Cw3EZTiwHHuuryf0hyphenhyphenCKpJTgCfT4ovCPJ_WbT8IY6Pq1NU-03DC0ftMhoSLcbnNkY-nFYUQ/s400/P1060685.JPG" border="0" /></a> this one wasn't from bloom and the little sign did say it was made by handicap people. i'm not sure , cause there's been alot of imitation from the designs at bloom. i got it cos it was nice. sigh sue me :)</div><div> </div><div></div><div>anyways check out the site, it's got a cool range.</div><div><a href="http://www.bloomcambodia.com/">http://www.bloomcambodia.com/</a></div><div></div><div></div><div> </div><div>jess<br /></div></div>jesshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16250573597335345483noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8704438.post-64198213236106190762009-02-22T21:40:00.010+08:002009-02-23T00:18:51.792+08:00festa intrudu 2009<div align="justify"><span style="color:#990000;">festa intrudu or <em>water festival</em> 2009 is a week before lent (the month before easter) and is basically THE day when you can throw water at anyone who dares to walk into portuguese settlement :) of course i was all excited to go and two days before it was the day i get the flu! that didnt stop me :) the water throwing excitement was great. we got ICE and threw it in our stash. it was soooo cold, with the throwing going from 9.30 to 12.00 and random people throwing water at you, some with horrible fierceness! my eye took a beating from some <em>ganas</em> splash. <p></p></span></div><div align="justify"><span style="color:#990000;"></span></div><div align="justify"><span style="color:#990000;">if you throw water at someone older, you offer them a drink of wine, a small cup from your bottle. part of the festivities also includes a fancy dress football :) HAHA imagine guys running around with their dresses. the men were all tooooo please to flash their pink LACEY g-strings at us!!! i think im gonna go blind, and for ur sake ive "watered" down the pics :)</span></div><div align="justify"><span style="color:#990000;"></span></div><div align="justify"><span style="color:#990000;">its fun, its not as "known" as <em>san pedro's festival</em> and much less people come but i think it might be more entertaining and fun. in addition, the significance of the <em>festa </em>is the washing away of our sins. And yes people, only Jesus does that for us, guilt free :) AMEN :)</span></div><div align="justify"><span style="color:#990000;"></span> </div><div align="justify"><span style="color:#990000;">ps. the "romantic" blurry feel to the picture is because the camera was in a clear albeit wet plastic bag :)</span></div><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEicXUsJvausdqmA_UnaJfAW742TOlhVfI_k6RnKbb2b-ShGJluEjcTSs457sBtZyTsa2R-k_7r1yh2EI9kP3s-w5T145XHCrT52ZXPmwOSSPeymr0hf57IsZHkNyIEbnC1tVknDNA/s1600-h/IMG_5386.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5305652745297923250" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEicXUsJvausdqmA_UnaJfAW742TOlhVfI_k6RnKbb2b-ShGJluEjcTSs457sBtZyTsa2R-k_7r1yh2EI9kP3s-w5T145XHCrT52ZXPmwOSSPeymr0hf57IsZHkNyIEbnC1tVknDNA/s400/IMG_5386.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYLoOsEyzi1hlVmauX2nbzyp9qUGcccz8ObIf37VcK6tqfggEIQLNg627c51avp9gcDuxVgVOPt8IGSPDJLR2drOfdIz6Lt42UFg5CINg8CZzDL7kUAT-b4S802RgRdttBdmqL0w/s1600-h/IMG_5426.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5305652518625264770" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYLoOsEyzi1hlVmauX2nbzyp9qUGcccz8ObIf37VcK6tqfggEIQLNg627c51avp9gcDuxVgVOPt8IGSPDJLR2drOfdIz6Lt42UFg5CINg8CZzDL7kUAT-b4S802RgRdttBdmqL0w/s400/IMG_5426.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5305648875011714162" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEheJTAXop9M_sg4XZueZiILphk-sqkE6Ydhltx-wsKZIHQJh0Prv8golv-fvmXJF1Ro5TLpBiay05b95EMkttM56gx0dPg0N7Avtim9Ge-aH7za6A4Oj_EVMbqf6vKM3OLfO5ZfzA/s400/IMG_5415.JPG" border="0" /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUJj6koLpJbaCSbfQ5XDDCTXnWs75xaCVWuTAatMl47QHbZ7C-pO95gVgSEx4wckaZNRTR20ZSvusGJPRol7Gx-DlywcSpm6dlzD59me5r_RdgSKw5jaMJnSq7Q2cOctxYV1aQHg/s1600-h/IMG_5397.JPG"></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKAwfOXABRtA7a5qr-0PQvX25YKz69D7yfJW2pwdzVtwJrOsnyaX9hTcw_TKHpGwjmJ12ZgaGdKFcMXDPMDAeR8A6b6E-QdSNIpjc08umDZ8Cxffg8P7ZzX7Ytkd2He-d_8YNVmw/s1600-h/IMG_5459.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5305617873776829778" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKAwfOXABRtA7a5qr-0PQvX25YKz69D7yfJW2pwdzVtwJrOsnyaX9hTcw_TKHpGwjmJ12ZgaGdKFcMXDPMDAeR8A6b6E-QdSNIpjc08umDZ8Cxffg8P7ZzX7Ytkd2He-d_8YNVmw/s400/IMG_5459.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi00rK33DcbU1FeQsLWMKySNnBMNobH0E_SBitad2xIf94lEjbwfpqpj-F-9d3Xxj9cyPzuQvYvEIk3D4eO9U4W94R6YGqUrRJT0kxnkwNaYNBXaJvGFZI7s4BDVpGZlNxhJ87J9g/s1600-h/IMG_5450.