<?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-16547207</id><updated>2011-04-22T06:57:27.318+08:00</updated><title type='text'>magnificence</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://statuesque.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16547207/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://statuesque.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><link rel='next' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16547207/posts/default?start-index=101&amp;max-results=100'/><author><name>pulchritudinous</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01745138746361137024</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>113</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16547207.post-115367110798937521</id><published>2006-07-24T00:03:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-07-24T00:13:02.300+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>and its been so long since i've updated. today i realise how much i've changed. the person i was 3 years back, its no longer me. i've become this complicated creature whose starting to believe in absolutely nothing. ceasing her believe for love, relationships, trust, everything sacred. really, what have i become? and its then i realise that all this is cos of the cruelty of this world that we live in. if i was to be the person i was yrs ago, i would have died by now. all that has happened in my life, yes i have changed, but i've become stronger. all the crap i've dealt with, all the continous breaking of trust over and over again, yes it has made me hollow from within, but its what has made me more cautious. oh well.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;so exams are coming. lets not use the word stress here cos it would be an understatement. i'm just looking forward to the aftermath of all this. cos when this ends, i have a fantastic holiday to look forward to, a hopefully fullfilling job which will give me money to spend and a university entrance to a whole new world. oh i haven't mentioned the best part of all the stress i'm going through. dad has made a deal with me. i do well for exams and he'd get me a car. like my own car. my own car. how exciting is that? very.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ok thats life tentatively. i'll be back again. prolly in a few weeks. maybe months. wish me luck for the crap i'm about to face.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16547207-115367110798937521?l=statuesque.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://statuesque.blogspot.com/feeds/115367110798937521/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16547207&amp;postID=115367110798937521' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16547207/posts/default/115367110798937521'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16547207/posts/default/115367110798937521'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://statuesque.blogspot.com/2006/07/and-its-been-so-long-since-ive-updated.html' title=''/><author><name>pulchritudinous</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01745138746361137024</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16547207.post-115078079491887014</id><published>2006-06-20T13:11:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-06-20T14:56:29.526+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;TODAY'S HEADLINES&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;--&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; chem paper sucked a bit cos i was half an hour late and i had half an hour to do 40 qns of mcq. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;--&gt; &lt;/strong&gt;the rain sucked in the morning, ultimate reason why i was late other then the fact that i din sleep well.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;--&gt; &lt;/strong&gt;my skirt's now longer. either cos it streched or cos of my lack of appetite past 2 weeks.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;--&gt; &lt;/strong&gt;i have made a note to self to stop feeling. cos life is ridiculously cruel. and i'll go crazy if i sit and think whats happening. back to my stone self. as if its that easy to move.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;--&gt; &lt;/strong&gt;omen and silent hill have crappy endings.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;--&lt;strong&gt;&gt; &lt;/strong&gt;this blog might be closed down soon due to the lack of life in my lifeless life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;quit hurting me&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;quit.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;just quit.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16547207-115078079491887014?l=statuesque.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://statuesque.blogspot.com/feeds/115078079491887014/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16547207&amp;postID=115078079491887014' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16547207/posts/default/115078079491887014'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16547207/posts/default/115078079491887014'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://statuesque.blogspot.com/2006/06/todays-headlines-chem-paper-sucked-bit.html' title=''/><author><name>pulchritudinous</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01745138746361137024</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16547207.post-115020936200491963</id><published>2006-06-13T22:32:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-06-13T22:36:02.060+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;em&gt;its been a long wait. &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;and its going to be a longer wait. &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;a lot of waiting has been done and there is still more waiting to do. today, right here, right now i'm finally confessing. &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;the wait is driving me against the wall. &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;i'm going to go crazy. &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;i am going crazy. &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;i don't know how much more i have to wait.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;but waiting. &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;waiting.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;waiting.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16547207-115020936200491963?l=statuesque.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://statuesque.blogspot.com/feeds/115020936200491963/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16547207&amp;postID=115020936200491963' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16547207/posts/default/115020936200491963'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16547207/posts/default/115020936200491963'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://statuesque.blogspot.com/2006/06/its-been-long-wait.html' title=''/><author><name>pulchritudinous</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01745138746361137024</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16547207.post-115008652510511711</id><published>2006-06-12T12:20:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-06-12T12:28:45.123+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>so the next 3 weeks are gonna be a tough one. this week i'm gonna be caught up preparing for next week's exams. heres the thing. elango has given so much work that i've spent my past 2 weeks doing his work. and i'm the sort of person who doesn't like to leave things halfway. so yea i haven't exactly started on my other two. great! but i will finish the last bulk of his work in a few hours and prepare for my chem consultation tomorrow. my intention is to finish chem revision by this friday morning since i have another consultation on friday. man there is so much to do so little time. time to sleep lesser.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;so oh well, next week tues maths, wed chem and friday bio. and i can't wait for friday cos of 2 reasons. 1stly cos it'll mark the end of exams and secondly cos i'll prolly be going to malaysia before the school starts again. my darling bro decided to change his plans for me so that i could go too. so when i return i have to go full force driving cos my test is on 29th. Yes my test is next next thurs and if i do pass it it means that i'll get my license and i'll be the 1st girl in my family to pass the test 1st time round and also the 1st girl in the family to get a driver's license. absolutely exciting. i really hope i do pass it. i'm not worried about driving on the road. its more of circuit driving, the directional change and crank course.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;so wish me luck everyone. next 3 weeks gonna be tough.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16547207-115008652510511711?l=statuesque.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://statuesque.blogspot.com/feeds/115008652510511711/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16547207&amp;postID=115008652510511711' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16547207/posts/default/115008652510511711'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16547207/posts/default/115008652510511711'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://statuesque.blogspot.com/2006/06/so-next-3-weeks-are-gonna-be-tough-one.html' title=''/><author><name>pulchritudinous</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01745138746361137024</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16547207.post-114925566188369412</id><published>2006-06-02T21:39:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-06-02T21:41:01.900+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Q: WHY DO MEN BECOME SMARTER DURING SEX?&lt;br /&gt;A: Because they are plugged into a genius&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Q: WHY DON'T WOMEN BLINK DURING FOREPLAY?&lt;br /&gt;A: They don't have enough time&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Q: WHY DOES IT TAKE 1 MILLION SPERM TO FERTILIZE ONE EGG?&lt;br /&gt;A: They don't stop for directions&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Q: WHY DID GOD PUT MEN ON EARTH?&lt;br /&gt;A: Because a vibrator can't mow the lawn&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Q: WHY DON'T WOMEN HAVE MEN'S BRAINS?&lt;br /&gt;A: Because they don't have penises to put them in&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Q: WHAT DO ELECTRIC TRAINS AND BREASTS HAVE IN COMMON?&lt;br /&gt;A: They're intended for children but men usually end up playing with them&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Q: WHY DO MEN SNORE WHEN THEY LIE ON THEIR BACKS?&lt;br /&gt;A: Because their balls fall over their assholes and they vapor lock&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Q: WHY WERE MEN GIVEN LARGER BRAINS THAN DOGS?&lt;br /&gt;A: So they won't hump women's legs at cocktail parties&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Q: WHY DID GOD MAKE MEN BEFORE WOMEN?&lt;br /&gt;A: You need a rough draft before you make a final copy&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Q: HOW MANY MEN DOES IT TAKE TO PUT A TOILET SEAT DOWN?A: Nobody knows, since it has never happened&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Q: ARGUMENTS: A woman has the last word in any argument.&lt;br /&gt;A: Anything a man says after that is the beginning of a new argument&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16547207-114925566188369412?l=statuesque.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://statuesque.blogspot.com/feeds/114925566188369412/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16547207&amp;postID=114925566188369412' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16547207/posts/default/114925566188369412'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16547207/posts/default/114925566188369412'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://statuesque.blogspot.com/2006/06/q-why-do-men-become-smarter-during-sex.html' title=''/><author><name>pulchritudinous</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01745138746361137024</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16547207.post-114909050312446612</id><published>2006-05-31T22:45:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-05-31T23:48:23.223+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Hey Gorgeous&lt;br /&gt;A poem is a piece of poetry, much like you, apiece of beauty, just felt like saying that, nicepics,really nice pics :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Take CareHeartbeat @ ShekhP.S. Keep Smiling :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;By de way, do add me in @&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i mean can u imagine..i got that?? like wth really. i just hate it how some of them just don't get the picture even when i don't reply their msg-es or reject their requests. i mean these are 25 26 year olds who just don't realise that even if they write me a compo of compliments i'm not gonna get flattered or older. for heaven's sake i'm still 18!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;anyway screw that..i'm actually in a good mood. don't ask me why i don't know. i'm gonna be up tonight cos i realise that i won't be able to finish my maths assi unless i stay up and do it cos i'll keep on procrastinating.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;she swears she's scared to do this&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;cos she remembers saying "he's just different" at one point of time&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;she doesn't want to fall in that trap all over again&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;cos she doesn't know what his departure would do to her this time&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;but its just him, &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;he just makes her want to jump on the bed &lt;/em&gt;&lt;em&gt;and smile like an idiot&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;its about time she stops seeing the future and let things flow&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;its just about time for the ceasure of the heart's and brain's riot&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;she's scared she swears she's scared&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;but its just those things you won't know about till you take the plunge&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;and no matter what the outcome&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;you just have to live with it, treat it as part of life's run&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;but yea he leaves her speechless, &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;sweeps her off her feet&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;makes her miss him so&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;she just awaits the next meet&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;fragments..&lt;/em&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16547207-114909050312446612?l=statuesque.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://statuesque.blogspot.com/feeds/114909050312446612/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16547207&amp;postID=114909050312446612' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16547207/posts/default/114909050312446612'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16547207/posts/default/114909050312446612'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://statuesque.blogspot.com/2006/05/hey-gorgeous-poem-is-piece-of-poetry.html' title=''/><author><name>pulchritudinous</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01745138746361137024</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16547207.post-114874419533592209</id><published>2006-05-27T23:28:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-05-27T23:36:35.456+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>must watch Fanaa. new movie by Yash. Aamir and Kajol. oh my god she looks fab in the movie, jus so pretty. and like this the next movie after Kal Ho Na Ho that actually set me in tears. i din quite like the ending which i won mention jus in case ppl wanna catch that movie, but oh well, nevertheless, still like it. there was one thing i really liked about the movie and thats the way they portrayed love. well yea you'd think hindi movies, thats typical, but i don't know this movie was just like magical. and Aamir's character is exactly the kind of guy i'm looking for. oh Aamir..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;tomorrow will be gettin up early to hit library. today i hit the gym only to find out the countless cals i've gained. oh well dun care cos i'll do something about them after a's. and i have this stupid skin allergy nonsense on my face, its killing me i swear. it better be better soon.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16547207-114874419533592209?l=statuesque.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://statuesque.blogspot.com/feeds/114874419533592209/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16547207&amp;postID=114874419533592209' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16547207/posts/default/114874419533592209'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16547207/posts/default/114874419533592209'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://statuesque.blogspot.com/2006/05/must-watch-fanaa.html' title=''/><author><name>pulchritudinous</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01745138746361137024</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16547207.post-114848158902355373</id><published>2006-05-24T22:39:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-05-24T22:39:49.046+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>UTT's fucking hot!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16547207-114848158902355373?l=statuesque.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://statuesque.blogspot.com/feeds/114848158902355373/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16547207&amp;postID=114848158902355373' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16547207/posts/default/114848158902355373'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16547207/posts/default/114848158902355373'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://statuesque.blogspot.com/2006/05/utts-fucking-hot.html' title=''/><author><name>pulchritudinous</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01745138746361137024</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16547207.post-114795417660085238</id><published>2006-05-18T20:02:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-05-18T20:09:36.626+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>so shoot me. i didn't go to school. well couldn't help it. mugging till 4.30 and only having 2 hours of sleep really got to me. wait not only that, having spa 1st thing in the morn, then rushing for SYF and after performance rushing back to school for dance, i was dead tired. yes syf drama is finally over and tk god everything went well. everyone remembered their lines, a lot of spontaneous stuff too and most importantly, i had a good hair day. although i had to be clad in this disgusting nighty which was terribly gross and defnitely not something i'd wear to get into bed, it was worth it cos it actually got the audience to laugh, that was the whole idea. cos like i was suppose to be this transformed wife. the wife previously was really bad hair and make up, and she gets behind the bed and turns into me. and i sashay out and swing my hair and pretend to be all hot and seductive. oh well, for that few seconds i forgot how gross my outfit was. so results won't be out till next week. we have chances to win gold. really hope we do.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16547207-114795417660085238?l=statuesque.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://statuesque.blogspot.com/feeds/114795417660085238/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16547207&amp;postID=114795417660085238' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16547207/posts/default/114795417660085238'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16547207/posts/default/114795417660085238'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://statuesque.blogspot.com/2006/05/so-shoot-me.html' title=''/><author><name>pulchritudinous</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01745138746361137024</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16547207.post-114780467511343399</id><published>2006-05-17T02:26:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-05-17T02:37:55.126+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>so its 2.30 in the morning and i'm dead tired. SPA is so draining. Chem SPA went well. they actually set the paper to be easy. Bio SPA in like 5 and a half hours. i mean Bio SPA is completely ridiculous. its like 6 pages of words all written out in one hour. i'm talking about structure of cells, the functions and properties, the effect it has with the variable, the variables both independent and dependent, the control, the method of measurement, the plan of experiment safety procedures and reliability. trust me its crazy. once its over at nine tomorrow it will be the commencemt of rush hour. i gotta do make up, run through lines, takes pictures and leave school at around for SYF. weeks of practise just boils down to 40 mins.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;reminds me of SYF Dance days. friday will be like that too, weeks of practise boiling down to 5 mins on stage.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;today i'm rather ticked off by a certain someone who just can't get it in his thick skull that i dislike him. he brags about the fact that he "dumped" me but he doesn't realise that it just makes him that much more un-gentlemanly. i mean for heaven sake, we're talking about the same guy who didn't have guts to break up with me in person. prolly cos he knew i'd slap his face. and he derives that my association with his sister is cos i'm lesbo. my god thank god we broke up. how could i be with someone who is so close minded. i mean i don't conclude that just cos he is so sissy he's gay. not that he's exactly a man but he's a boy with testosterone in him. i can kill all his stupid arguements against me, but i guess i shouldn't get my hands dirty. oh well, can't be bothered.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;good luck to me trying to wake up.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16547207-114780467511343399?l=statuesque.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://statuesque.blogspot.com/feeds/114780467511343399/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16547207&amp;postID=114780467511343399' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16547207/posts/default/114780467511343399'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16547207/posts/default/114780467511343399'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://statuesque.blogspot.com/2006/05/so-its-2.html' title=''/><author><name>pulchritudinous</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01745138746361137024</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16547207.post-114753454720219765</id><published>2006-05-13T23:28:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-05-13T23:35:47.220+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>i wish we had never met. i wish we had never gotten to know each other. i wish we had never spoken. i wish i didn't feel this way for you. i feel like a foolish fool. one who knows would achieve nothing in the end. i hate myself for feeling this way cos its wrong. its wrong to like you. it really is. cos this will go no where.  not cos i don't want to let it go no where but cos you don't want to let it go anywhere. everytime we talk i think everything is fine. but then again its not. you're no longer the same and i should stop. its time i do. its wrong it just is. i have to concentrate on the more important things in my life now like my a's. i have to stop thinking of you cos its just wrong cos when it comes to you, i can't have any expectations. you're like the lie that can never be the truth, the white that can never be black, the pain that can never not hurt. i wish we were not like that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;i broke my oath&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;i'm drinking again&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;drowning again&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;its back to square one&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;move on bitch!&lt;/em&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16547207-114753454720219765?l=statuesque.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://statuesque.blogspot.com/feeds/114753454720219765/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16547207&amp;postID=114753454720219765' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16547207/posts/default/114753454720219765'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16547207/posts/default/114753454720219765'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://statuesque.blogspot.com/2006/05/i-wish-we-had-never-met.html' title=''/><author><name>pulchritudinous</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01745138746361137024</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16547207.post-114717587981838089</id><published>2006-05-09T19:53:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-05-09T19:59:18.346+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>this week and next week. gonna be crazy crazy. chem test tomorrow. performance in front of minister tomorrow. drama rehearsal on thurs. driving class on thursday. drama rehearsal on friday. mugging for SPA on saturday. mugging for maths test on sunday. drving class on monday. drama rehearsal on tuesday. chem SPA on tuesday. drama itself on wenesday. bio SPA on wenesday. maths test on thursday. dance performance in NTU on friday. what the hell really. its crazy. oh wait and major change, drving test next month instead on july. oh my god.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16547207-114717587981838089?l=statuesque.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://statuesque.blogspot.com/feeds/114717587981838089/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16547207&amp;postID=114717587981838089' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16547207/posts/default/114717587981838089'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16547207/posts/default/114717587981838089'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://statuesque.blogspot.com/2006/05/this-week-and-next-week.html' title=''/><author><name>pulchritudinous</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01745138746361137024</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16547207.post-114684015710769387</id><published>2006-05-05T22:19:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-05-05T22:54:12.396+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>WARNING: if you're a male chauvinist, the following post would seem offensive to you. please discontinue reading.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;men stink.&lt;br /&gt;wait i don't even know when they will grow up.