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5305617312822129794" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi00rK33DcbU1FeQsLWMKySNnBMNobH0E_SBitad2xIf94lEjbwfpqpj-F-9d3Xxj9cyPzuQvYvEIk3D4eO9U4W94R6YGqUrRJT0kxnkwNaYNBXaJvGFZI7s4BDVpGZlNxhJ87J9g/s400/IMG_5450.JPG" border="0" /></a> </div></div><br /><br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYVbhQvDb1nAEkEh3od3j40dBwwsyajHQPw0Wen4uLyxLcRGlTzCYA44pzZIEK0HdkCWV4n6k1HqwaZoZ0J7K7FA7SqeOptNMayP3WCOupgfGtnQUwIgAfg1GWFOGyAXuD9YMerQ/s1600-h/IMG_5513.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5305650870550370514" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYVbhQvDb1nAEkEh3od3j40dBwwsyajHQPw0Wen4uLyxLcRGlTzCYA44pzZIEK0HdkCWV4n6k1HqwaZoZ0J7K7FA7SqeOptNMayP3WCOupgfGtnQUwIgAfg1GWFOGyAXuD9YMerQ/s400/IMG_5513.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5EQ0rJErywpSK3Rz4WzgQE3gv3WUu1XhHX01_1X96Davt06TH9k-p86q7oQLftBE_cT8vfkNxHyBgM4deR3K-dBBg67mOkWdPFAeS57Eme6Kj7fYEKJy3sIvdPnFa1w_rqV3anQ/s1600-h/IMG_5513.JPG"></a>jesshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16250573597335345483noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8704438.post-40252606854211153892009-02-14T01:53:00.004+08:002009-02-14T02:12:07.690+08:00honey, honey<div align="justify"><span style="color:#ff9966;">dear jess,</p></span></div><div align="justify"><span style="color:#ff9966;"></span></div><div align="justify"><span style="color:#ff9966;">what shall we talk about today? hmm. should i give you the "low down" on my life? today i realised that my student i've thought for for two years is now taller than me. *blink* should i tell you what ive been up to? i tried to play tennis today but the gates were locked and almost crawled under the tennis court wires. *blink*</p></span></div><div align="justify"><span style="color:#ff9966;"></span></div><div align="justify"><span style="color:#ff9966;">i guess small talk is not really suited to us.</p></span></div><div align="justify"><span style="color:#ff9966;"></span></div><div align="justify"><span style="color:#ff9966;">i did have plenty things i wanted to say though now it seems just unnecesary. i think though, that when i dont write to you its a sign that i'm neither angry nor ambitious, vicous nor depressed. </p></span></div><div align="justify"><span style="color:#ff9966;"></span></div><div align="justify"><span style="color:#ff9966;">i hear that artists especially musicians are emotion junkies and they need the lows to get into the song writing mood.. maybe im a mood junkie too.</p></span></div><div align="justify"><span style="color:#ff9966;"></span></div><div align="justify"><span style="color:#ff9966;">in the meanwhile.</span></div><div align="justify"><span style="color:#ff9966;">XOXO :) </span></div>jesshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16250573597335345483noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8704438.post-80510703499776289652009-01-07T20:50:00.003+08:002009-01-07T21:21:59.144+08:00happy new year then.<span style="color:#009900;">dear jess,<br /><br />some people live too much in the past. (tired of reading post from ur uni days in london..)<br /><br />some people live too much in the future. (tired of hearing you ask me when im getting married like thats the ultimate goal in life)<br /><br />few live in the present.<br /><br />and more people don't really live at all<br /><br />yours,<br />jess</span>jesshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16250573597335345483noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8704438.post-87045382759598578272009-01-02T01:42:00.004+08:002009-01-02T01:54:13.065+08:00don't rock the boat<div align="justify"><span style="color:#ff6600;">happy new year jess.</p></span></div><div align="justify"><span style="color:#ff6600;"></span></div><div align="justify"><span style="color:#ff6600;">i guess if you are as uninspired as me you'll know that im not all jumping with joy into the new year. in fact im not jumping anywhere. my friend just informed me that she wont be working at our preppy school anymore cos she's going to do the working visa thing in NZ. *wooopee*</p></span></div><div align="justify"><span style="color:#ff6600;"></span></div><div align="justify"><span style="color:#ff6600;">i remember now that as she tells me this about the times where i dont go to the theatre to watch a friends play, i dont want to know where you've been or wat you've seen or your great and wondrous adventures for a year that you deem will be "scary" because you had to leave it all behind. </p></span></div><div align="justify"><span style="color:#ff6600;"></span></div><div align="justify"><span style="color:#ff6600;">yes people.. that is what we call bitterness and jealousy. had i not taken so long to study or had i not been attached who knows what i'd be doing now. sure, the prospect is always possible and you say that those are just excuses. perhaps and most likely so.</p></span></div><div align="justify"><span style="color:#ff6600;"></span></div><div align="justify"><span style="color:#ff6600;">however, if no one told me that my friend who knows nothing about the eurasion language or culture had staged the play on what my little knowledge is far more than his, or that instead of studying the last five years i could be her saving up to go somewhere else, i would probably be happy sitting on my ass watching series after series on my laptop.</p></span></div><div align="justify"><span style="color:#ff6600;"></span></div><div align="justify"><span style="color:#ff6600;">competition hugely inspires me. being the one doing these things inspires me.. but then again, these are my dreams too. or at least they once were and seeing other people have them angers me. so, sometimes i'd rather not know and i dont really want to care, because im not horribly unhappy but when they rock the boat, it makes me think that something in my life is amiss..</p></span></div><div align="justify"><span style="color:#ff6600;"></span></div><div align="justify"><span style="color:#ff6600;">once again, welcome to the new year,</span></div><div align="justify"><span style="color:#ff6600;">jess</span></div>jesshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16250573597335345483noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8704438.post-49821862064540247392008-12-21T01:50:00.004+08:002008-12-21T02:04:57.225+08:00im fat, are you?<div align="justify"><span style="color:#cc0000;">dear jess, <p></p></span></div><div align="justify"><span style="color:#cc0000;"></span></div><div align="justify"><span style="color:#cc0000;">what is it with us Malaysians? <p></p></span></div><div align="justify"><span style="color:#cc0000;"></span></div><div align="justify"><span style="color:#cc0000;">i was in ikea and an ex collegue sees me. we greet, and guess what she says???? i heard your voice but then i saw you and i thought jessica is thin, it cant be her. and then we go on talking for maybe two seconds and she insist on asking me "why i had become fat?"and of course, it doesnt end before she brings it up several more times. <p></p></span></div><div align="justify"><span style="color:#cc0000;"></span></div><div align="justify"><span style="color:#cc0000;">let me start with what is wrong here, and try to be as objective, despite the fact that im FUMING with anger. The thing is, ive heard this several times, of me and NOT of me. people meet after a long time and guess what the first thing is that they say? not how are you or ive missed the days we hung out or even if you're married.. NOOOO, why those aren't important things.. instead they insist on mentioning the wonderful fact, that is not only just insulting but is most likely already KNOWN to the adreesee. hey you're FAT since i last saw you. and that was ten years ago. right we don grow fat ten years later. <p></p></span></div><div align="justify"><span style="color:#cc0000;"></span></div><div align="justify"><span style="color:#cc0000;">i seriously do not get it. i dont know if its a <em>malaysian </em>thing and its probably unfair to say so. its just i dont get it cos ive seen this happen so many times i absolutely need an explanation. from people of a "polite" culture who say "yes" when they mean "no" and "no" when the mean "yes" when food is offered to them, saying YOU'RE FAT to someone is okay??????? <p></p></span></div><div align="justify"><span style="color:#cc0000;"></span></div><div align="justify"><span style="color:#cc0000;">YES IM ANGRY. i've grown FATTER since the last seven years and i dont care, so why should you??? the next time someone says that to me im gonna say "well you haven't changed have you? you're still ugly."<br /><br />phatly,</span></div><div align="justify"><span style="color:#cc0000;">jess</span></div>jesshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16250573597335345483noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8704438.post-158907220032186212008-11-27T01:13:00.002+08:002008-11-27T01:25:15.656+08:00kindness equals stupidity??<span style="color:#663333;">dear jess,</span><br /><span style="color:#663333;"></span><br /><span style="color:#663333;">i guess i took a longer break than usual. hmm. its almost the end of the year, and i dont quite have any motivation for the next. i was looking back at my journals, throwing some out and reminiscing them before ditching these memories forever. </span><br /><span style="color:#663333;"></span><br /><span style="color:#663333;">i was watching my favourite sitcom, samantha who and how she discovers these memories. and how the brain protects us from remembering so much, because that is how much we can take. well, in that case i dont think i can take much cos apparently ive forgotten alot. which is why im glad i do journal. and the ones i ditched out, well, lets say some memories should be ditched. </span><br /><span style="color:#663333;"></span><br /><span style="color:#663333;">i dunno. i dont like thinking about the future either, at the moment. i came across entries of enthusiasm, the love for what i do and so on so forth. but at this point the thought of going through another year, doing the same thing, that just makes me sick. there was no point to that, except rant i guess.