&lt;br /&gt;i just don't understand how we women are strong enough to tolerate their nonsense. oh wait we are strong creatures anyway. these male species. first Adam came on earth, something like god's failed experiment. he improvised and created eve, close to perfection. thats why he took 6 days anyway. and when she eats the apple our dear Adam just blames Eve even tho he ate the apple to. and thats why we women go thru the pain of labour and other heartaches cos Eve was punished for eating the apple. i mean can you imagine men giving birth, they'll die, metaphorically. basically the male gender has lacked the sense of responsibility since day one. further more, all that attracts them are our curves, regardless of where the curves are located. all that facinates them are holes and boobs. GROW UP. we are not sent on earth just to be your slaves, slaves to sex, slaves to your nonsense, slaves to your crap, slaves to your behavior, god i can go on.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;you guys are like so difficult to get. you boys never open up. we have to figure out whats goin on in your mind. like we're not psychic you know. cos if we were i don't think we would be attached to you men anyway. you shower "love" on us one day and forget us the next and expect to be there waiting cos you're a "man". you call yourselves men. what men? is manhood in taking advantage of a lady? and ever wonder why in this era their is such a thing called lesb marriages and bungs? well now you know.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;there always has to be something lacking about you. if you're hot, you're not smart. if you're smart you're not hot. if you're hot you're a bastard cos all you want is sex. if you're not then you're just a nerd. if you're sensitive, you're possessive. if you're not possessive you're not sensitive. if you're young, you're immature. if you're old, you're just old oh and still immature. if you're understanding you don't open up. if you're not understanding you're just too much. oh my god i can go on.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;how did god send u men to earth anyway. and are we on this earth to be their "other halfs". more of like the 99.9% sense that they lack. oh my god what is my other half gonna be like. nightmare. time to turn into a nun and stop being slaves to men.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;oh well on the path to eternal bliss- being menless. 10 months to being single and still counting. i love me. and i love women.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16547207-114684015710769387?l=statuesque.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://statuesque.blogspot.com/feeds/114684015710769387/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16547207&amp;postID=114684015710769387' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16547207/posts/default/114684015710769387'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16547207/posts/default/114684015710769387'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://statuesque.blogspot.com/2006/05/warning-if-youre-male-chauvinist.html' title=''/><author><name>pulchritudinous</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01745138746361137024</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16547207.post-114588375409768271</id><published>2006-04-24T20:43:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-04-26T22:40:25.050+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;em&gt;life is like cheese. it looks plain but there is actually a lot of ingredients. sometimes it tastes good, sometimes it doesn't. sometimes it smells bad but tastes good and sometimes it smells bad and tastes bad. sometimes it may taste like something, but it may be made of something else. end of the day you need to spread it something to really savour the taste.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;my random analogy since i'm eating cheese while writing this and i've been blabberring the whole day. oh well stress gets to you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;err...men need to stop thinking that they are the king of the jungle. cos they're not.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16547207-114588375409768271?l=statuesque.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://statuesque.blogspot.com/feeds/114588375409768271/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16547207&amp;postID=114588375409768271' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16547207/posts/default/114588375409768271'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16547207/posts/default/114588375409768271'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://statuesque.blogspot.com/2006/04/life-is-like-cheese.html' title=''/><author><name>pulchritudinous</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01745138746361137024</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16547207.post-114581002368334341</id><published>2006-04-24T00:30:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-04-24T00:39:03.306+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Saturday, July 23, 2005- 2:20 PM&lt;br /&gt;yesterday was more than a day; it marked an entrance, and a renewal. of self, of life and of spirit. i dont know; im just glad it happened for the change it is set to bring, and for everything.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;july 22nd, friday, at 645 we left, at 730 we were; and at 930 we closed our eyes&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;yesterday was the longest friday of my life; so many things on my mind, so many thoughts and questions, a soliloquy in black and white. we went down to harbour point; and you looked unhappy. your eyes were flashing in the train, as lights fleeted by, emulating the very same train of thoughts in my mind.no second guessin; better be ready for confessionwe walked up to pastamania; you had the chicken baked lasagna thing, i had that thing with penne. and finally we started talking; in the uneasy tension; the world around eerily silent. not understanding the words; yet completely comprehensive of the situation. and then down by the sea...and gave me exactly what i was looking for; and now. it is a secret to be kept for some time; and we will unveil ourselves in time to come; just not now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;the way you smile, how you like sun zara and main yahaan hoon; your big bright eyes and long silky hair; everything; and i will not press further.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;WARNING: NO. I DO NOT FIND TRAIPSING DOWN ORCHARD ROAD WITH SAREE CLAD PEOPLE AMUSING TO SAY THE LEAST. not unless that saree clad person happens to be gorgeous and wearing a dazzling white saree.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;so many questions raised about the first and last that never were; and finally ive reached all that i need to- and reach fulfillment.such is the nature of this life; that many things will be thrown in front of you; in a concerted effort to throw you off balance; to prevent you from really getting where you need to get- still slowly im getting there; and yesterday i was back to how i needed to be.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i dont care; look outside; its dark like its going to rain- look inside and its all so different; bathed in the warm glow of everything right now; like the fine line between silence and springim on the outside; and im looking inthe dark clouds depress me; and still,i forget how to write, with the reminder in my mind thatthings are never as bad as they seem; because usually they dont really matter-and that there is a true state for amourme and my gemini differential. we been served well.and till then; we will deny you the true name of sonia; and then some more&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;re-collection of the past, reminder of the pain.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;edited from somewhere.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16547207-114581002368334341?l=statuesque.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://statuesque.blogspot.com/feeds/114581002368334341/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16547207&amp;postID=114581002368334341' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16547207/posts/default/114581002368334341'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16547207/posts/default/114581002368334341'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://statuesque.blogspot.com/2006/04/saturday-july-23-2005-220-pm-yesterday.html' title=''/><author><name>pulchritudinous</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01745138746361137024</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16547207.post-114572416803031762</id><published>2006-04-23T00:40:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-04-23T00:42:48.140+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>wedding is postponed. thank god. when i heard it was on june 12th, i didn't know if i should be happy or upset or what. cos like 19th june wld be my common tests. anyway thank god wedding's in december.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;will be turning into an elder sis to someone this week. will be turning into an aunty for a baby in a few months.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16547207-114572416803031762?l=statuesque.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://statuesque.blogspot.com/feeds/114572416803031762/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16547207&amp;postID=114572416803031762' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16547207/posts/default/114572416803031762'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16547207/posts/default/114572416803031762'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://statuesque.blogspot.com/2006/04/wedding-is-postponed.html' title=''/><author><name>pulchritudinous</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01745138746361137024</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16547207.post-114545757242642447</id><published>2006-04-19T22:28:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-04-20T21:27:56.810+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>i've got an announcement to make. i'm in love!!!&lt;br /&gt;oh my god i'm so in love. i've never felt this way before. i always thought i did but this time its for real. i spend every morning with him if possible, i'd love to every single day. and today when my mouth set upon his, i knew that next few seconds would be eternal bliss. he's just perfect and absolutely wonderful. he makes me feel happy when i'm down and cheers me up. he defnitely puts a smile on my face. through these tough times i'm so glad i've found him. he's like my companion and i'm going to love him always and forever. he's just so perfect and he's all mine.&lt;br /&gt;he's none other then my Fruit Tree Mango juice nata de coco. that little yellow can, it just tastes sooooooooooo good!!! those who haven't tried it, try it, its sooo nice. i'm just in love with it. but of course nothin beats chocolate.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;oh come on. you thought i was in love? with a guy? never!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16547207-114545757242642447?l=statuesque.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://statuesque.blogspot.com/feeds/114545757242642447/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16547207&amp;postID=114545757242642447' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16547207/posts/default/114545757242642447'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16547207/posts/default/114545757242642447'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://statuesque.blogspot.com/2006/04/ive-got-announcement-to-make.html' title=''/><author><name>pulchritudinous</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01745138746361137024</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16547207.post-114519654260597097</id><published>2006-04-16T21:53:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-04-16T22:09:02.626+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;a bit on life currently..&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;yes our script got rejected cos apparently its too rude. just because we mention a bot about dicks and sex and rape indirectly does not mean its rude. crap i had such a wonderful bitchy role. now its gonna change. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;dance is freaking tough. i mean its just so fast beat and everything is hard core bharatnatyam, something which i'm bad at since i lack its background. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;driving doing good. will get a license if i pass my test on 27-july. until next mth no more trips to gombak. now i can finally stay in sch or lib.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;tests are fucked up as usual. dun wanna talk abt thm.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16547207-114519654260597097?l=statuesque.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://statuesque.blogspot.com/feeds/114519654260597097/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16547207&amp;postID=114519654260597097' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16547207/posts/default/114519654260597097'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16547207/posts/default/114519654260597097'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://statuesque.blogspot.com/2006/04/bit-on-life-currently.html' title=''/><author><name>pulchritudinous</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01745138746361137024</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16547207.post-114494058648051586</id><published>2006-04-13T23:00:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-04-13T23:05:17.690+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>haha so me.... except for the 1st line.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&gt;---------------DECEMBER BABY ---------------&gt; &gt;&lt;br /&gt;&gt;This straight-up means ur the most good-looking&gt; &gt;&lt;br /&gt;&gt;person possible... better than all of these other&gt; &gt;&lt;br /&gt;&gt;months! Loyal and generous. Patriotic. Competitive&gt; &gt;&lt;br /&gt;&gt;in everything. Active in games and interactions.&gt; &gt;&lt;br /&gt;&gt;Impatient and hasty. Ambitious. Influential in&gt; &gt; &gt;organizations. Fun to be with. Easy to talk to,&gt; &gt;&lt;br /&gt;&gt;though hard to understand. Thinks far with vision,&gt; &gt;&lt;br /&gt;&gt;yet complicated to know. Easily influenced by&gt; &gt;&lt;br /&gt;&gt;kindness. Polite and soft-spoken. Having lots of&gt; &gt;&lt;br /&gt;&gt;ideas. Sensitive. Active mind. Hesitating, tends to&gt; &gt;&lt;br /&gt;&gt;delay. Choosy and always wants the best.&gt; &gt;&lt;br /&gt;&gt;Temperamental. Funny and humorous. Loves to&gt; &gt;&lt;br /&gt;&gt;joke. Good debating skills. Has that someone&gt; &gt;&lt;br /&gt;&gt;always on his/her mind. Talkative. Daydreamer.&gt; &gt;&lt;br /&gt;&gt;Friendly. Knows how to make friends. Abiding.&gt; &gt;&lt;br /&gt;&gt;Able to show character. one guy/girl kind of&gt; &gt;&lt;br /&gt;&gt;person. Loveable. Easily hurt. Prone to getting&gt; &gt;&lt;br /&gt;&gt;colds. loves music. pretty/handsome. Loves to&gt; &gt;&lt;br /&gt;&gt;dress up. Easily bored. Fussy. Seldom shows&gt; &gt;&lt;br /&gt;&gt;emotions. Takes time to recover when hurt.&gt; &gt;&lt;br /&gt;&gt;Sensitive.&gt; &gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16547207-114494058648051586?l=statuesque.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://statuesque.blogspot.com/feeds/114494058648051586/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16547207&amp;postID=114494058648051586' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16547207/posts/default/114494058648051586'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16547207/posts/default/114494058648051586'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://statuesque.blogspot.com/2006/04/haha-so-me.html' title=''/><author><name>pulchritudinous</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01745138746361137024</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16547207.post-114493399143294088</id><published>2006-04-13T20:33:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-04-13T21:13:13.933+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;the advantages and disadvantages of life...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;being a girl&lt;/strong&gt;:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;advantage&lt;/em&gt;--&gt; you turn heads.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;disadvantage&lt;/em&gt;--&gt; period&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;being a guy&lt;/strong&gt;:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;advantage&lt;/em&gt;--&gt; screw as many girls without any proof&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;disadvantage&lt;/em&gt;--&gt; misbehavior would lead to slaps by the lady, and she won't be called an abuser&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;being a dancer:&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;advantage--&gt;&lt;/em&gt; a really nice bod with long lean legs&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;disadvantage--&gt; &lt;/em&gt;the muscle cramps afterwards&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;taking A's:&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;advantage--&gt; &lt;/em&gt;the entry in the U and a future graduate&lt;br /&gt;disadvantage--&gt; the whole process of mugging in your two yr JC life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;having a bf:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;advantage--&gt; &lt;/em&gt;the presents, the love, the affection.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;disadvantage--&gt; &lt;/em&gt;the childish behavior, the problems, the unfaithfulness you have to deal with.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;having a gf: &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;advantage--&gt; &lt;/em&gt;a trophy to show off to the other guy friends and the pleasure you receive.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;disadvantage--&gt; &lt;/em&gt;the nagging, the being-tied-down crap, the drama&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;being a good bitch:&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;advantage--&gt;&lt;/em&gt; guys love you, for the strong personality and sexy attitude&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;disadvantage--&gt; &lt;/em&gt;the girls hate you for bitching about them&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;being a bad bitch:&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;advantage--&gt; &lt;/em&gt;guys still love you cos you're their disposable gf, sleep and throw type.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;disadvantage--&gt; &lt;/em&gt;girls still hate you for the slut that you are&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;losing your virginity:&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;advantage--&gt; you're being a man, just doing what all your other guy friends are doing&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;disadvantage--&gt; you're labelled a slut even if its the guy who cheated on you&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;being a lesbian:&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;advantage--&gt;&lt;/em&gt; she and you have so much in common and is so much sensitive like you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;disadvantage--&gt;&lt;/em&gt; the gossips and world talk you have to deal with&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;being a gay:&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;advantage--&gt; ???&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;disadvantage--&gt; &lt;/em&gt;the society&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;being a hottie:&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;advantage--&gt; &lt;/em&gt;the wanted attention&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;disadvantage--&gt; &lt;/em&gt;the unwanted attention&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;shopping:&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;advantage--&gt; &lt;/em&gt;the pretty new things&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;disadvantage--&gt; &lt;/em&gt;the money gone&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;eating chocolate:&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;advantage--&gt; &lt;/em&gt;the happiness you feel cos of the endorphins released&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;disadvantage--&gt;&lt;/em&gt; the slogging you have to do at the gym&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16547207-114493399143294088?l=statuesque.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://statuesque.blogspot.com/feeds/114493399143294088/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16547207&amp;postID=114493399143294088' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16547207/posts/default/114493399143294088'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16547207/posts/default/114493399143294088'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://statuesque.blogspot.com/2006/04/advantages-and-disadvantages-of-life.html' title=''/><author><name>pulchritudinous</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01745138746361137024</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16547207.post-114450747528220955</id><published>2006-04-08T22:37:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-04-08T22:44:35.306+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>when will you guys actually grow up, seriously. why can't you just stop hurting her. all she talks about is you and i tell her not to. cos she's so wasting her time. yes darling you're wasting your time on him. these guys think we're some toys they can play with. when they were young it was guns and soldiers. when they grew it became x-box and now its girls.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;seriously when will you guys grow up? oh wait i know. Never.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16547207-114450747528220955?l=statuesque.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://statuesque.blogspot.com/feeds/114450747528220955/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16547207&amp;postID=114450747528220955' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16547207/posts/default/114450747528220955'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16547207/posts/default/114450747528220955'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://statuesque.blogspot.com/2006/04/when-will-you-guys-actually-grow-up.html' title=''/><author><name>pulchritudinous</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01745138746361137024</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16547207.post-114443101738625854</id><published>2006-04-08T01:02:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-04-08T01:30:17.506+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>we've all reached tt point of time when we start to lose it. my teacher has been standing at the school gate everyday mentioning the day and how many days left to friday. like monday he went " come on its monday friday is 5 days away it will come soon." and today he goes come on its friday. TGIF. (thank god its friday). and since today we have just long hours, my class lose it as well. last two hours, GP, we're just laughing at everything, laughing for five mins at everything, just being stupid basically. &lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7227/1573/320/Photo-0302.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;kelvin starts clinging on to lockers.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7227/1573/320/Photo-0305.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;i get obsessed over double chocolate chip cookies from famous amos. p.s people who have not tried it and are chocolate lovers, are you crazy? you're missing out on heaven.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7227/1573/320/Photo-0306.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;bus stops with manequins of children studying facinate me.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7227/1573/320/Photo-0318.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;chitra starts thinking that chamomile tea will help her sleep better. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7227/1573/320/Photo-0321.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;mathura gets obssessed with road safety signs.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7227/1573/320/Photo-0322.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;i start taking pics of anything to do with cardio.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7227/1573/320/Photo-0347.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i begin paying attention in lectures.&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7227/1573/320/Photo-0348.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;mathura gets facinated by her arms.&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7227/1573/320/Photo-0323.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;sanest thing done the past week? met up with pei ru and had a smashing time. i look retarded but like ive mentioned, i hate my phone and can't wait to get rid of it.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;oh yes, as guilty as i feel, had a smashing sunday watching hot boys run ard the field after a ball. well boys have always loved doing that, and i have always enjoyed watching them.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16547207-114443101738625854?l=statuesque.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://statuesque.blogspot.com/feeds/114443101738625854/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16547207&amp;postID=114443101738625854' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16547207/posts/default/114443101738625854'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16547207/posts/default/114443101738625854'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://statuesque.blogspot.com/2006/04/weve-all-reached-tt-point-of-time-when.html' title=''/><author><name>pulchritudinous</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01745138746361137024</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16547207.post-114398258893831625</id><published>2006-04-02T20:42:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-04-02T20:59:44.636+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>23 reasons why i love being a girl.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1) god took seven days to create us, thats how special we are.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2) we have so much to flaunt about, from our hair to our toes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3) when we look hot, guys look at us, and increase our confidence. girls don't check guys out like that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4) as much as we have to go thru pain for 30 years of our lives every month, we have the privilege of bringing a new life to this world.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5) gossip!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;6) we can openly go shopping like crazy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;7) we don't have to carry heavy weights or do other stupid things just to prove to our guy friends that we're macho.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;8) we get to cry, and we don't have to worry about what others think of us.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;9) we can wear anything we want, feminine clothes skirts jeans whatever. can you imagine a guy in a skirt?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;10) the reason why its a man's world is because we can tolerate their crap. imagine if it was a women's world, men would be no where.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;11) can you imagine being a guy? the imatured, heartbreaker,&lt;br /&gt;irresponsible, player?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;12) we get to wear pretty things like earrings and bangles and heels!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;13) we get to keep long hair, tie it up and all. so pretty! it just looks wrong on guys.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;14) we can go "oh so cute!" without being considered gay.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;15) can you imagine getting up every morning to shave your face. ouch!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;16) we can take hours to get ready because guys know the waiting is all worthwhile.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;17) we can do stupid things, and we'd still be cute.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;18) guys just have so many things about us that they can compliment.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;19) we have the privilege of having smooth legs and arms.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;20) we have the ultimate weapon, tears!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;21) end of the day, bungs are hotter than gays.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;22) we get prettier by the days.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;23) we can use make-up to hide our flaws and bring out our best features.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16547207-114398258893831625?l=statuesque.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://statuesque.blogspot.com/feeds/114398258893831625/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16547207&amp;postID=114398258893831625' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16547207/posts/default/114398258893831625'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16547207/posts/default/114398258893831625'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://statuesque.blogspot.com/2006/04/23-reasons-why-i-love-being-girl.html' title=''/><author><name>pulchritudinous</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01745138746361137024</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16547207.post-114355566279230485</id><published>2006-03-28T22:12:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-03-28T22:21:02.836+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>early to bed, early to rise, makes priyanka healthy wealthy and wise?&lt;br /&gt;oh well, whatever. i have no idea where that came from. but excuse people like me who are under the pressure of the current education system, awaiting their A's. i mean believe its crazy. you think O's are bad? wait till A's. its like the week before O's pressure throughout the year.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;anyway, next.&lt;br /&gt;so i went to my favourite place in the whole Gombak today. i'm talking about the gym, the one place where i can feast my eyes on hot muscular men with broad shoulders and perfectly toned arms. not perfectly toned, well, then they're getting it toned. and considering the fact that thats my favourite part of a man's physique, gym is like a chocolate factory. yea i like toned arms not muscular, muscular is a definite turn off. but the best part about gym is the feeling you get after a workout. now, realising that i have gained 1.5 kgs ever since i've gotten back from india, its back to crash course dieting.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;so i drove past yasmin's and mun'z house. so exciting. and wedding might be in june. so exciting once again.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16547207-114355566279230485?l=statuesque.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://statuesque.blogspot.com/feeds/114355566279230485/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16547207&amp;postID=114355566279230485' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16547207/posts/default/114355566279230485'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16547207/posts/default/114355566279230485'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://statuesque.blogspot.com/2006/03/early-to-bed-early-to-rise-makes.html' title=''/><author><name>pulchritudinous</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01745138746361137024</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16547207.post-114329889296644591</id><published>2006-03-25T22:47:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-03-25T23:09:06.386+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>past week has been long. just long. i failed chem test again and i'm this close to giving up. had a long half an hour cry after receiving my paper. mathura spoke to me, and thank god she was there. or else i think i would have walked in to the general office to quit school. its frustrating really. when you try so hard but you still fail by a few marks. its time for a change, i need to stop learning for the sake of learning.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i can drive a car. yay! within this month it will all be over then i wouldn't have to make a trip to gombak no more. ice orientation was done this week. the guys are endangered species as usual. the girls are really nice. oh and so are the guys.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i feel bad sometimes. i don't know why i feel like the girls and i are driftin apart. its these darn A levels. you just don't have time for anything. i mean last night i was on the phone after 11 for the first time in one and a half months. now thats pathetic since that used to be my everyday affair.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;so yea life's pathetic now. i have a few laughs here and there like when kelvin makes a dumb joke or mathura's pentium half understanding ability, or nusy's scream in the canteen, or sang's really retarded magic trick, or krinesh's bullshit but yea the other parts of life now still sucks.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16547207-114329889296644591?l=statuesque.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://statuesque.blogspot.com/feeds/114329889296644591/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16547207&amp;postID=114329889296644591' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16547207/posts/default/114329889296644591'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16547207/posts/default/114329889296644591'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://statuesque.blogspot.com/2006/03/past-week-has-been-long.html' title=''/><author><name>pulchritudinous</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01745138746361137024</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16547207.post-114252494322194319</id><published>2006-03-16T23:46:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2006-03-17T00:09:46.993+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;With this, Priyanka is taking a break.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;girls are like pianos. they're not upright, they're grand.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Committee- a group of men who keep minutes and waste hours.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i'm gonna live forever, or die trying.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;beauty is in the eye of the beer holder.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;a friend is someone whose there when he needs you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i didn't fight my way to the top of the food chain to be vegetarian.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Love: two vowels. two consonents. two fools.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Some people are alive only because it is illegal to kill them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pride is what we have. Pity is what others have.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;he who laughs last thinks slowest.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lottery: a tax on people who are bad at maths.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Consciousness: that annoying time between naps.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A bank is a place where they lend you an umbrella in fair weather and ask for it back when it begins to rain.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Support bacteria. They're the only culture some people have.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was so poor growing up . if I wasn't a boy , I'd have nothing to play with.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Honolulu - it's got everything. Sand for the children, sun for the wife, sharks for the wife's mother.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sure, luck means a lot in football. Not having a good quarterback is bad luck&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16547207-114252494322194319?l=statuesque.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://statuesque.blogspot.com/feeds/114252494322194319/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16547207&amp;postID=114252494322194319' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16547207/posts/default/114252494322194319'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16547207/posts/default/114252494322194319'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://statuesque.blogspot.com/2006/03/with-this-priyanka-is-taki_114252494322194319.html' title=''/><author><name>pulchritudinous</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01745138746361137024</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16547207.post-114226402571110956</id><published>2006-03-13T23:27:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-03-13T23:33:45.726+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>JJC won 1st prize for singing! wooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo!!!&lt;br /&gt;JJC won 2nd prize for impersonation!&lt;br /&gt;booooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo!!! cos they deserve the 1st prize!&lt;br /&gt;seriously sang baby was looking so cute. she was pretending to be rajnikant. damn cute tallai! and ash baby was sooooooooo cute on stage. haiz!&lt;br /&gt;we seriously deserved 1st prize and champion trophy. but i dun blame the judges. if they were to give us 1st for impersonation then they'd have to give us challenge as well.&lt;br /&gt;all the school's did a wonderful job.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;it was nice meeting yas baby again. i've missed her. and ppl go check her out, cos the hot babe has turned hotter with her straightened hair. anyway i'm off.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16547207-114226402571110956?l=statuesque.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://statuesque.blogspot.com/feeds/114226402571110956/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16547207&amp;postID=114226402571110956' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16547207/posts/default/114226402571110956'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16547207/posts/default/114226402571110956'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://statuesque.blogspot.com/2006/03/jjc-won-1st-prize-for-singing.html' title=''/><author><name>pulchritudinous</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01745138746361137024</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16547207.post-114217168994339032</id><published>2006-03-12T21:51:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-03-12T21:54:49.960+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;One Flaw In Women&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;By the time the Lord made woman,&lt;br /&gt;He was into his sixth day of working overtime.&lt;br /&gt;An angel appeared and said,&lt;br /&gt;"Why are you spending so much time on this one?"&lt;br /&gt;And the Lord answered,&lt;br /&gt;"Have you seen my spec sheet on her?&lt;br /&gt;She has to be completely washable, but not plastic, have over 200 movable parts,&lt;br /&gt;all replaceable and able to run on diet coke and leftovers,&lt;br /&gt; have a lap that can hold four children at one time,&lt;br /&gt;have a kiss that can cure anything&lt;br /&gt;from a scraped knee to a broken heart -and she will do everything&lt;br /&gt;with only two hands."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The angel was astounded at the requirements.&lt;br /&gt;"Only two hands!? No way! And that's just on the standard model? That's too much work for one day. Wait until tomorrow to finish."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; But I won't," the Lord protested. "I am so close to finishing this creation that is so close to my own heart. She already heals herself when she is sick AND can work 18 hour days."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The angel moved closer and touched the woman. "But you have made her so soft, Lord."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"She is soft," the Lord agreed, "but I have also made her tough. You have no idea what she can endure or accomplish."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Will she be able to think?", asked the angel.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Lord replied, "Not only will she be able to think, she will be able to reason and negotiate."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The angel then noticed something, and reaching out, touched the woman's cheek. "Oops, it looks like you have a leak in this model. I told you that you were trying to put too much into this one."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"That's not a leak," the Lord corrected, "that's a tear!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; "What's the tear for?" the angel asked.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Lord said, "The tear is her way of expressing her joy, her sorrow, her pain, her disappointment, her love, her loneliness, her grief and her pride."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The angel was impressed. "You are a genius, Lord. You thought of everything! Woman is truly amazing."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And she is! Women have strengths that amaze men.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They bear hardships and they carry burdens, but they hold happiness, love and joy.&lt;br /&gt;They smile when they want to scream.&lt;br /&gt;They sing when they want to cry.&lt;br /&gt; They cry when they are happy and laugh when they are nervous.&lt;br /&gt;They fight for what they believe in.&lt;br /&gt;They stand up to injustice.&lt;br /&gt;They don't take "no" for an answer when they believe there is a better solution.&lt;br /&gt;They go without so their family can have.&lt;br /&gt; They go to the doctor with a frightened friend.&lt;br /&gt;They love unconditionally.&lt;br /&gt;They cry when their children excel and cheer when their friends get awards.&lt;br /&gt;They are happy when they hear about a birth or a wedding.&lt;br /&gt;Their hearts break when a friend dies.&lt;br /&gt; They grieve at the loss of a family member, yet they are strong when they think there is no strength left.&lt;br /&gt;They know that a hug and a kiss can heal a broken heart.&lt;br /&gt;Women come in all shapes, sizes and colors.&lt;br /&gt;They'll drive, fly, walk, run or e-mail you to show how much they care about you.&lt;br /&gt;The heart of a woman is what makes the world keep turning.&lt;br /&gt;They bring joy, hope and love.&lt;br /&gt;They have compassion and ideals.&lt;br /&gt;They give moral support to their family and friends.&lt;br /&gt;Women have vital things to say and everything to give.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;HOWEVER, IF THERE IS ONE FLAW IN WOMEN, IT IS THAT THEY FORGET THEIR WORTH.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16547207-114217168994339032?l=statuesque.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://statuesque.blogspot.com/feeds/114217168994339032/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16547207&amp;postID=114217168994339032' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16547207/posts/default/114217168994339032'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16547207/posts/default/114217168994339032'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://statuesque.blogspot.com/2006/03/one-flaw-in-women-by-time-lord-made.html' title=''/><author><name>pulchritudinous</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01745138746361137024</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16547207.post-114206545410510689</id><published>2006-03-11T16:22:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-03-11T16:25:47.050+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>You think you know me but you don't&lt;br /&gt;You have these ideas about me that are&lt;br /&gt;Left over from years and years ago&lt;br /&gt;You underestimate me&lt;br /&gt;And i'm going to surprise the hell out of you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-Love&lt;br /&gt;your body&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16547207-114206545410510689?l=statuesque.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://statuesque.blogspot.com/feeds/114206545410510689/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16547207&amp;postID=114206545410510689' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16547207/posts/default/114206545410510689'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16547207/posts/default/114206545410510689'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://statuesque.blogspot.com/2006/03/you-think-you-know-me-but-you-dont-you.html' title=''/><author><name>pulchritudinous</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01745138746361137024</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16547207.post-114192340155882215</id><published>2006-03-10T00:35:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-03-10T01:03:13.510+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>tomorrow is friday!! oh my god like finally. i'm soo so so looking forward to next week. simply cos its the long awaited holidays. and the only holidays that i can actually sleep properly in. even though for a week, it'll be appreciated. and furthermore thursday is daddy's b'dae. i'm not sure if he'll be back by then but i hope so. its about time we had family dinner. and monday going to "agni". meeting yasmin baby tt day, so pretty excited.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;just got back home a while ago. mum claims i go wild when da's not around. not true. not my fault there are shows when he's not around. anyway i went to esplanade for this cultural show. like the tickets were 32 but someone else paid and we got to go for free. it was a dance performance, bharatnatyam and odisi. i seriously learnt how to appreciate those two dances today. it has taught me to respect such forms of art. such precision, poise, grace they had. and if you have any clue about bharatnatyam you'd know that its really not easy cos a lot of balance is required. i thought i'd be bored cos i've never actually gone for such a show but one and a half hours, it was worth the trip. and furthermore we really needed the break. i'm tired of the monotonous life i've been living, tests after tests work after work. i was consistently reminded of our SYF performance. miss those days.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;munz, chitra and i went to TCC after that and had this chocolate cake called devil's chocolate or something. man i'm like a pig, a chocoholic, i'm eating chocolate like crazy. i had brownie with ice cream in the sch cafe for lunch, and had the chocolate cake for dinner. kelvin was looking at me in awe at the amount of chocolate i eat. he was like, "she has the biggest sweet tooth i've ever seen." chocolate is one thing i'm nuts about. and the chocolate ice cream in the fridge is not helpful either. its called Chocolate Obsession, and man its good. its like chocolate ice cream with chocolate swirled in and chocolate chips as well. mmmmm. and this chitra had this thing called chamomile forest, in an attempt to see if it really does make you sleepy. well she smsed me a while ago saying "i feel wide awake. stupid tea!" we were just being lame. lame lame lame. pics will be up soon.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i eat chocolate cos it makes me happy. when i eat it i tell myself " one life live it" and after i finish i tell myself " you fat blob, that was so many calories, do you wanna get a 38 inch butt or something"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and nusy's sis came for the show with nusy. lol the whole one and a half hour it was as if two twins were beside me. the two of them sound alike, behave alike, look alike, and if you know nusy you know what i mean.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and i think coffee has side effects like craziness+ lameness. cos i feel like i'm floating. and i know i'm tired but i don't feel sleepy. and i know i need to get up but i don't feel like going to school. and i love chocolate and mac. and i'm gaining weight.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16547207-114192340155882215?l=statuesque.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://statuesque.blogspot.com/feeds/114192340155882215/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16547207&amp;postID=114192340155882215' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16547207/posts/default/114192340155882215'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16547207/posts/default/114192340155882215'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://statuesque.blogspot.com/2006/03/tomorrow-is-friday-oh-my-god-like.html' title=''/><author><name>pulchritudinous</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01745138746361137024</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16547207.post-114182768074315959</id><published>2006-03-08T21:58:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-03-08T22:21:20.796+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>firstly, my apologies for writing bad stuff about people in my previous post. i can't believe i actually did what i despise some people doing, bitching about people and mentioning their names. its being bitchy and being obnoxious. being bitchy is fine, but not obnoxious, thats where lines are crossed. so yea my apologies.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;anyway, bio test, chem test, evaluation. ok bio test was screwed. i concentrated on transport in plants thinking its more hard core so they will ask more. but nooooo, they went on and on about ecology. i mean i have no idea which bacteria is responsible for nitrification. and some other crap they asked. god. chem was okay. but i think i'll border line fail. but yes i told ashy baby that if i pass my chem this time i'll buy her chocolate, cos it will be my 1st chem test that i'll actually pass. all thanks to her guidance. and evaluation was fast. i followed dad's footsteps. finished it in 12 mins. nah not that i'm smart but if anyone practices non stop for 5 continuous days on the same 250 multiple choice qns over and over again, they will defnitely do fine.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;people's stress levels are showed differently. i think mine's the most uniquely retarded one. my stress level is judged by the amount of burps i take. the more burps i take, the more stressed i am. can still remember the times i and munz used to study in school together. we used to have burping competitions. but obviously i'd win. no its not that i want to burp, it just happens. cos apparently the valves in my oesophagus are malfunctioning. and the best part about all this is the fact that its incurable. i think by the end of this year i'll probably have more of other things too, including panda eyes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;next week holidays. i'm so looking forward to it. its like finally. my long awaited holidays. holidays holidays. holidays. okay i'm tired i'm off before my bullshit starts.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16547207-114182768074315959?l=statuesque.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://statuesque.blogspot.com/feeds/114182768074315959/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16547207&amp;postID=114182768074315959' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16547207/posts/default/114182768074315959'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16547207/posts/default/114182768074315959'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://statuesque.blogspot.com/2006/03/firstly-my-apologies-for-writing-bad.html' title=''/><author><name>pulchritudinous</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01745138746361137024</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16547207.post-114166222959163005</id><published>2006-03-06T23:42:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-03-12T21:55:32.963+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>talk about stress. you seriously don't know what stress is until you enter JC. sure its stressful when you break up with the bf. or when your period comes late. or when you forgot to shave your legs and you're in a skirt. or excessive hair loss. or trying to meet a curfew. or not being able to sleep at night. or knowing the fact that you're crush will be in school and you have to look good. or getting your lies caught.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;but all these are nothing compared to waiting to a's to come. watching your seniors screw it up even though they mugged like crazy. watching yourself flunk tests after tests and getting nearer to the real exam. having tests every single week and having assignments and tutorials to complete along with them. yes. you don't know what stress is until you enter jc. look at me. i haven't looked at myself in the mirror for such a long time. no i do look at the mirror to comb my hair. i'm talking about really observing myself. and did i mention the eyebags i've developed. i mean i can actually take a ruler and measure them. okay not ruler vernier caliper maybe.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;so wednesday is a really long day for me. talk about two fucking tests on the same day. who came up with this crap. oh i know. the head of departments for both Bio and Chem decided to kill us. and considering the fact that i mugged like crap for the last chem test and screwed its cos i completely blanked due to pressure, i have to keep calm and do well for this one. and then there is drama and of course my evaluation as well. what evaluation ? i'll disclose when i pass my first test. actually i'm sure i'm going to pass it. so well i'm talking about my driving classes. yes i'm in it. fact is i only open the theory book 10 mins before going for my class. so its definitely not taking my time up. and if i do screw these tests, its def cos whole weekend i was too busy watching the cricket match as i was so not interested in knowing how water is transported in the xylem or why is it that phloem is not empty and hollow like the xylem vessel or why it has cytoplasm or what happens to an alcohol when it is reacted with H3PO3, 300 degrees celsius at 65 atm.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;so yea, i don't know how i'll manage doing well for a's considering the fact that so many of my mugging seniors got staights c's and d's. now thats screwed up cos you can't stay and you can't go. i'm trying not to stress about it. like i said i'm trying.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and Melvin is back in town. he was sounding so damn cute when i called him. i was like MELVIN MOHAR, in my all cute voice. and he was like uh, call me tomorrow please i'm sleeping. and fact is he won't remember a thing tomorrow. he's entering NS on wednesday. thats sad. but oh well he'll be out in 2 weeks.