</span><br /><span style="color:#663333;"></span><br /><span style="color:#663333;">the other day, on the way back from my last bsf class, i saw an old man pushing an old lady with a small boy. they were facing their backs to the oncoming cars, but the little boy was waving. i looked behind, no cab, i think, hesitate, think and ,. i do the unthinkable. i stop to see if they need help. </span><br /><span style="color:#663333;"></span><br /><span style="color:#663333;">i ask them, where are you going and whats wrong??? the reason i stopped is because i genuinly thought they might be going to the hospital. instead the young boy tells me the lady has asthma and needs the medication. i look at that thingy, the one where i use to use when i was a kid to pump the medicine in my mouth. he says its 200 and i know this wasnt true. i give him 6 ringgit and say that is all i have, when this too isnt true. and thats what pisst me off. i took the time and the RISK to stop and ask a stranger if they needed help, give them what they know as "all the money i have" and then the woman on the "wheelchair" says that isnt enough and they need more cos the medicine is expensive.</span><br /><span style="color:#663333;"></span><br /><span style="color:#663333;">i should've just hit them when i had the chance. i know that sounds cruel, but so is lying to someone who was driving home alone at 12am and offerred help at the risk of her own security. i know. im stupid and i dont blame people for not stopping if i ever need help. </span><br /><span style="color:#663333;"></span><br /><span style="color:#663333;">what have we all become..</span><br /><span style="color:#663333;"></span><br /><span style="color:#663333;">yours,</span><br /><span style="color:#663333;">jess</span>jesshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16250573597335345483noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8704438.post-1117096114659621122008-10-06T01:13:00.001+08:002008-10-06T01:35:50.410+08:00PAUSE<span style="color:#33cc00;">some great drama workshops for the holidays for kids. spread the word and give me a call if you're keen!</span><br /><br /><span style="color:#ff6600;">Venue: BluBricks Kota Damansara<br />Age: 4 – 6 yrsDates: 24 – 26 Nov 08Time: 9.30am – 12.30pmFees: RM160/studentTheme: Hansel and Gretel's Journey Home<br /><br />Age: 7 – 9 yrsDates: 1 – 4 Dec 08Time: 9.30am –12:30 pm Fees: RM200/studentTheme: Creative Writing Through Drama with Yasmin Martin<br /><br />Age: 10 – 12 yrsDates: 26 – 28 Nov 08Time: 1.30am – 4.30 pm Fees: RM230/studentTheme: Making Headlines, Presenting the News, Research, Write and Report!<br /><br />Age: 13 – 16 yrsDates: 1 – 4 Dec 08Time: 12.30am – 4.30 pm Fees: RM250/studentTheme: Drama for Teens</span>jesshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16250573597335345483noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8704438.post-485919589970085232008-09-17T01:40:00.004+08:002008-09-17T01:55:45.572+08:00confessions of a commitment-phob<span style="color:#666600;">dear jess</span><br /><span style="color:#666600;"></span><br /><span style="color:#666600;">i dont know what i want. i am inclined to know wat i do not want more than what i do want. i do not want to become a "suit," nor do i want to wake up everyday at 7 o clock to beat the jam, nor do i want to wait for it to become 5 so i can clock out.</span><br /><span style="color:#666600;"></span><br /><span style="color:#666600;">i have it pretty good i must say. i work really hard, if for one second you dare to think that the stupid suits work harder than me. i do a six day week to a clientale of a ten year age gap, prepare hours of teaching ranging from things that require me to use kids glue all the way to shakespeare AND im trying my best to be a researcher and a scholar. </span><br /><span style="color:#666600;"></span><br /><span style="color:#666600;">now that im done bragging, or complaining... iam inclined to realise that suddenly, all i feel like doing is just dumping all these to the bin. just change everything i ever worked for and i dunno, become a wheatgrass collector or something. </span><br /><span style="color:#666600;"></span><br /><span style="color:#666600;">just when i get something i dont want it anymore. and now i think all this is holding back from me wanting to do something else. </span><br /><span style="color:#666600;"></span><br /><span style="color:#666600;">its horrible having to live with someone like me. trust me.</span><br /><span style="color:#666600;"></span><br /><span style="color:#666600;">XOXO</span>jesshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16250573597335345483noreply@blogger.com0