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and NS is fun. i think. it good i guess. boys come out as "men" a little more matured then they actually were when they went in. and more muscular, broad shoulders and abs. my favourite.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;let me start ranting. i want a job. i want to earn money. i don't want gp exam next week. or TCA tomorrow. i want to go shopping. i want chocolate. i don't to go to school. crap. pointless rantlings!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16547207-114166222959163005?l=statuesque.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://statuesque.blogspot.com/feeds/114166222959163005/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16547207&amp;postID=114166222959163005' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16547207/posts/default/114166222959163005'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16547207/posts/default/114166222959163005'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://statuesque.blogspot.com/2006/03/talk-about-stress.html' title=''/><author><name>pulchritudinous</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01745138746361137024</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16547207.post-114097182073524865</id><published>2006-02-26T23:57:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-02-27T00:37:00.770+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>the weekend was remarkable. met baby adwithya on friday night, he's a month old and soooo sooo soooo cute. he has big eyes and such chubby cheeks. god he's choo cute! watched bro's play on saturday night. he played the character called James, a lunatic who recovered. well it was a story based on an asylum. it wascalled Inasium which means asylum in latin. he did an awe-inspiring job. we were so proud of him.love you bro!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and today we went for the asian aerospace exhibition at changi. my good ness it was fantastic watching fighter planes perform tricks in high altitude with tremendous speed. i witnessed planes like the Boeing F-15E eagle and the Raytheon T-6B Texan 2 and the Boeing F-18E. but the best had to be the latest airbus, Airbus A380. i was left in admiration when i envisioned how each plane maneuveredin the sky like a paper aeroplane, making 4 point turns, sharp turns, flying at maximum speed, flying vertically then just ceasing speed completely for a few seconds. its times like these that you feel the passion that fighter pilots feel. i've always wondered how a person can risk his or her life just to fly a stupid plane. but today consummated i why. its a passion. being able to fly a plane in that way requires so much practise and effort. its just fun. its such a proud thing. i just can't put it in words. one has to be there to feel that feeling. but yes the exhibition was sensational.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;got back home and left again. went to Esso to get the car washed and that is where i tasted heaven. Ben &amp; Jerry's ice cream. oh my god its love at first bite. eating it feels as if every cell in your body is jumping for joy. the feeling that can only be felt when priyanka consumes warm chocolate cake from starbucks, boo boo from NYDC, double choc chip cookies from Mrs Fields, and now this. oh heavenly. when i go to heaven, i'd wish that i'd only be given these to eat, and that i don't grow fat at all from them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;also, i experienced a bollywood scene as well. was in mustafa (yes as much i hate that place on weekends cos its so crowded but hey, it gives me the opportunity to put whatever i want in the trolly), and i was searching for tea. i found it but was walking backwards so i slightly knocked into someone. we turned around and said sorry at the same time. he was a he. and boy was he hot! our eyes met for a second and we both decided to not create a scene but pretnd nothing happened. he walked away and i witnessed that the windbreaker he was wearing had Nanyang Technological University written on it. "Sweet" i thought to myself. but soon he dissappeared in the crowd. i was queuing up when i saw him again. we looked at each other countless times, but because i was with the parents, i couldn't make it obvious to him that i was hitting on him. he walked down the stairs and left, leaving his image in my mind. and fact is i'll never see him again cos i don't even know who he is. sounds like a scene from a hindi movie isn't it. i thought so.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;dil ki surkh diwaron pe&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;diwaron pe&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;naam hai tera tera&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;naam hai tera tera&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;naam hai tera tera&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;naam hai tera tera&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;in the walls of my broken heart&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;lives only your name&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;only your name&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;only your name&lt;/em&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16547207-114097182073524865?l=statuesque.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://statuesque.blogspot.com/feeds/114097182073524865/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16547207&amp;postID=114097182073524865' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16547207/posts/default/114097182073524865'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16547207/posts/default/114097182073524865'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://statuesque.blogspot.com/2006/02/weekend-was-remarkable.html' title=''/><author><name>pulchritudinous</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01745138746361137024</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16547207.post-114060491287432337</id><published>2006-02-22T18:03:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-02-22T19:03:15.613+08:00</updated><title type='text'>lalala</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7227/1573/1600/Photo-0281.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7227/1573/320/Photo-0281.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i was happily enjoying my M n Ms, and Kelvin had to put one in my water bottle. look carefully, you'll find the chocolate at the bottom and the letter 'M' which used to be imprinted on the chocolate floating on the surface.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7227/1573/1600/Photo-0283.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7227/1573/320/Photo-0283.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;so i decided to make him drink it. and he did. look at the expression on his face. he has already drunk halfway. i told him he had to consume the chocolate too.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7227/1573/1600/Photo-0284.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7227/1573/320/Photo-0284.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;yes it tasted disgusting.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7227/1573/1600/Photo-0285.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7227/1573/320/Photo-0285.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;this is nusy's V day thing. she was trying to be GP-ish, it was as usual, cute. and did i mention purple.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7227/1573/1600/Photo-0286.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7227/1573/320/Photo-0286.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7227/1573/1600/Photo-0286.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;the pretty moon early in the morning.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7227/1573/1600/Photo-0286.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7227/1573/1600/Photo-0287.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7227/1573/320/Photo-0287.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7227/1573/1600/Photo-0287.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;nusy loves her mickey. here she is giving him a kiss.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7227/1573/1600/Photo-0288.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7227/1573/320/Photo-0288.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;nusy is sitting on the chair stacked up high cos she is trying to attract attention. please note, she admitted this herself.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7227/1573/1600/Photo-0291.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7227/1573/320/Photo-0291.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;this is kelvin trying to be stupid during the break. he was trying to burst the milo pack. and no his ears are not naturally like that, he folded them in.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7227/1573/1600/Photo-0292.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7227/1573/320/Photo-0292.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;this is what we were doing duting GP. mathura signed on kelvin's paper and kel replied. attempt reading.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7227/1573/1600/Photo-0293.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7227/1573/320/Photo-0293.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;then kel made a list of girls who are charmed by him. i and mathura didn't do the same, cos we realised that a page is not enough.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7227/1573/1600/Photo-0295.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7227/1573/320/Photo-0295.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;art in the Chem lab. thats a filter paper.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7227/1573/1600/Photo-0296.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7227/1573/320/Photo-0296.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7227/1573/1600/Photo-0296.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7227/1573/1600/Photo-0289.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;thats 2,4-dinitrophenylhydrazine powder form. pretty ain't it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jc life is tough. here i have caught people sleeping as proof to how tough it is.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7227/1573/1600/Photo-0289.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7227/1573/320/Photo-0289.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7227/1573/1600/Photo-0289.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7227/1573/1600/Photo-0289.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;in thr distance kelvin is fast asleep. BIO lecture.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7227/1573/1600/Photo-0294.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7227/1573/320/Photo-0294.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and he sleeps again. Maths lecture.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7227/1573/1600/Photo-0298.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7227/1573/320/Photo-0298.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and he sleeps again. Bio lecture.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7227/1573/1600/Photo-0297.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7227/1573/320/Photo-0297.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and jasper was sleeping on the other side. i had two people sleeping on each side. it was tough keeping awake.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7227/1573/1600/Photo-0299.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7227/1573/320/Photo-0299.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7227/1573/1600/Photo-0299.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7227/1573/1600/Photo-0299.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and kevin and jasper both slept during Chem lecture.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7227/1573/1600/Photo-0300.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7227/1573/320/Photo-0300.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ashritha is sleeping. observe her pose.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7227/1573/1600/Photo-0301.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7227/1573/320/Photo-0301.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and look at how cute nirupa looks. sleeping too.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16547207-114060491287432337?l=statuesque.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://statuesque.blogspot.com/feeds/114060491287432337/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16547207&amp;postID=114060491287432337' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16547207/posts/default/114060491287432337'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16547207/posts/default/114060491287432337'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://statuesque.blogspot.com/2006/02/lalala.html' title='lalala'/><author><name>pulchritudinous</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01745138746361137024</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16547207.post-113993121376742989</id><published>2006-02-14T23:33:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-02-14T23:33:34.820+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;P&gt;&lt;FONT size=5&gt;happy valentine's day everyone!!&lt;/FONT&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;P&gt;it was nice letting everyone know i love them. the tons of chocolate and sweet things..lovely. i missed yasmin tons today! i still have her little note from last year.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;P&gt;&lt;BR&gt;&lt;IMG alt="Image hosting by Photobucket" src="http://i17.photobucket.com/albums/b92/magnificence/Photo-0266.jpg"&gt;&lt;BR&gt;thats sheena's stuff...some girls are just so lucky..her flowers were so pretty..she got me choc and a little note..so sweet.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;P&gt;&lt;BR&gt;&lt;IMG alt="Image hosting by Photobucket" src="http://i17.photobucket.com/albums/b92/magnificence/Photo-0267.jpg"&gt;&lt;BR&gt;thats her blue roses, so pretty right.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;P&gt;&lt;BR&gt;&lt;IMG alt="Image hosting by Photobucket" src="http://i17.photobucket.com/albums/b92/magnificence/Photo-0268.jpg"&gt;&lt;BR&gt;this is tahira's goodie bag, the stuff&amp;nbsp;she got..&lt;/P&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;P&gt;&lt;BR&gt;&lt;IMG alt="Image hosting by Photobucket" src="http://i17.photobucket.com/albums/b92/magnificence/Photo-0269.jpg"&gt;&lt;BR&gt;the prettiest box in her goody bag,&lt;/P&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;P&gt;&lt;BR&gt;&lt;IMG alt="Image hosting by Photobucket" src="http://i17.photobucket.com/albums/b92/magnificence/Photo-0270.jpg"&gt;&lt;BR&gt;the heart shape thing su gave them, so cute and sweet. su is too sweet to be butch. but i simply love her la.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;P&gt;&lt;BR&gt;&lt;IMG alt="Image hosting by Photobucket" src="http://i17.photobucket.com/albums/b92/magnificence/Photo-0271.jpg"&gt;&lt;BR&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;P&gt;i like the card, read the caption.&lt;BR&gt;&lt;IMG alt="Image hosting by Photobucket" src="http://i17.photobucket.com/albums/b92/magnificence/Photo-0272.jpg"&gt;&lt;BR&gt;thats whats inside...really made me laugh..&lt;/P&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;P&gt;&lt;IMG alt="Image hosting by Photobucket" src="http://i17.photobucket.com/albums/b92/magnificence/Photo-0273.jpg"&gt;&lt;BR&gt;my stuff...took a picture before eating them.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;P&gt;&lt;BR&gt;&lt;IMG alt="Image hosting by Photobucket" src="http://i17.photobucket.com/albums/b92/magnificence/Photo-0274.jpg"&gt;&lt;BR&gt;thats a filter paper. thats what me and mathura did during chemistry. we wrote each other stuff on filter ppr.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;P&gt;&lt;BR&gt;&lt;IMG alt="Image hosting by Photobucket" src="http://i17.photobucket.com/albums/b92/magnificence/Photo-0275.jpg"&gt;&lt;BR&gt;su's hand baked cookie..it was sooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo good.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;P&gt;&lt;BR&gt;&lt;IMG alt="Image hosting by Photobucket" src="http://i17.photobucket.com/albums/b92/magnificence/Photo-0276.jpg"&gt;&lt;BR&gt;my chem experiment, thats benzoic acid crystals.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;P&gt;&lt;BR&gt;&lt;IMG alt="Image hosting by Photobucket" src="http://i17.photobucket.com/albums/b92/magnificence/Photo-0277.jpg"&gt;&lt;BR&gt;the after math in 2 mins. it was just so good.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;P&gt;&lt;BR&gt;&lt;IMG alt="Image hosting by Photobucket" src="http://i17.photobucket.com/albums/b92/magnificence/Photo-0280.jpg"&gt;&lt;BR&gt;munz took this pic, its like a drawin of me and her, on the table, studying.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;P&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;P&gt;tomorrow chem test so i and her have been mugging in the libraru past two days. actually been really enjoying it. the best part of today was the fact that dad came home, gave mom a rose and said i love you...aww! how sweet! and i made a bet with munz i'll be single till next year, maybe even after that. she thinks i'll lose this bet by this year.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16547207-113993121376742989?l=statuesque.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://statuesque.blogspot.com/feeds/113993121376742989/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16547207&amp;postID=113993121376742989' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16547207/posts/default/113993121376742989'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16547207/posts/default/113993121376742989'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://statuesque.blogspot.com/2006/02/happy-valentines-day-everyone-it-was.html' title=''/><author><name>pulchritudinous</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01745138746361137024</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16547207.post-113949340348451185</id><published>2006-02-09T21:29:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-02-09T21:56:43.793+08:00</updated><title type='text'>bla bla</title><content type='html'>being a woman is worse than being a farmer- there is so much harvesting and crop spraying to be done: legs waxed, underarms shaved, eyeborws plucked, feet pumiced, skin exfoliated and moisturized, spots cleansed, roots dyed, eyelashes tinted, nails filed, cellulite massaged, stomach muscles exercised. the whole performance is so highly tuned you only need to neglect it for a few days for the whole thing to go seed. sometimes i wonder what a woman would be like if left to revert to nature-with a full Healey eyebrows, face a graveyard of dead  skin cells, spots erupting, long curly nails like Struwelpeter, blind as a bat and stupid runt of species as no contact lenses, flabby body flobbering around.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;                                                                                              -helen fielding&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i can still recall myself 10 years ago. hair tied in to pony tails on each side of the head, looking like a wannabe dog with ears on the side of my head. skirt worn really high with socks worn up to the knees, as if i was trying for the school's nerdy's football team. and did i mention i had those round glasses made of plastic which covered half of my face. eyebrows so thick an ant would be lost in it. need i say more.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;now times have changed and so have i. i'm sure everyone has had embarassing moments in their life. i know i have tons. take for example the time i was walking down town, when my eyes settled on this really hot thing. trying to act hot myself i walked towards him in a model like manner, only have my heels break and me on the floor. should have seen the expression on his face. what about the time i went to town after racial harmony day clad in a saree. talk about embarassment i looked like i jus came from india. every living soul there was staring at me. can't recall anymore, but yea, thats that.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16547207-113949340348451185?l=statuesque.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://statuesque.blogspot.com/feeds/113949340348451185/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16547207&amp;postID=113949340348451185' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16547207/posts/default/113949340348451185'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16547207/posts/default/113949340348451185'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://statuesque.blogspot.com/2006/02/bla-bla.html' title='bla bla'/><author><name>pulchritudinous</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01745138746361137024</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16547207.post-113940292278522213</id><published>2006-02-08T20:47:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-02-08T20:48:42.806+08:00</updated><title type='text'>the little convo</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:85%;color:#545454;"&gt;&lt;p&gt;(nusy) away from mickey says:&lt;/p&gt;&lt;dir&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/dir&gt;&lt;dir&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Fixedsys;font-size:85%;color:#800000;"&gt;&lt;p&gt;excuse me fellow jjcian&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/dir&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;color:#545454;"&gt;&lt;p&gt;(nusy) away from mickey says:&lt;/p&gt;&lt;dir&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/dir&gt;&lt;dir&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Fixedsys;font-size:85%;color:#800000;"&gt;&lt;p&gt;why r u selling funorama tix???&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/dir&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;color:#545454;"&gt;&lt;p&gt;ACJC FUN-O-RAMA TICKETS!! ANYONE WANNA BUY?? says:&lt;/p&gt;&lt;dir&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/dir&gt;&lt;dir&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;p&gt;lol...my fren is really desperate&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/dir&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;color:#545454;"&gt;&lt;p&gt;ACJC FUN-O-RAMA TICKETS!! ANYONE WANNA BUY?? says:&lt;/p&gt;&lt;dir&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/dir&gt;&lt;dir&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;p&gt;i have no choice but to help her&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/dir&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;color:#545454;"&gt;&lt;p&gt;(nusy) away from mickey says:&lt;/p&gt;&lt;dir&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/dir&gt;&lt;dir&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Fixedsys;font-size:85%;color:#800000;"&gt;&lt;p&gt;sure. say watever u want. i m not falling for ur lies again!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/dir&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;color:#545454;"&gt;&lt;p&gt;(nusy) away from mickey says:&lt;/p&gt;&lt;dir&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/dir&gt;&lt;dir&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Fixedsys;font-size:85%;color:#800000;"&gt;&lt;p&gt;it's over k&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/dir&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;color:#545454;"&gt;&lt;p&gt;(nusy) away from mickey says:&lt;/p&gt;&lt;dir&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/dir&gt;&lt;dir&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Fixedsys;font-size:85%;color:#800000;"&gt;&lt;p&gt;glad to have loved than to never at all&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/dir&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;color:#545454;"&gt;&lt;p&gt;(nusy) away from mickey says:&lt;/p&gt;&lt;dir&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/dir&gt;&lt;dir&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Fixedsys;font-size:85%;color:#800000;"&gt;&lt;p&gt;peace my fren..........&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/dir&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;color:#545454;"&gt;&lt;p&gt;ACJC FUN-O-RAMA TICKETS!! ANYONE WANNA BUY?? says:&lt;/p&gt;&lt;dir&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/dir&gt;&lt;dir&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;p&gt;nusy wht are u talkin about?&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/dir&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;color:#545454;"&gt;&lt;p&gt;(nusy) away from mickey says:&lt;/p&gt;&lt;dir&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/dir&gt;&lt;dir&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Fixedsys;font-size:85%;color:#800000;"&gt;&lt;p&gt;rubbish&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/dir&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;color:#545454;"&gt;&lt;p&gt;ACJC FUN-O-RAMA TICKETS!! ANYONE WANNA BUY?? says:&lt;/p&gt;&lt;dir&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/dir&gt;&lt;dir&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;p&gt;lol as usual&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/dir&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;color:#545454;"&gt;&lt;p&gt;(nusy) away from mickey says:&lt;/p&gt;&lt;dir&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/dir&gt;&lt;dir&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Fixedsys;font-size:85%;color:#800000;"&gt;&lt;p&gt;i have always wanted to tell tt to some guy........but no dick bearing specimen is daring enuf for tt&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/dir&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;color:#545454;"&gt;&lt;p&gt;(nusy) away from mickey says:&lt;/p&gt;&lt;dir&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/dir&gt;&lt;dir&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Fixedsys;font-size:85%;color:#800000;"&gt;&lt;p&gt;so u were my only soln&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/dir&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;color:#545454;"&gt;&lt;p&gt;ACJC FUN-O-RAMA TICKETS!! ANYONE WANNA BUY?? says:&lt;/p&gt;&lt;dir&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/dir&gt;&lt;dir&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;p&gt;oh well..even tho i dun have a dick shall reply to it..&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/dir&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;color:#545454;"&gt;&lt;p&gt;ACJC FUN-O-RAMA TICKETS!! ANYONE WANNA BUY?? says:&lt;/p&gt;&lt;dir&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/dir&gt;&lt;dir&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;p&gt;no don't go without you my nights are dark and mornings are dark too&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/dir&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;color:#545454;"&gt;&lt;p&gt;(nusy) away from mickey says:&lt;/p&gt;&lt;dir&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/dir&gt;&lt;dir&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Fixedsys;font-size:85%;color:#800000;"&gt;&lt;p&gt;how macho!!! &lt;/p&gt;&lt;/dir&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;color:#545454;"&gt;&lt;p&gt;ACJC FUN-O-RAMA TICKETS!! ANYONE WANNA BUY?? says:&lt;/p&gt;&lt;dir&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/dir&gt;&lt;dir&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;p&gt;lol&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/dir&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;color:#545454;"&gt;&lt;p&gt;ACJC FUN-O-RAMA TICKETS!! ANYONE WANNA BUY?? says:&lt;/p&gt;&lt;dir&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/dir&gt;&lt;dir&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;p&gt;if only men were actually what we want them to be &lt;/p&gt;&lt;/dir&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;color:#545454;"&gt;&lt;p&gt;(nusy) away from mickey says:&lt;/p&gt;&lt;dir&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/dir&gt;&lt;dir&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Fixedsys;font-size:85%;color:#800000;"&gt;&lt;p&gt;then they'll be girls aka perfect&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/dir&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;color:#545454;"&gt;&lt;p&gt;ACJC FUN-O-RAMA TICKETS!! ANYONE WANNA BUY?? says:&lt;/p&gt;&lt;dir&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/dir&gt;&lt;dir&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;p&gt;yea true enuf&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/dir&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16547207-113940292278522213?l=statuesque.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://statuesque.blogspot.com/feeds/113940292278522213/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16547207&amp;postID=113940292278522213' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16547207/posts/default/113940292278522213'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16547207/posts/default/113940292278522213'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://statuesque.blogspot.com/2006/02/little-convo.html' title='the little convo'/><author><name>pulchritudinous</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01745138746361137024</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16547207.post-113939840853978664</id><published>2006-02-08T19:33:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-02-08T19:33:28.686+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;P&gt;thank god prelims are in sept. this means i can attend my cousin's wedding. its going to be tons of stress. i'm so already feeling it. my trip has caused lots of piled up work such as tutorial and assignment 19, 20 and 21 and then there is chem test next week and then bio notes to read. had intentions of staying in school today but was just to tired. got in drama. as much as i wanted the queen's role its good i just&amp;nbsp;got&amp;nbsp;a small part cos then it would be very little time consuming and the only reason why i'm even doing this is for the name sake.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;P&gt;just a few pics from the reception to complete my little trip to india. &lt;BR&gt;&lt;IMG alt="Image hosting by Photobucket" src="http://i17.photobucket.com/albums/b92/magnificence/fampic.jpg"&gt;&lt;BR&gt;the family pic with the couple. bro wasn't there cos he returned early, back to kolkata to get back to s'pore by wed.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;P&gt;&lt;BR&gt;&lt;IMG alt="Image hosting by Photobucket" src="http://i17.photobucket.com/albums/b92/magnificence/0027.jpg"&gt;&lt;BR&gt;the really tall man eating "gol gappa", my favourite indian snack. &lt;/P&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;P&gt;&lt;BR&gt;&lt;IMG alt="Image hosting by Photobucket" src="http://i17.photobucket.com/albums/b92/magnificence/0025.jpg"&gt;&lt;BR&gt;see the height difference. know what i'm talking about when i say really tall.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;P&gt;&lt;BR&gt;&lt;IMG alt="Image hosting by Photobucket" src="http://i17.photobucket.com/albums/b92/magnificence/0024.jpg"&gt;&lt;BR&gt;the kids were so cute. they got her balloons and roses.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;P&gt;reception was nice too. but i had to say goodbye to a few people. the next day was worst cos i had to say goodbye to everyone. i really hate this about life. i hate goodbyes.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16547207-113939840853978664?l=statuesque.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://statuesque.blogspot.com/feeds/113939840853978664/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16547207&amp;postID=113939840853978664' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16547207/posts/default/113939840853978664'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16547207/posts/default/113939840853978664'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://statuesque.blogspot.com/2006/02/thank-god-prelims-are-in-sept.html' title=''/><author><name>pulchritudinous</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01745138746361137024</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16547207.post-113916320675641294</id><published>2006-02-06T02:13:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-02-06T02:20:11.843+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;24th jan to 2nd feb, the best days of my year. my trip to india after two long years. it was like a dream. a long dream. my four hours in the plane was dreadful. i was so excited i wanted to be there asap. when i got to the airport and heard my cousin scream my name i ran to her and embraced. boy was i happy. it was so nice meeting everyone again. i missed everyone heaps. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img alt="Image hosting by Photobucket" src="http://i17.photobucket.com/albums/b92/magnificence/IMG_1789.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;the pretty bird's eye view.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img alt="Image hosting by Photobucket" src="http://i17.photobucket.com/albums/b92/magnificence/Photo-0237.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;my handsome cousin and he's only 16.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img alt="Image hosting by Photobucket" src="http://i17.photobucket.com/albums/b92/magnificence/Photo-0239.jpg" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;my cute baby cousin the youngest in the house, look at him eatin the bag of chips.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img alt="Image hosting by Photobucket" src="http://i17.photobucket.com/albums/b92/magnificence/Photo-0240.jpg" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;a closer look, he looks just like his father.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img alt="Image hosting by Photobucket" src="http://i17.photobucket.com/albums/b92/magnificence/Photo-0241.jpg" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;my sweet cousin sweety.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img alt="Image hosting by Photobucket" src="http://i17.photobucket.com/albums/b92/magnificence/Photo-0244.jpg" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;yup, talk and not dark but handsome.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img alt="Image hosting by Photobucket" src="http://i17.photobucket.com/albums/b92/magnificence/Photo-0249.jpg" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; my cute grandma. i love to pinch her cheeks.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img alt="Image hosting by Photobucket" src="http://i17.photobucket.com/albums/b92/magnificence/Photo-0252.jpg" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;when she's sleeping.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img alt="Image hosting by Photobucket" src="http://i17.photobucket.com/albums/b92/magnificence/IMG_1792.jpg" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;i love em all. on the left my cousin sis, my uncle's daughter. she's two years older. next is sweety, my aunt's daughter. and in my arms is my youngest aunt's daughter. the cutest girl in the house.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;then i went to jamshedpur for a punjabi wedding. my dad's real close friend's daughter's wedding. we stayed in a lodge.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img alt="Image hosting by Photobucket" src="http://i17.photobucket.com/albums/b92/magnificence/IMG_1793.jpg" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;the boys played carrom while the henna ceremony took place.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img alt="Image hosting by Photobucket" src="http://i17.photobucket.com/albums/b92/magnificence/IMG_1794.jpg" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;the girls were busy with henna, even i was.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img alt="Image hosting by Photobucket" src="http://i17.photobucket.com/albums/b92/magnificence/IMG_1797.jpg" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;look at her hands, thats so maximum lenght. she slept at three that night.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img alt="Image hosting by Photobucket" src="http://i17.photobucket.com/albums/b92/magnificence/IMG_1799.jpg" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; then the boys began dancing. look at the smiles.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img alt="Image hosting by Photobucket" src="http://i17.photobucket.com/albums/b92/magnificence/IMG_1805.jpg" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;thats bhabhi, that means sister in law. dancing the night away.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img alt="Image hosting by Photobucket" src="http://i17.photobucket.com/albums/b92/magnificence/IMG_1809.jpg" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;the day before the wedding. on the extreme left is the bride's father. he's my dad's close friend.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img alt="Image hosting by Photobucket" src="http://i17.photobucket.com/albums/b92/magnificence/IMG_1811.jpg" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;another pic, where i look like i'm gonna fall asleep.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img alt="Image hosting by Photobucket" src="http://i17.photobucket.com/albums/b92/magnificence/IMG_1813.jpg" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;mom and the bride's mom.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img alt="Image hosting by Photobucket" src="http://i17.photobucket.com/albums/b92/magnificence/IMG_1815.jpg" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;the girls. look at how pretty her henna design is. it took hours.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img alt="Image hosting by Photobucket" src="http://i17.photobucket.com/albums/b92/magnificence/IMG_1817.jpg" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;dad and mom with dad's friend, his wife and son.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img alt="Image hosting by Photobucket" src="http://i17.photobucket.com/albums/b92/magnificence/IMG_1818.jpg" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;then in the evening the chuda ceremony took place. this is where the bride's mom's brother will put on bangles on the bride's hands. here they are waiting for the bride to come.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16547207-113916320675641294?l=statuesque.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://statuesque.blogspot.com/feeds/113916320675641294/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16547207&amp;postID=113916320675641294' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16547207/posts/default/113916320675641294'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16547207/posts/default/113916320675641294'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://statuesque.blogspot.com/2006/02/24th-jan-to-2nd-feb-best-days-of-my.html' title=''/><author><name>pulchritudinous</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01745138746361137024</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16547207.post-113916128390184177</id><published>2006-02-06T01:41:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-02-06T01:41:23.930+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;P&gt;&lt;BR&gt;&lt;IMG alt="Image hosting by Photobucket" src="http://i17.photobucket.com/albums/b92/magnificence/IMG_1822.jpg"&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;P&gt;now that the bride has arrived, they're ready for the ceremony. yup she's happy.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;P&gt;&lt;BR&gt;&lt;BR&gt;&lt;IMG alt="Image hosting by Photobucket" src="http://i17.photobucket.com/albums/b92/magnificence/IMG_1827.jpg"&gt;&lt;BR&gt;here he is, first he has to dip the bangles in milk then put it on the bride's hands.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;P&gt;&lt;BR&gt;&lt;IMG alt="Image hosting by Photobucket" src="http://i17.photobucket.com/albums/b92/magnificence/IMG_1829.jpg"&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;P&gt;yup on both hands. observe the henna on her hands, so pretty.&lt;BR&gt;&lt;BR&gt;&lt;IMG alt="Image hosting by Photobucket" src="http://i17.photobucket.com/albums/b92/magnificence/IMG_1836.jpg"&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;P&gt;the things dangling from her bangles are made from coconut shells, and are decorated as you can see. its also like a custom. she can take them off for the night but she will wear the bangles. and then on the wedding day she has to put them back on.&lt;BR&gt;&lt;BR&gt;&lt;IMG alt="Image hosting by Photobucket" src="http://i17.photobucket.com/albums/b92/magnificence/IMG_1840.jpg"&gt;&lt;BR&gt;here she is trying to convince her cousin not to feed her sweets. its a custom in india, at the end of a happy ceremony or to congratulate you're suppose to sweeten your mouth, by sweets of course.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;P&gt;&lt;BR&gt;&lt;IMG alt="Image hosting by Photobucket" src="http://i17.photobucket.com/albums/b92/magnificence/IMG_1841.jpg"&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;P&gt;no one listened and she was fed tons of sweets. poor thing, i observed how much she had had enough of the sweets. but she was still fed.&lt;BR&gt;&lt;BR&gt;&lt;IMG alt="Image hosting by Photobucket" src="http://i17.photobucket.com/albums/b92/magnificence/IMG_1850.jpg"&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;P&gt;she was the cutest in the house. her name's manmeet.&lt;BR&gt;&lt;BR&gt;&lt;IMG alt="Image hosting by Photobucket" src="http://i17.photobucket.com/albums/b92/magnificence/IMG_1853.jpg"&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;P&gt;observe her hands, the amount of coconuts hanging on her bangles. they were posing for a pic.&lt;BR&gt;&lt;BR&gt;&lt;IMG alt="Image hosting by Photobucket" src="http://i17.photobucket.com/albums/b92/magnificence/IMG_1856.jpg"&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;P&gt;she had to drink milk to end off the ceremony.&lt;BR&gt;&lt;BR&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;P&gt;&lt;IMG alt="Image hosting by Photobucket" src="http://i17.photobucket.com/albums/b92/magnificence/IMG_1861.jpg"&gt;&lt;BR&gt;i found her the preetiest in the house. her eye color was so nice. thats her and her brother. her brother is so cute, he has to wear this huge glasses. and he's so smart. and did i mention cute.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;P&gt;&lt;IMG alt="Image hosting by Photobucket" src="http://i17.photobucket.com/albums/b92/magnificence/IMG_1864.jpg"&gt;&lt;BR&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;P&gt;the jago ceremony where they have to carry that thing on their heads and celebrate on the streets. everyone's dancing and enjoying themselves.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;P&gt;&lt;BR&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;P&gt;&lt;IMG alt="Image hosting by Photobucket" src="http://i17.photobucket.com/albums/b92/magnificence/IMG_1867.jpg"&gt;&lt;BR&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;P&gt;the bride's dancing too. everyone's happy.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;P&gt;&lt;BR&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;P&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;P&gt;&lt;IMG alt="Image hosting by Photobucket" src="http://i17.photobucket.com/albums/b92/magnificence/IMG_1871.jpg"&gt;&lt;BR&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;P&gt;we were dancing at home too, the one in the red sweater is me. yes i was forced into punjabi dancng too. it ws fun though embarassing.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;P&gt;&lt;BR&gt;&lt;IMG alt="Image hosting by Photobucket" src="http://i17.photobucket.com/albums/b92/magnificence/IMG_1881.jpg"&gt;&lt;BR&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;P&gt;look at the croud, at the wedding.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;P&gt;&lt;BR&gt;&lt;IMG alt="Image hosting by Photobucket" src="http://i17.photobucket.com/albums/b92/magnificence/IMG_1885.jpg"&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;P&gt;the older generation. i have no idea whose who.&lt;BR&gt;&lt;BR&gt;&lt;IMG alt="Image hosting by Photobucket" src="http://i17.photobucket.com/albums/b92/magnificence/IMG_1887.jpg"&gt;&lt;BR&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;P&gt;me, mom and the grandma, the bride's grandma. thats my cousin's ghagra, pretty huh. will get mine sewn soon.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;P&gt;&lt;BR&gt;&lt;IMG alt="Image hosting by Photobucket" src="http://i17.photobucket.com/albums/b92/magnificence/IMG_1886.jpg"&gt;&lt;BR&gt;my side view?..more like my mum was tellin me to see what i've torn at the back.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;P&gt;&lt;BR&gt;&lt;IMG alt="Image hosting by Photobucket" src="http://i17.photobucket.com/albums/b92/magnificence/IMG_1889.jpg"&gt;&lt;BR&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;P&gt;the bride and the groom.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;P&gt;&lt;BR&gt;&lt;IMG alt="Image hosting by Photobucket" src="http://i17.photobucket.com/albums/b92/magnificence/IMG_1894.jpg"&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;P&gt;feeding the groom. the guy beside the bride is the brother.&lt;BR&gt;&lt;BR&gt;&lt;IMG alt="Image hosting by Photobucket" src="http://i17.photobucket.com/albums/b92/magnificence/IMG_1904.jpg"&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;P&gt;i spoiled the family pic by looking at the side.&lt;BR&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16547207-113916128390184177?l=statuesque.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://statuesque.blogspot.com/feeds/113916128390184177/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16547207&amp;postID=113916128390184177' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16547207/posts/default/113916128390184177'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16547207/posts/default/113916128390184177'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://statuesque.blogspot.com/2006/02/now-that-bride-has-arrived-theyre.html' title=''/><author><name>pulchritudinous</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01745138746361137024</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16547207.post-113915931343641914</id><published>2006-02-06T01:08:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-02-06T01:08:33.480+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;P&gt;&lt;BR&gt;&lt;IMG alt="Image hosting by Photobucket" src="http://i17.photobucket.com/albums/b92/magnificence/IMG_1899.jpg"&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;P&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;P&gt;my pic with the couple. reception pics still remain. haven't uploaded them yet. will soon.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;P&gt;i must say i had a fab time in india. can't wait to go back. will be in may till july. cousin's wedding on the 2nd of july.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;P&gt;my trip there this time taught me a lot of things, like the fact that i'm gonna get married soon. haha no seriously, all the older women there were askin my dad when he's getting me married. oh my god no way, not until my mid twenties. but yea letting my dad find someone for me is so much more peaceful. like my cousin, the guy she's getting married to is fab, yea its arranged but now they are callin each orther everyday and falling in love too. and he's such a nice guy, the day before i left he spoke to me and told me to take care and whatever not. i wish them all the best definitely. my trip there has definitely made my decision to stay single stronger. oh well.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;P&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;P&gt;i have to work real real hard till may since my excitement will bringmy studies down the drain. anyway tomorrow my return to school. work's piled up..&lt;BR&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16547207-113915931343641914?l=statuesque.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://statuesque.blogspot.com/feeds/113915931343641914/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16547207&amp;postID=113915931343641914' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16547207/posts/default/113915931343641914'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16547207/posts/default/113915931343641914'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://statuesque.blogspot.com/2006/02/i-have-to-work-real-real-hard-till-may.html' title=''/><author><name>pulchritudinous</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01745138746361137024</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16547207.post-113800885780425244</id><published>2006-01-23T17:34:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-01-23T17:34:17.816+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;P&gt;SAJC competition day. friday 20th of january.&lt;BR&gt;&lt;IMG alt="Image hosting by Photobucket" src="http://i17.photobucket.com/albums/b92/magnificence/Photo-0225.jpg"&gt;&lt;BR&gt;it all started with a game oh GUESS WHO. no it was just a a game nusy and nirupa were playing during the break.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;P&gt;&lt;BR&gt;&lt;IMG alt="Image hosting by Photobucket" src="http://i17.photobucket.com/albums/b92/magnificence/Photo-0226.jpg"&gt;&lt;BR&gt;and then nirupa started doing what she's obsessed with doing, taking pics of herself.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;P&gt;&lt;BR&gt;&lt;IMG alt="Image hosting by Photobucket" src="http://i17.photobucket.com/albums/b92/magnificence/Photo-0227.jpg"&gt;&lt;BR&gt;this one in sajc.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;P&gt;&lt;BR&gt;&lt;IMG alt="Image hosting by Photobucket" src="http://i17.photobucket.com/albums/b92/magnificence/Photo-0228.jpg"&gt;&lt;BR&gt;yes laugh all you want, sajc too.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;P&gt;&lt;BR&gt;&lt;IMG alt="Image hosting by Photobucket" src="http://i17.photobucket.com/albums/b92/magnificence/Photo-0229.jpg"&gt;&lt;BR&gt;the pretty drum thing which munz baby played pretty well.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;P&gt;&lt;BR&gt;&lt;IMG alt="Image hosting by Photobucket" src="http://i17.photobucket.com/albums/b92/magnificence/Photo-0230.jpg"&gt;&lt;BR&gt;thats nusy, the props came from the drama group.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;P&gt;&lt;BR&gt;&lt;IMG alt="Image hosting by Photobucket" src="http://i17.photobucket.com/albums/b92/magnificence/Photo-0231.jpg"&gt;&lt;BR&gt;the three wannabes. what the hell, look at nusy on the left.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;P&gt;&lt;BR&gt;&lt;IMG alt="Image hosting by Photobucket" src="http://i17.photobucket.com/albums/b92/magnificence/Photo-0232.jpg"&gt;&lt;BR&gt;yea they wanted a pic in colour too,&lt;/P&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;P&gt;&lt;BR&gt;&lt;IMG alt="Image hosting by Photobucket" src="http://i17.photobucket.com/albums/b92/magnificence/Photo-0233.jpg"&gt;&lt;BR&gt;ok la i also decided to take a pic. my shirt makes me look fat!&lt;/P&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;P&gt;oh well we only got in for solo singing, but yea this year's competition was tough. and yes i'm leaving tomorrow evening. i'll miss everyone. i fought with a friend and i'm completely unhappy. i hope things are good before i leave. considering the fact that i only have tomorrow to fix things, i'm so running out of time. and yes i auditioned for SYF and i got in. i hope i can manage it all. &lt;/P&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16547207-113800885780425244?l=statuesque.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://statuesque.blogspot.com/feeds/113800885780425244/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16547207&amp;postID=113800885780425244' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16547207/posts/default/113800885780425244'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16547207/posts/default/113800885780425244'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://statuesque.blogspot.com/2006/01/sajc-competition-day.html' title=''/><author><name>pulchritudinous</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01745138746361137024</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16547207.post-113786295824607180</id><published>2006-01-22T00:55:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-01-22T01:02:38.260+08:00</updated><title type='text'>today</title><content type='html'>was out the whole day. shit! i have so much of work to do and it all has to be done by tomorrow. i'm leaving on tuesday. its confirmed. i'll prolly go to school on tuesday just to get my attendance marked and for bio lecture. flight is in the evening. i'm excited, at the same time dreading returning. this tiem i'm gonna go there and completely leave whatever i've lived here to far behind. i need a change in environment and thats what i'll get.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and i'm so pissed off as well. some people just never learn. i don't understand how some people can like someone one day and like another another day. okay whatever i'm random. and for the record, no i'm not referring to keshy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;anyway i finally had my facial. and i look sparkly! yay!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;you and i are through. i know it. &lt;/em&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16547207-113786295824607180?l=statuesque.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://statuesque.blogspot.com/feeds/113786295824607180/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16547207&amp;postID=113786295824607180' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16547207/posts/default/113786295824607180'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16547207/posts/default/113786295824607180'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://statuesque.blogspot.com/2006/01/today.html' title='today'/><author><name>pulchritudinous</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01745138746361137024</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16547207.post-113785446699042426</id><published>2006-01-21T22:41:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-01-21T22:41:07.000+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;P&gt;dad returned and i got the opportunity to blog my pics. these are pics of events of a few days. oh well, i see color on my blog again. &lt;/P&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;P&gt;&lt;BR&gt;&lt;IMG alt="Image hosting by Photobucket" src="http://i17.photobucket.com/albums/b92/magnificence/Photo-0172.jpg"&gt;&lt;BR&gt;new years day, outing MOS.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;P&gt;&lt;BR&gt;&lt;IMG alt="Image hosting by Photobucket" src="http://i17.photobucket.com/albums/b92/magnificence/Photo-0176.jpg"&gt;&lt;BR&gt;my favourite pair, nusy was trying to kiss nirupa.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;P&gt;&lt;BR&gt;&lt;IMG alt="Image hosting by Photobucket" src="http://i17.photobucket.com/albums/b92/magnificence/Photo-0177.jpg"&gt;&lt;BR&gt;and then they decided to take a pretty pic together.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;P&gt;&lt;BR&gt;&lt;IMG alt="Image hosting by Photobucket" src="http://i17.photobucket.com/albums/b92/magnificence/Photo-0179.jpg"&gt;&lt;BR&gt;thats my dear Krinesh, having his fourth meal. 2 am, mc donalds. outside lido.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;P&gt;&lt;BR&gt;&lt;IMG alt="Image hosting by Photobucket" src="http://i17.photobucket.com/albums/b92/magnificence/Photo-0181.jpg"&gt;&lt;BR&gt;and then there is the successful ICS orientation. the yr one guys. &lt;/P&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;P&gt;&lt;BR&gt;&lt;IMG alt="Image hosting by Photobucket" src="http://i17.photobucket.com/albums/b92/magnificence/Photo-0183.jpg"&gt;&lt;BR&gt;thats anisa, mathani and vaishnavi.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;P&gt;&lt;BR&gt;&lt;IMG alt="Image hosting by Photobucket" src="http://i17.photobucket.com/albums/b92/magnificence/Photo-0184.jpg"&gt;&lt;BR&gt;thats another group.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;P&gt;&lt;BR&gt;&lt;IMG alt="Image hosting by Photobucket" src="http://i17.photobucket.com/albums/b92/magnificence/Photo-0185.jpg"&gt;&lt;BR&gt;and another.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;P&gt;&lt;BR&gt;&lt;IMG alt="Image hosting by Photobucket" src="http://i17.photobucket.com/albums/b92/magnificence/Photo-0186.jpg"&gt;&lt;BR&gt;and another. the guy on the left reminds us of saravanan.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;P&gt;&lt;BR&gt;&lt;IMG alt="Image hosting by Photobucket" src="http://i17.photobucket.com/albums/b92/magnificence/Photo-0187.jpg"&gt;&lt;BR&gt;the wonderful JC two girls.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;P&gt;&lt;BR&gt;&lt;IMG alt="Image hosting by Photobucket" src="http://i17.photobucket.com/albums/b92/magnificence/Photo-0188.jpg"&gt;&lt;BR&gt;thats muneera on a chair, look at the way su is holding her.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;P&gt;&lt;BR&gt;&lt;IMG alt="Image hosting by Photobucket" src="http://i17.photobucket.com/albums/b92/magnificence/Photo-0189.jpg"&gt;&lt;BR&gt;yea yea as much i want su, she wants munz.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;P&gt;&lt;BR&gt;&lt;IMG alt="Image hosting by Photobucket" src="http://i17.photobucket.com/albums/b92/magnificence/Photo-0190.jpg"&gt;&lt;BR&gt;this is my dear sang trying to act serious.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;P&gt;&lt;BR&gt;&lt;IMG alt="Image hosting by Photobucket" src="http://i17.photobucket.com/albums/b92/magnificence/Photo-0191.jpg"&gt;&lt;BR&gt;su and nusy, su loves to take this kind of pics wit her.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;P&gt;&lt;BR&gt;&lt;IMG alt="Image hosting by Photobucket" src="http://i17.photobucket.com/albums/b92/magnificence/Photo-0192.jpg"&gt;&lt;BR&gt;this pic was blur so i tried to take another one.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;P&gt;&lt;BR&gt;&lt;IMG alt="Image hosting by Photobucket" src="http://i17.photobucket.com/albums/b92/magnificence/Photo-0193.jpg"&gt;&lt;BR&gt;and then munz decided to blink and nusy decided to move.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;P&gt;&lt;BR&gt;&lt;IMG alt="Image hosting by Photobucket" src="http://i17.photobucket.com/albums/b92/magnificence/Photo-0194.jpg"&gt;&lt;BR&gt;muneera's hair is being pulled cos she tried to spoil the pic.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;P&gt;&lt;IMG alt="Image hosting by Photobucket" src="http://i17.photobucket.com/albums/b92/magnificence/Photo-0195.jpg"&gt;&lt;BR&gt;finally, a proper pic.&lt;BR&gt;&lt;BR&gt;&lt;IMG alt="Image hosting by Photobucket" src="http://i17.photobucket.com/albums/b92/magnificence/Photo-0197.jpg"&gt;&lt;BR&gt;their performance, taken over sang's shoulders.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;P&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16547207-113785446699042426?l=statuesque.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://statuesque.blogspot.com/feeds/113785446699042426/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16547207&amp;postID=113785446699042426' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16547207/posts/default/113785446699042426'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16547207/posts/default/113785446699042426'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://statuesque.blogspot.com/2006/01/dad-returned-and-i-got-opportunity-to.html' title=''/><author><name>pulchritudinous</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01745138746361137024</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16547207.post-113785377583610232</id><published>2006-01-21T22:29:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-01-21T22:29:35.870+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;P&gt;&lt;BR&gt;&lt;IMG alt="Image hosting by Photobucket" src="http://i17.photobucket.com/albums/b92/magnificence/Photo-0198.jpg"&gt;&lt;BR&gt;the half class outing with pei ru...miss ya darling!&lt;/P&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;P&gt;&lt;BR&gt;&lt;IMG alt="Image hosting by Photobucket" src="http://i17.photobucket.com/albums/b92/magnificence/Photo-0200.jpg"&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;P&gt;cheryl, esther and sherilyn&lt;BR&gt;&lt;BR&gt;&lt;IMG alt="Image hosting by Photobucket" src="http://i17.photobucket.com/albums/b92/magnificence/Photo-0202.jpg"&gt;&lt;BR&gt;our dear jing lin, the pic taken on purpose, with the 'man' beside her&lt;/P&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;P&gt;&lt;BR&gt;&lt;IMG alt="Image hosting by Photobucket" src="http://i17.photobucket.com/albums/b92/magnificence/Photo-0205.jpg"&gt;&lt;BR&gt;the musketeers, diana, pei ling and pei ru&lt;/P&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;P&gt;&lt;BR&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;P&gt;&lt;IMG alt="Image hosting by Photobucket" src="http://i17.photobucket.com/albums/b92/magnificence/Photo-0207.jpg"&gt;&lt;BR&gt;candid shot, they were all 'fighting' for the mag&lt;/P&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;P&gt;&lt;BR&gt;&lt;IMG alt="Image hosting by Photobucket" src="http://i17.photobucket.com/albums/b92/magnificence/Photo-0208.jpg"&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;P&gt;my picture with my daughter&lt;BR&gt;&lt;BR&gt;&lt;IMG alt="Image hosting by Photobucket" src="http://i17.photobucket.com/albums/b92/magnificence/Photo-0209.jpg"&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;P&gt;the famous duo, i love her crap.&lt;BR&gt;&lt;BR&gt;&lt;IMG alt="Image hosting by Photobucket" src="http://i17.photobucket.com/albums/b92/magnificence/Photo-0210.jpg"&gt;&lt;BR&gt;we took the pic with the sign above on purpose&lt;/P&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;P&gt;&lt;BR&gt;&lt;IMG alt="Image hosting by Photobucket" src="http://i17.photobucket.com/albums/b92/magnificence/Photo-0211.jpg"&gt;&lt;BR&gt;the dinner at pasta mania. we made them arrange the table this way.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;P&gt;&lt;BR&gt;&lt;IMG alt="Image hosting by Photobucket" src="http://i17.photobucket.com/albums/b92/magnificence/Photo-0212.jpg"&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;P&gt;a clearer pic, look at the guys.&lt;BR&gt;&lt;BR&gt;&lt;IMG alt="Image hosting by Photobucket" src="http://i17.photobucket.com/albums/b92/magnificence/Photo-0213.jpg"&gt;&lt;BR&gt;and then we began to try to take a nice pic together, but we failed every time. this was too bright.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;P&gt;&lt;BR&gt;&lt;IMG alt="Image hosting by Photobucket" src="http://i17.photobucket.com/albums/b92/magnificence/Photo-0214.jpg"&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;P&gt;she got tired of the person trying to take the pic.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;P&gt;&lt;BR&gt;&lt;BR&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;P&gt;&lt;IMG alt="Image hosting by Photobucket" src="http://i17.photobucket.com/albums/b92/magnificence/Photo-0215.jpg"&gt;&lt;BR&gt;she's doing something, i don't know what, i also don't know why my mouth is like that.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;P&gt;&lt;BR&gt;&lt;IMG alt="Image hosting by Photobucket" src="http://i17.photobucket.com/albums/b92/magnificence/Photo-0216.jpg"&gt;&lt;BR&gt;this was close to the perfect pic, but she didn't like her hair.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;P&gt;&lt;BR&gt;&lt;IMG alt="Image hosting by Photobucket" src="http://i17.photobucket.com/albums/b92/magnificence/Photo-0217.jpg"&gt;&lt;BR&gt;this was when she was tryign to fix her hair, so cute!&lt;/P&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;P&gt;&lt;BR&gt;&lt;IMG alt="Image hosting by Photobucket" src="http://i17.photobucket.com/albums/b92/magnificence/Photo-0218.jpg"&gt;&lt;BR&gt;yea we tried again one last time.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;P&gt;&lt;BR&gt;&lt;IMG alt="Image hosting by Photobucket" src="http://i17.photobucket.com/albums/b92/magnificence/Photo-0219.jpg"&gt;&lt;BR&gt;in the dist on the stairs..........&lt;/P&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;P&gt;&lt;BR&gt;&lt;IMG alt="Image hosting by Photobucket" src="http://i17.photobucket.com/albums/b92/magnificence/Photo-0220.jpg"&gt;&lt;BR&gt;mathura started taking pics cos we just got so bored.&lt;BR&gt;&lt;BR&gt;&lt;BR&gt;&lt;IMG alt="Image hosting by Photobucket" src="http://i17.photobucket.com/albums/b92/magnificence/Photo-0222.jpg"&gt;&lt;BR&gt;i was thinking, yea thinking.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16547207-113785377583610232?l=statuesque.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://statuesque.blogspot.com/feeds/113785377583610232/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16547207&amp;postID=113785377583610232' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16547207/posts/default/113785377583610232'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16547207/posts/default/113785377583610232'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://statuesque.blogspot.com/2006/01/half-class-outing-with-pei-ru.html' title=''/><author><name>pulchritudinous</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01745138746361137024</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16547207.post-113757528635709050</id><published>2006-01-18T16:43:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-01-18T17:08:06.373+08:00</updated><title type='text'>this feeling</title><content type='html'>&lt;em&gt;this feeling, &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;it kills from within&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;it wrenches your heart, &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;leaves you hurting&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;you don't know if its right, &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;or if its wrong&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;you don't know what to listen to, &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;you can't stand strong&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;the heart conflicts with the mind,&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;it plays all sorts of games&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;you hate feeling the anxiety,&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;the tears that rains&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;it leaves you in confusion&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;especially when its from one side&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;especially when you don't know if it is&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;especially when you're stuck on the ride&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;there is so much fear involved&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;fear of losing the other&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;fear of saying the wrong things&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;fear of creating a hater&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;you want to move forward&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;get away from this pain&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;but its like your feet is caught real tight&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;and the strenght to move, you can't gain&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;its like this pit&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;thats deep deep deep in&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;its only when you fall in it, that you regret&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;then you don't have choice but to commit the sin&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;its a sin i tell you&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;its a sin cos it hurts&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;it may bring happiness&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;but only for a while it lurks&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;it leaves you questioning&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;to which answers you won't get&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;when you do get the answers&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;its too late, and you regret&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;i hate being in this situation&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;i hate feeling this way&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;because i don't know&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;if you really want to stay&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;you say you're bad with words&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;you tell me i should hear my heart&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;but what if my heart is wrong&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;believing it will just tear me apart&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;thats what falling in love is about&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;these are the emotions it creates&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;this is the pain it leaves you in&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;thats the mockery of you it makes&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;the incomplete dream&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16547207-113757528635709050?l=statuesque.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://statuesque.blogspot.com/feeds/113757528635709050/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16547207&amp;postID=113757528635709050' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16547207/posts/default/113757528635709050'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16547207/posts/default/113757528635709050'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://statuesque.blogspot.com/2006/01/this-feeling.html' title='this feeling'/><author><name>pulchritudinous</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01745138746361137024</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16547207.post-113733982283479317</id><published>2006-01-15T23:18:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-01-15T23:49:46.053+08:00</updated><title type='text'>oooh...</title><content type='html'>met yasmin today. oh my god yasmin baby. i've missed her so so so much, it was wonderful meeting her again. the saying is so true, " you don't know what you've got till its gone." when she was in our lives, life was great and wonderful, and now that she has left, its like a great part of my life is missing. directly or indirectly, people walk in and out of our lives, but they leave their traces behind. they still are remembered. some cherished, some cursed, some loved, some hated. my dear yasmin is the perfect example of someone who is cherished, along with the others who have left like pei ru and haikel, and then there is amritah and sabina and so many other people who have left to do something else. i miss all of them dearly.  it was nice just sitting in long john and talking about all the occurences in our lives and catching up things, laughing and simply hanging out. once again, i've missed you yas, still do!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;if you talk about hate, i don't hate someone easily. yes i might dislike you but hate is a completely different story. i'm talking about a person whom once you think about him or her, you only feel like smashing their head or running a car over them if you could not end up in jail by doing so. i'm am talking about keshy. boy do i dislike him. i mean a month ago he was apparently in love with someone so much, claming she changed his life and tons of other crap, and i warned that little bitch about him, and she pretended to listen, and now she likes him, told him to wait a year for her, and he claims he would. oh for heaven's sake, even before she has left he is already making out with someone else. i laughed out loud when i heard it. what makes her think that a guy in this generation would actually wait for a girl, and not even think about another. sorry to tell you, but thats not happening in this generation. oh well, i just laugh when i think about it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and our dear nusy, how cute, she just called me at 11 30 in the night to ask me how to tie the tie. so cute i tell you. apparently she has been practising all week. and she sounded so cute on the phone, " are you awake ok good you are teach me how to tie now". no wonder we love her so much. i love em all actually, sangitah, sham, muni, yas, tahira, nusy, nirupz, ash, and of course the one and only su whom i've been trying to seduce for a long time but she's head over heels for muni. i'm jealous!! su is so cute with her macho looks and behavior but an absolutely cute voice. not that she's not handsome, god when she looks at me i melt, and her smile, oooooh. oh all these ladies have special distinct characteristics in them. and i love em loads.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;dada asked mom and i to do shopping before he comes, yes i might be flying off next week. i really hope i do, i really want to meet my cousins. told my mum to keep 400 for me in the side, thats like 10000 rupees, enough to buy me new clothes and all. not only that i have lots of work to do before i go. things like a facial, buy more make up, buy proper application brush, do my hair, new shoes, god tons of things. also i have to keep in track of all the work i'd miss. i really hope i do go.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;anyway spectacular day, spent with spectacular people. me muni and yas, together after such a long time. a huge kiss to both of them who mean loads to me. and to the rest of the girls too. actually to all i love!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16547207-113733982283479317?l=statuesque.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://statuesque.blogspot.com/feeds/113733982283479317/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16547207&amp;postID=113733982283479317' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16547207/posts/default/113733982283479317'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16547207/posts/default/113733982283479317'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://statuesque.blogspot.com/2006/01/oooh.html' title='oooh...'/><author><name>pulchritudinous</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01745138746361137024</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16547207.post-113725656567422226</id><published>2006-01-15T00:26:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-01-15T00:36:05.693+08:00</updated><title type='text'>14 january..</title><content type='html'>superb day. met pei ru after such a long time. actually a week. but it seems like such a long time. the class is so different without her. i miss her being in class, with her weird comments and bubbly nature, i just miss her. the outing with the class and her was fab. had dinner at pastamania, and the dessert i had was mmm mmm. then we headed to take pictures, and lovely pictures i must say. after that a trip to starbucks and just chilling. it was nice catching up on things, telling her about the happenings in my life and her telling me about hers. i told her about my intentions to change my look after a's by cutting my hair really short and straightening it. i love the hair that jayla or possesses from america's next top model. i will think twice before getting my hair that short considering the fact that my cousin's weddings will come up soon, one by one and long hair goes with indian clothes. but its an option. we also plan to wear long jeans, high heels and try to sign up for ms s'pore universe next yr. just for the fun of it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i can't wait to start my driving lessons. gonna take it private and finish it within two months. i want it badly cos i want to be at the driver's seat. just waiting for my dad to return because once he does i'll know if i am flying off next week or not. i really want to cos i miss my cousin's loads.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;tomorrow meeting up with yasmin baby. can't wait. it been so long since i've seen her. i hope i see babushka on monday since her school is starting. but oh well thats monday.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;yesterday had dance practice and my legs are killing me. all the dancing after so long. but j1-s are doing good and they are learning fast. i hope they steal the show.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16547207-113725656567422226?l=statuesque.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://statuesque.blogspot.com/feeds/113725656567422226/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16547207&amp;postID=113725656567422226' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16547207/posts/default/113725656567422226'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16547207/posts/default/113725656567422226'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://statuesque.blogspot.com/2006/01/14-january.html' title='14 january..'/><author><name>pulchritudinous</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01745138746361137024</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16547207.post-113699417754494256</id><published>2006-01-11T23:33:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-01-11T23:42:57.556+08:00</updated><title type='text'>lovely..</title><content type='html'>the orientation was a success. what i'm most proud of is the fact that when we started at 3 pm, barely two people wanted to stay in jjc, and when we ended at 6, we convinced 6 more out of the 20 to stay. thats the power of love. i'm proud of all the year two-s who were present today, we showed them the boding we share, some laughs, joys, happiness, our talents everything. we had a great time today for orientation and credit goes to this year's batch of year ones too. they are so on oh my god. so gung ho i was shocked beyond words. we didn't have to convince them at all for anything , they were volunteering to take part and perform.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;we have so many things coming up such as chinese new year dance, SAJC competition, AJC competition, NJC competition and most importantly our very own production end of march. a lot of things at hand and i am tryign to manage both, more like all. this week is hectic. tomorrow maths test which i will suck at cos i know nuts about complex numbers. i want to do well for next week's lecture test on it. friday is chem test on organic stuff. i love organic chem so i really wanna do well in it. tomorrow and friday gonna stay and mug in school, and there is practice on friday too. saturday finally meetign up with yasmin baby. i hope it goes successful. next week, a lot of things to find out. two tests too. life's picking and time is flying too. who would have thought the 2nd week of school is over.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;someone flew off to canada today. maybe his absence would make me feel his importance or even his significance in my life. oh well, i hope he has fun there in canada.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16547207-113699417754494256?l=statuesque.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://statuesque.blogspot.com/feeds/113699417754494256/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16547207&amp;postID=113699417754494256' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16547207/posts/default/113699417754494256'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16547207/posts/default/113699417754494256'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://statuesque.blogspot.com/2006/01/lovely.html' title='lovely..'/><author><name>pulchritudinous</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01745138746361137024</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16547207.post-113674651982043517</id><published>2006-01-09T02:38:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-01-09T03:01:46.936+08:00</updated><title type='text'>its times like these</title><content type='html'>the rain falls and the droplets of water hit the leaves in an angry rhythm, it hits the ground like clear translucent pearls, it reminds me of the various seconds that has past the past few years. it reminds of the time i once felt the lonliness of the night. its times like these that i remember you and shed a tear. a tear which is referred to as mins of discreet crying. i get reminded of that special moment we had together. i get reminded of what could have been but which now isn't. it sets me wondering if it really is my fault that we have wound up this way or if its yours. its times like these that i can't close my eyes and pretend that everything is alright and fall in the deep darkness and sleep.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;what i felt that one night was magical enough to keep me going for long. what i felt that one night was wonderful enough to keep me smiling for days. what i felt that one night was enough to give me peace and solitude for hours. what i felt that one night was enough to keep the memories lingering for countless minutes. it was a moment that was special. perhaps which only i felt.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i don't know what i want anymore because i have stopped dreaming. i have stopped dreaming because it hurts when they shatter and when i wake up from it and realise its not reality. when its not reality its painful to face it. when i can't face it it sends this strong urge within me to just get back to that one moment, cease time and let it be the way it was. its when i can't cease time that i realise whatever i am hoping is impossible. it is perhaps only something i want because you do not show any sign of pain or suffering from the time apart. it's crazy the way i feel and its driving me crazy too. i need to grow out of it but its so difficult to do.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;its times like these that you face the greatest challenges. the challenge of fighting with your emotions. the challenge of trying to control your thoughts. the challenge of trying to control your tears. the challenge of trying to show everyone else you're happy. the challenge of passing each day. i'm here wishing for something that will probably never happen.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;i'm here wishing for the impossible. i'm here wishing for you. because its times like these that you are direly missed. yes its you.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16547207-113674651982043517?l=statuesque.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://statuesque.blogspot.com/feeds/113674651982043517/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16547207&amp;postID=113674651982043517' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16547207/posts/default/113674651982043517'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16547207/posts/default/113674651982043517'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://statuesque.blogspot.com/2006/01/its-times-like-these.html' title='its times like these'/><author><name>pulchritudinous</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01745138746361137024</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16547207.post-113673338596965091</id><published>2006-01-08T23:02:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-01-09T03:11:01.123+08:00</updated><title type='text'>i don't know how</title><content type='html'>i don't know how or why or when i changed. but i thought about it today and fact is i have changed. i don't know what i have turned into, but its not me. am i same priyanka who used to love unconditionally be it i get hurt or not? how about the fact that i've stopped caring as much as i used to. i used to solve my problems and not let it sit but now i seem to just chuck it one side and continue with my life. i don't know if that is the right thing to do or not. but yea i have changed, i don't know for better or for worst. i've reached a point where i might not even be able to trust someone who really has something for me. its bad because i have to be back the way i was.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;he said he likes me, he listed the things that even i never realised i possess, but am i pushing him away because i'm too scared to do it again. &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;i had a crush on you. i thought we could make something be. but then you took it and tore it apart and you played a game with me. well thats the way you have made it seem.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;school has kicked off back on track and the stress has kicked in too. i have pending work which is wrong, so wrong. i have two tests on tues. god i need someone to teach me complex numbers.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;did i mention how much it has rained the past two days. its been crazy. i love the rain actually. when i feel each droplet hit my skin and my face, it sends this wonderful sensation throughout my body. i love the rain for the way it looks, for the way its feels, for the memories it brings, that of my childhood, that of special people, that of special moments.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;one thing i've realised, i can never have you&lt;/em&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16547207-113673338596965091?l=statuesque.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://statuesque.blogspot.com/feeds/113673338596965091/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16547207&amp;postID=113673338596965091' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16547207/posts/default/113673338596965091'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16547207/posts/default/113673338596965091'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://statuesque.blogspot.com/2006/01/i-dont-know-how.html' title='i don&apos;t know how'/><author><name>pulchritudinous</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01745138746361137024</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16547207.post-113656252466715219</id><published>2006-01-06T23:43:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-01-07T00:00:27.406+08:00</updated><title type='text'>ugh!</title><content type='html'>now you're irritating. you're just irritating. god the world doesn't revolve around you you know and my life is not going to function the way you want it to you know. stop treating me like a toy because i'm not one. i have feelings and it hurts in case you don't get it. but yes you don't get it. and you know what i don't get, what you're trying to do now. you're just proving to me that i should believe that whatever you say is a lie and i really never did mean anything to you. and you claim it will hurt if you see me with someone else. you're the one whose pushing me away from you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;there is only so much i can do. the rest is up to you.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16547207-113656252466715219?l=statuesque.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://statuesque.blogspot.com/feeds/113656252466715219/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16547207&amp;postID=113656252466715219' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16547207/posts/default/113656252466715219'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16547207/posts/default/113656252466715219'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://statuesque.blogspot.com/2006/01/ugh.html' title='ugh!'/><author><name>pulchritudinous</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01745138746361137024</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16547207.post-113646021822396619</id><published>2006-01-05T19:15:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-01-05T20:20:32.050+08:00</updated><title type='text'>i hate being this way.</title><content type='html'>i slept in school today. oops. well not my fault the drowsy medicine i got from the doctor does not help. and sleeping really late last night cos i was thinking about what i did yesterday and feelign guilty about it did not help. and the lump on the wrist, i have to see another doctor for it. i don't know what it is. she doesn't know what it is. next wednesday is ICS orientation that i and munz are oraganising. looking forward to that. saturday meeting up with yasmin and everyone else, looking forward to that too. tuesday is a holiday, looking forward to that too.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;i'm breaking from inside, but you never understand.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;i'm suffering from within, but its misconceptions you send.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;i'm fighting with trust, i don't know who to believe.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;its a crazy world out there, all about taking risks.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;and she's playing a game. a game in which no matter what i'll be at the losing end.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16547207-113646021822396619?l=statuesque.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://statuesque.blogspot.com/feeds/113646021822396619/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16547207&amp;postID=113646021822396619' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16547207/posts/default/113646021822396619'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16547207/posts/default/113646021822396619'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://statuesque.blogspot.com/2006/01/i-hate-being-this-way.html' title='i hate being this way.'/><author><name>pulchritudinous</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01745138746361137024</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16547207.post-113614947492854344</id><published>2006-01-02T04:51:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-01-02T05:21:51.400+08:00</updated><title type='text'>lalalala</title><content type='html'>MINISTRY OF SOUND ROCKS! it was absolutely fabulous. just got back. danced for 4 straight hours. surprisingly my brother brought me. and he did bring me to a fab place. it had like three dance floors, one for retro, one for trace and one for RnB, which was where i was. picked up a few guys but they were just too old to exchange numbers with. since i've only been dating younger guys its difficult to adjust to older guys. the crowd was pretty good just a little old for me. maybe thats why my guy friends go to cheeky's and all cos the crowd there is probably younger. i didn't drink at all because ever since my last drinking session before christmas, i've decided not too. while being normal and high-less i had a great time. it was nice dancing on the higher ground and on the floor even. saw a few familiar faces as well. but whatever it is, ministry of sound is great. the music was good and so were the djs.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i went temple too, that was before hitting the club. they were having this prayer which was so strong. it was like i felt as if god actually came down and blessed everyone. soem people were actually getting possesed and some were crying too. i know i almost did. the feeling was just so overwhelming. but i'm glad i went there.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i realise anything works if u have faith in it. god exists if u have faith in it. spirits exists ifu have faith in it. so does love or friendship or trust or anything.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;anyway one thing i hate about clubbing is that now my hair and clothes smell like cigg. its just a gross smell. but yes i had a great time and wat a way to spend the 1st two days of the year! lovely!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;to those who regretted not hitting the sentosa beach party, well if you had hit there then you would have regretted it too. half the crowd there was bangladeshis and the other half chinese and malays. and the music was bad. so yea.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;because i wish you were there instead. maybe some day i'll dance with the crush.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16547207-113614947492854344?l=statuesque.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://statuesque.blogspot.com/feeds/113614947492854344/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16547207&amp;postID=113614947492854344' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16547207/posts/default/113614947492854344'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16547207/posts/default/113614947492854344'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://statuesque.blogspot.com/2006/01/lalalala.html' title='lalalala'/><author><name>pulchritudinous</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01745138746361137024</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16547207.post-113605862677353013</id><published>2006-01-01T03:13:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-01-01T17:43:03.323+08:00</updated><title type='text'>its crazy now</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff00;"&gt;its like the ocean&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff00;"&gt;so deep and free&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff00;"&gt;its like the sunset&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff00;"&gt;so wonderful and pretty&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff00;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff00;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff00;"&gt;its something that only you possess&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff00;"&gt;so enchanting and mezmerising&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff00;"&gt;its something that i kept on looking at&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff00;"&gt;so marvellous, couldn't get myself moving&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff00;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff00;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff00;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff00;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff00;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff00;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff00;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff00;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff00;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff00;"&gt;its something i should stop looking at&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff00;"&gt;or else it would drive me wild&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff00;"&gt;its something i want to stare into&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff00;"&gt;or else i'd feel weird inside&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff00;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff00;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff00;"&gt;your eyes are just too pretty to ignore&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff00;"&gt;its like the window to your soul&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff00;"&gt;the soul that i see everything i look in them&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff00;"&gt;its the eyes that has put me on the roll&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff00;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff00;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff00;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff00;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff00;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff00;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff00;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff00;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff00;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff00;"&gt;but i must be crazy to have a crush on you. because its just crazy, to want to be with you. and its just crazy the way i love the way you rest your face on your hand when you're nervous.and its crazy to love the way you smile. and its crazy, i can go on. and because its crazy i have to stop myself.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;and today was fabulous. went ice skating, remarkably only fell once in the two hours. then played pool, almost had my nite plans destroyed, but some persuasion with the da and the plans re-emerged. then went to play bowling, but didn't quite play because i had to leave. then i met up with the friend, so wonderful meeting her again after such a long time. oh the day was good. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;and tomorrow is the first day of the year. and i hope that the new year brings happiness in my life, because i'm tired of the emotional roller coaster i was on this year. i'm tired of the family problems and i'm tired of the love problems and i'm tired of the rumours and i'm tired of the bad results and i'm tired of the frenship problems and i'm tired of the relationship problems and i'm tired of giving and giving and only getting crap in the end. basically i hated this year. yes there were a few joys but the pain and suffering i felt was just too much. forget me, my friends went through a lot too. forget my friends my parents went through a lot too. forget my parents even the world did. recall the many disasters we've had this years. so many people passed away and so many were homeless. 2005 has quite been a bad one as whole. i hope 2006 is something else. and yes, here are my resolutions for 2006.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;1) study and mug and study&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;2) get my driving license&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;3) lose weight and become fitter&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;4) reach school on time&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;5) prioritize&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;6) remain guy-less&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;okay i'll stop there. can't have too many. but tomorrow shall be fun as i set into my ventures again. and the next thing i can't wait for has to meeting the friend again. and the next thing i can't wait for is flying off in jan. and i can't wait for the remixed cd either. doing a dance. missed dancing. miss the girls too. well thats that and today was fun although it ended pretty wildly, but i had fun.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16547207-113605862677353013?l=statuesque.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://statuesque.blogspot.com/feeds/113605862677353013/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16547207&amp;postID=113605862677353013' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16547207/posts/default/113605862677353013'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16547207/posts/default/113605862677353013'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://statuesque.blogspot.com/2006/01/its-crazy-now.html' title='its crazy now'/><author><name>pulchritudinous</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01745138746361137024</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16547207.post-113595708347985651</id><published>2005-12-30T23:21:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-12-30T23:49:58.080+08:00</updated><title type='text'>i'm happy.</title><content type='html'>and i loved today. the first wonderful that happened. i met Rupa. god after so long. such a coincidence we were in the same train, on our to suntec city for college day. it was so nice talkin to her, and did i mention it was nice bitching about our ex together. we had the laugh of the century. we were holding our stomach and using the bitching to calm us down from stage fright. not that i quite get affected by being on the stage, because i'm used to being in front of people. but whatever it is, it was absolutely fab meeting her. and did i mention the pretty glass trophy thingy we got. oh its so pretty, with my name engraved on it. dada gave me a kissy because he was so proud. yay! and it so nice meeting nirupa and nusy again. its been so long and i can't wait to meet the rest of he girls.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and then i de-hairyfied myself, and now my face looks neat and nice. threaded the eyebrows. it was a thing i had to do before the school starts and before tomorrow. because tomorrow i have to look good. its so nice to look in the mirror now. and i met someone there coincidentally as well. god it was Sabina. the friend i haven't met for 4 years. she is now studying in boston and only comes here once in a while and i've been trying to meet her for years, and today we met. we just looked at each other, said "oh my god" at the same time and embraced. it was so so so nice meeting her and talking to her. we exchanged numbers and we will meet up soon.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and then went to watch Narnia with a few friends. i liked the movie, it was different and nice. length was the same as harry potter but yes it was a nice movie. then i got myself a self-birthday present from perlini. its this pretty thing that i loved once i laid eyes on it. hats the thing about me and shopping. if there is something i like, i'd get that and nothing else, because there will not be anything else that i'd like. come to think of it its like one of my characteristic. if there is something i like, i want it, by hook or by crook. and thats bad because you don't always get what you want in life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and the dinner at pizza hut was lovely too. god i need to hit the gym soon. and did i mention school is starting on tuesday not monday. now thats fab news. will watch bluffmaster with the friend on monday. fabulous day. loved it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;and tomorrow will be lovely too.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16547207-113595708347985651?l=statuesque.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://statuesque.blogspot.com/feeds/113595708347985651/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16547207&amp;postID=113595708347985651' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16547207/posts/default/113595708347985651'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16547207/posts/default/113595708347985651'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://statuesque.blogspot.com/2005/12/im-happy.html' title='i&apos;m happy.'/><author><name>pulchritudinous</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01745138746361137024</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16547207.post-113587587206076553</id><published>2005-12-30T00:03:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-12-30T01:04:32.116+08:00</updated><title type='text'>the day i smiled..</title><content type='html'>i grew restless. the night drew it. it was getting late. my heart beat increased. i was getting impaitient. i felt this pain within that didn't even feel like a pain. i had a feeling it will happen. but i was scared to believe it. i didn't want to get dissappointed thereafter if it didn't happen. oh how am i to describe the feeling. its like swimming but not getting wet. its like drinking but not getting anything through. its like dancing but feeling still. its like smiling but having tears coming through.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;the phone rang. i took a glance. my heart was pounding. i looked at my phone screen. there it was, private number. and on the other side, the person i'd been waiting for.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;now i'm just waiting for saturday. i just hope everthing goes according to plan. my wish is to embrace the day, i just hope it happens.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and yasmin darling was another reason i smiled today. she has sent me a postcard, saying i love you and all. how sweet is it. it reminded me of the postcards the girls wrote to me and muneera when we were down regarding our promotion. such small thoughts are so....sweet. it just leaves me speechless.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;me and a friend were talking yesterday. we realised that yes life has its ups and downs, but if you look carefully, when there is something to cry, turn around and you'll see there will be something to smile about, or just see the number of people who are by your side. there was this phrase i read today. when you think the world has turned against you, look again, its you have turned against it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;today i smiled.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16547207-113587587206076553?l=statuesque.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://statuesque.blogspot.com/feeds/113587587206076553/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16547207&amp;postID=113587587206076553' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16547207/posts/default/113587587206076553'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16547207/posts/default/113587587206076553'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://statuesque.blogspot.com/2005/12/day-i-smiled.html' title='the day i smiled..'/><author><name>pulchritudinous</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01745138746361137024</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16547207.post-113562167710026753</id><published>2005-12-27T02:17:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-12-27T02:27:57.113+08:00</updated><title type='text'>i'm back!</title><content type='html'>feeling absolutely lazy to upload the pictures i took in melacca but the trip was absolutely fabulous. it was really short in my opinion. should have stayed longer, but yes it was fun. saturday we were just too tired, a huge jam at tuas checkpoint. only managed a dinner at some tandoori restaurant which took us two hours to find. sunday was fun, went to this place called A famosa. that place was like a mini sentosa, better in some ways, not as good in others. then we had dinner at pizza hut, which i had after a long time. then the kids and me and my brother and his friend, we played monopoly, which i lost pretty badly in. one of the kids had this property with four houses on it, so whoever stepped on it had to pay 2000. was bankrupt really. but it was fun. played table tennis this morning and shopped too. but it was just too short, only two hours of shopping. at least i managed getting a kohl pencil from body shop and some clothes as well.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;melacca is more of a historical place. if you like museums and sceneries, go for it. nice place to have a holiday. i know i had fun.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;next week school is starting and the new year is starting too. have been thinking of my resolutions. will confirm them on friday or saturday i guess.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;next trip i'm looking forward to is the one next month to india. i'll finally meet my cousins. hopefully dada agrees to going.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i'm tired. more tomorrow. and a merry belated christmas to everyone.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16547207-113562167710026753?l=statuesque.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://statuesque.blogspot.com/feeds/113562167710026753/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16547207&amp;postID=113562167710026753' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16547207/posts/default/113562167710026753'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16547207/posts/default/113562167710026753'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://statuesque.blogspot.com/2005/12/im-back.html' title='i&apos;m back!'/><author><name>pulchritudinous</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01745138746361137024</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16547207.post-113535899441481614</id><published>2005-12-24T01:09:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-12-24T01:33:29.190+08:00</updated><title type='text'>and i laughed..</title><content type='html'>today i sat back and laughed for a while. i laughed at the fact that it seems to me like i'm the only unlucky bitch around whose happiness in a relationship just can't last. i don't think it ever will. i don't know if its because i try too hard or its just because i'm just plain unlucky. i'm very happy for all my friends who have found perfect guys, who are at least willing to work things out and even have the maturity to not waste their time girl hopping. its nice to know they are happy. fact is i am too. i may not have happiness from all sides, but i least know there is someone missing me at this point of time, and who was in my dreams last night. and the call came today, after 3 long days, be it just for half an hour, it made me feel good. and when the three words were out from that someone, "i've missed you," it felt good. keep it this way, don't take a step back or a step forward. a step back will mean i'll lose you and step forward will mean i might lose you. its just a fear thing and thats why you should just keep it this way.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i wish i clould wrap myself and be that someone's christmas present. at least thats what that someone wants. but yes i'm controlling myself this time, this will not develop to anything else more than a crush. because anything else more will just mean the recurrence of the pain i've felt for the past three months. the wound that finally healed abt a week back. the wound that will always remain as a scar in my heart, but to him, i was just a passing wind. " you were a great gf but we just din't click" he said, but i wonder why he made it seem like i was the perfect one before and two weeks after being with me. no i'm not angry with what he did to me, i'm angry with the fact that he lied ever so continously. but i've forgiven him, and i've forgiven myself, for the mistakes i've made in life. i realise it has all thought me something, and has made me the person i am today.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i am thankful for the people in my life, for my friends, for family, for the people i love and for those who love me. i'm thankful for being born normal and for the many times i've fallen and hurt myself. now i just hope that what lies ahead is something i can cherish. and i also hope that the one who crossed my mind and my dreams last night would cross my path soon.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;dreams oh dreams. they feel like reality and is one of my favourite things. its like a short movie of whats in your subconcious, and it feels so real. an experience you may or may not feel in life. and i need to sleep now, because i want to dream and i have to wake up tomorrow to leave. 3 days of mayhem here i come. and yes a merry christmas to everyone!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16547207-113535899441481614?l=statuesque.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://statuesque.blogspot.com/feeds/113535899441481614/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16547207&amp;postID=113535899441481614' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16547207/posts/default/113535899441481614'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16547207/posts/default/113535899441481614'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://statuesque.blogspot.com/2005/12/and-i-laughed.html' title='and i laughed..'/><author><name>pulchritudinous</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01745138746361137024</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16547207.post-113523393268656072</id><published>2005-12-22T14:34:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-12-22T14:45:32.696+08:00</updated><title type='text'>its crazy..</title><content type='html'>its crazy out there. now that i don't want to get involved with akesh or his life, someone or some people are using my name and threatening him and sital. last night she got a call from someone who is supposedly my boyfreind. oh for heaven's sake i don't have a boyfriend. now there is someone using my name to write crap on akesh's tagboard. once again, for heaven's sake i don't care if he left me, i'm better off without him, and why use my name, he or she sould have the guts to use his or her name. now since i don't want to get involved with him, why put me in trouble now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and another thing i want to clear is that no i never hated sital or talked behind her back, and i really think that we were quite close, until i heard that she was bitching behind my back and that she has always disliked me. i'm guessing that mr abhilash must have told her some crap that i dislike her and have spoken things behind her back so that she would hate me or something. mr abhilash is good at these kind of things. anyway its just a misunderstanding that i don't think sital is willing to clear. i don't hate her for it either cos i never will. i hopes she reads this and gets the real picture.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;anyway whoever is the idiot doing this, its not funny, and stop being a chicken and use your own name.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16547207-113523393268656072?l=statuesque.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://statuesque.blogspot.com/feeds/113523393268656072/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16547207&amp;postID=113523393268656072' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16547207/posts/default/113523393268656072'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16547207/posts/default/113523393268656072'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://statuesque.blogspot.com/2005/12/its-crazy.html' title='its crazy..'/><author><name>pulchritudinous</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01745138746361137024</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16547207.post-113509690230975439</id><published>2005-12-21T00:41:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-12-21T00:59:10.946+08:00</updated><title type='text'>the outing</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;when the exams are over, the fun begins. and for the fun to begin, shopping must begin. like i said, went shopping with muneera on thurs last week, took only two pics but here they are.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img alt="Image hosted by Photobucket.com" src="http://i17.photobucket.com/albums/b92/magnificence/Photo-0146.jpg" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;thats muneera, looking through clothes, didn't find anything suitable from that shop.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img alt="Image hosted by Photobucket.com" src="http://i17.photobucket.com/albums/b92/magnificence/Photo-0147.jpg" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;thats the pretty black lambo i desire to get in future. for those of you who are laughing at this thought of mine, think again, i can always marry someone rich! lol&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;then there is today. went out with Vino, watched saw two. it was interesting i must say, but i heard the 1st one was more gordy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img alt="Image hosted by Photobucket.com" src="http://i17.photobucket.com/albums/b92/magnificence/Photo-0148.jpg" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;the coke that Vino drank and the empty glasses of orange juice belonging to me and another or lime belonging to smitpal. oh yes, met him there too, last min meeting with him and Kabir and Preeti, Kabir's sis.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img alt="Image hosted by Photobucket.com" src="http://i17.photobucket.com/albums/b92/magnificence/Photo-0149.jpg" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;yup. thats smitpal.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img alt="Image hosted by Photobucket.com" src="http://i17.photobucket.com/albums/b92/magnificence/Photo-0151.jpg" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;me and preeti.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img alt="Image hosted by Photobucket.com" src="http://i17.photobucket.com/albums/b92/magnificence/Photo-0152.jpg" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;looks like a pic from the past, well not really.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img alt="Image hosted by Photobucket.com" src="http://i17.photobucket.com/albums/b92/magnificence/Photo-0153.jpg" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;thats Kabir, when we went to play pool. he won the game against Vino.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img alt="Image hosted by Photobucket.com" src="http://i17.photobucket.com/albums/b92/magnificence/Photo-0154.jpg" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;in case you;re wondering, he is holding a black ball in his right hand at that position.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img alt="Image hosted by Photobucket.com" src="http://i17.photobucket.com/albums/b92/magnificence/Photo-0155.jpg" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;setting the table for me to play.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img alt="Image hosted by Photobucket.com" src="http://i17.photobucket.com/albums/b92/magnificence/Photo-0156.jpg" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;thats Smitpal aft the shot, was playing a game with him which ahem, i won in. oh and thats me on the side pointing to his balls with the cue.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img alt="Image hosted by Photobucket.com" src="http://i17.photobucket.com/albums/b92/magnificence/Photo-0157.jpg" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;him again. acting pro as usual. and i'm pointing yet again. and the white ball went in.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img alt="Image hosted by Photobucket.com" src="http://i17.photobucket.com/albums/b92/magnificence/Photo-0158.jpg" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;thats kabir trying to teach his sis how to play.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img alt="Image hosted by Photobucket.com" src="http://i17.photobucket.com/albums/b92/magnificence/Photo-0161.jpg" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;thats Vino setting the table.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img alt="Image hosted by Photobucket.com" src="http://i17.photobucket.com/albums/b92/magnificence/Photo-0162.jpg" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;yup, this year's christmas deco sucks. just look at em.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img alt="Image hosted by Photobucket.com" src="http://i17.photobucket.com/albums/b92/magnificence/Photo-0163.jpg" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;you see that pretty flower. there is actually like a waterfall there and light in the form of the flower is being casted on the water, pretty stuff i tell u. outside heeren.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img alt="Image hosted by Photobucket.com" src="http://i17.photobucket.com/albums/b92/magnificence/Photo-0164.jpg" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;thats the Boo Boo i enjoyed yet again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img alt="Image hosted by Photobucket.com" src="http://i17.photobucket.com/albums/b92/magnificence/Photo-0165.jpg" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;yea its blur, but its the image of the bungee thing in clarke quay. bro picked me up, drove past it.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;well that was today, absolute fun. more fun tomorrow, and thurs, will be headin to sentosa beach with my ladies. Fri outing with vino again and dinner. Saturday, i'm leaving. Out of singapore.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16547207-113509690230975439?l=statuesque.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://statuesque.blogspot.com/feeds/113509690230975439/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16547207&amp;postID=113509690230975439' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16547207/posts/default/113509690230975439'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16547207/posts/default/113509690230975439'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://statuesque.blogspot.com/2005/12/outing.html' title='the outing'/><author><name>pulchritudinous</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01745138746361137024</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16547207.post-113492324367756416</id><published>2005-12-19T00:08:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-12-19T02:27:32.223+08:00</updated><title type='text'>but..</title><content type='html'>i'm in trouble. because i tried to help. is it because i tried to help or is it because i tried to take revenge? i don't know, i really don't. i forgot that people will always try to clear their name instead of helping someone else. i forgot that people will get anyone else involved to save themselves. i forgot i can't trust someone so easily. i forgot that by getting involved things just get more complicated. i forgot that the more names mentioned the more twisted the story becomes. why am i doing this to him? why am i doing this to myself? why am i doing this to my friends? no he's right. i'm going to pack my past in a suitcase and lock it and throw it in a deep deep sea and the key, i'll break it and not allow anyone to find it. whatever that happened is my fault in one way or another, and its time to take a step back, or should i say a step forward and never step back in the life i've lived so far. i'm angry with myself at this point of time actually. forget the fact that i'm in trouble, others are in trouble because of me, and thats wrong. yea he has done so much wrong to me, but what right am i doing by doing this. absolutely nothing. i don't know why we ended up this way. i don'y know why we are where we are standing now. but yea, its time to close a chapter in my life. i wish i could clear up this mess, buts its too messy to be cleared. i hope he doesn't get in much trouble. any trouble in fact. i hope no one does.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;unlike him, i'm not saying anything bad about him here or how much of a rude character he has, or how un-gentlemanly he is, oh nevermind his life, i'm tired of trying to save people from the ghastly character he has, and the monster he is. and its weird how he keeps on saying that i don't matter and he doesn't care about me, but he consistently mentions my name on his blog or from his mouth and even bothers what i do with someone else. strange.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and look at the girl he is interested in, ms gill. she is like my dustbin. always picking up the things that i throw, in this case my ex-s.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and come to think of it, i feel sad for akesh, really sad. he is like this deprived kid, deprived of love, friendship, trust, and many other things. he lacks manners and thinks so highly of himself that even when people bring a mirror in front of his face to make him realise his true self being, he is unable to accept it. he is unable to accept the fact that he has such a character that will bring him no where in life. yea someday he might be this successful lawyer or whatever shit he wants to become, something he as a 17 yr old still can't decide by the way, but he will never possess a character of a real man because a real man does not insult others the way he does. forget the crap he's writing about me, the other things he's saying about other people, of people who are older than him even, it just shows how much basic manners he lacks. and he talks about himself being so great. he forgets that he is living in this world that never really exists, and this character that he possesses will bring him no where, or no one. that poor thing thinks i'm still crazy about him. oh for heaven's sake, its not you i love but the person you pretended to be. since you were never it, how can i love you, or in this case like you even. just because i do not have any form of love for anyone right now does not means its because i can't get over you, its simply because i have far more better things to do in my life now then go around chasing guys.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ladies, remember these few things. a player will never admit he's one, and no matter how much you think you can make him a better person, its never going to happen, because a player will always remain one.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;come to think of it, i don't care.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16547207-113492324367756416?l=statuesque.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://statuesque.blogspot.com/feeds/113492324367756416/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16547207&amp;postID=113492324367756416' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16547207/posts/default/113492324367756416'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16547207/posts/default/113492324367756416'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://statuesque.blogspot.com/2005/12/but.html' title='but..'/><author><name>pulchritudinous</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01745138746361137024</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16547207.post-113466127651972056</id><published>2005-12-15T23:13:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-12-15T23:41:16.530+08:00</updated><title type='text'>finally</title><content type='html'>and finally exams are over! and finally i can look forward to next year and know i'll be in yr two. i only have 14 days, just two weeks to enjoy life as much as possible because come 2006, i have to mug, i have to study from day one. i want to do well in a's.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;yesterday was great and so was today. yesterday i was with someone really wonderful. it was the 1st time we met but it was like we had so much to bitch about. but i don't know if i'll ever see her again. but spending time with her was really nice. we practically did nothing. all we did was sit and talk. well, i think thats the best thing to do.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;today was fab too. met up with muneera, went to town again and did shopping. i bought quite a lot of stuff. it was really fun shopping after such a long time. the time when we were returning we had no choice but to cab back. we were so tired. we still are. i know i am. going out is so tiring. have plans tomorrow too. by the way, Mango has these huge sale for the next three days so people head down.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;well actually i'm unhappy. i'm really unhappy. past two years i've known this girl. i treated her like a friend, always warned her about danger. turns out she's always hated me. she's always been pretending to talk to me nicely. i hate these kind people. if you hate me then just tell me on my face, why put up a fake front. yea we've never been close, but at least i never expected this from her. she's bitching about me behind my back. at least i've never said i hate her or called her a "slutty bitch". anyway people like these, i'm better off without them. i think i shouldn't be affected by it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i 've also thought about the other problem i've been having. the problem of trying to move on from my past. i've realised  that i am much better off without a guy like him. i mean he's not even a gentleman, not even nice, not even trustworthy, not even attractive, why am i wasting my time. i've finally reached the moving on. basically i hate him. basically i've moved on. basically i've no ounce of feelings for him, because basically he doesn't deserve me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i'm tired. my head hurts. i'm just looking forward to the next few days. i have to study too. and to all those people who bitch about me behind my back, its simply because you're jealous. if not say it to my face.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16547207-113466127651972056?l=statuesque.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://statuesque.blogspot.com/feeds/113466127651972056/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16547207&amp;postID=113466127651972056' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16547207/posts/default/113466127651972056'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16547207/posts/default/113466127651972056'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://statuesque.blogspot.com/2005/12/finally.html' title='finally'/><author><name>pulchritudinous</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01745138746361137024</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16547207.post-113343526644531374</id><published>2005-12-01T18:48:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-12-01T21:49:58.360+08:00</updated><title type='text'>word of wisdom?</title><content type='html'>exams are coming. i'm stressed. very stressed. found these. thought they were rather inspirational.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Dance like no one's watching, love like you'll never be hurt, sing like no one's listening, live like it's heaven on earth...&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-William Purky.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;We waste time looking for the perfect lover,instead of creating the perfect love....&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-Tom Robbins&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Love is too strong a word to say it too early, but it has too beautiful a meaning to say it too late....&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;-&lt;/em&gt;Kurt Spiteri Cornish.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Pain nourishes courage. You can't be brave if you've only had wonderful things happen to you. Pain is inevitable. Misery is optional. Physical pain is a fact that comes with living, just as illness or financial woes or broken relationships are facts. But misery is a state of mind, a reaction to the facts, that can be controlled or altered by an act of will....&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;-&lt;/em&gt;Barbara.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;A dream becomes a reality in 4 stages....dreaming, wanting, planning, and doing. Courage is the glue. If you don't have courage you will never want it bad enough to plan. If you don't have courage, you will never plan it well enough to do. If you don't have courage, the plan will never fulfill your dreams. If you do not fulfill your dreams, you may not have the courage to dream again. Courage my friend!....&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;-&lt;/em&gt;Unknown.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;You don't develop courage by being happy in your relationships everyday. You develop it by surviving difficult times and challenging adversity....&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;-&lt;/em&gt;Barbara De Angelis.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Ability is what you're capable of doing. Motivation determines what you do. Attitude determines how well you do it....&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;-&lt;/em&gt;Lou Holtz&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;anyway will be taking a break from blogging.will not be updating for the next 3 weeks. take care all. and a very happy birthday to priyanka jain (today) kabir (5th dec) vino (6th dec) and rita and me (7th dec).&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16547207-113343526644531374?l=statuesque.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://statuesque.blogspot.com/feeds/113343526644531374/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16547207&amp;postID=113343526644531374' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16547207/posts/default/113343526644531374'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16547207/posts/default/113343526644531374'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://statuesque.blogspot.com/2005/12/word-of-wisdom.html' title='word of wisdom?'/><author><name>pulchritudinous</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01745138746361137024</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16547207.post-113285716721684947</id><published>2005-11-25T02:09:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-11-25T02:32:47.226+08:00</updated><title type='text'>wake up</title><content type='html'>and its been a long time. wake up priyanka, wake up. wake up and realise once again that its over. wake up and realise you met him two days ago. wake up and realise you didn't even have the courage to speak to him, let alone break his face for what he has done to you. wake up and accept that he too is another of those male species who treat girls like fun. wake up and realise that everything he's doing now is just making you hate him, but you still had your heart beating 200 beats per minute the whole 3 hours that he was around. wake up and ask yourself what you've become, nothing but a walking body, without mind without soul, without the will to love again without the will to hold, without the will to care without the will uphold.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;wake up and realise you only have sixteen days left, just sixteen. wake up and remember the time when you were begging for this chance, and now that you've gotten it, you're throwing it down the drain. wake up and realise that at this point of time you have far more important things to deal with then the pain inside. wake up and stop feeling guilty, and change things unless you want to continue feeling this guilt for the rest of your life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;you met someone today. she's like this person you should look up to. she knows what she wants and she gets it. why are you so lazy, so unmotivated about working towards your goal, is it because you're afraid you'll never get it? but think about it, if you don't work now, where are you going to end up in life. life's never easy. it seems like you've stopped believing that there is always an end to the storm, if you face a lot of problems now it just means that life will be better later, god must have planned something nice for you. fact is when you're around people you're fine. when you're with your friends and family and people who care about you, you're fine. its when you are alone that you feel the pain that is suppressed within you, the obstacles you have to face ahead and where your life is going.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;you've only lived 18 years so far, wake up, there is more to see.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;and i've started sounding pathetic again.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16547207-113285716721684947?l=statuesque.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://statuesque.blogspot.com/feeds/113285716721684947/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16547207&amp;postID=113285716721684947' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16547207/posts/default/113285716721684947'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16547207/posts/default/113285716721684947'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://statuesque.blogspot.com/2005/11/wake-up.html' title='wake up'/><author><name>pulchritudinous</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01745138746361137024</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16547207.post-113198625959860991</id><published>2005-11-15T00:37:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2005-11-15T00:51:05.506+08:00</updated><title type='text'>muneera's house part 2</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;well its all upside down, maybe you want to start from the bottom of the day's post.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img alt="Image hosted by Photobucket.com" src="http://i17.photobucket.com/albums/b92/magnificence/0055.jpg" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;the pretty moon.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img alt="Image hosted by Photobucket.com" src="http://i17.photobucket.com/albums/b92/magnificence/0054.jpg" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;when we were coming back.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img alt="Image hosted by Photobucket.com" src="http://i17.photobucket.com/albums/b92/magnificence/0053.jpg" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;the camp behind were putting fertilizer and it stinked, so su smelled the chocolate.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img alt="Image hosted by Photobucket.com" src="http://i17.photobucket.com/albums/b92/magnificence/0052.jpg" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and the blame went all over the place.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img alt="Image hosted by Photobucket.com" src="http://i17.photobucket.com/albums/b92/magnificence/0051.jpg" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;thats rashid. he seems scared to be sitting with nusy,&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img alt="Image hosted by Photobucket.com" src="http://i17.photobucket.com/albums/b92/magnificence/0050.jpg" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and she wants him too. he's just in pri 3 nusy!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img alt="Image hosted by Photobucket.com" src="http://i17.photobucket.com/albums/b92/magnificence/0049.jpg" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;the final group photo for the day.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img alt="Image hosted by Photobucket.com" src="http://i17.photobucket.com/albums/b92/magnificence/0048.jpg" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;su just got back from olympics, trying to whack nusy.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img alt="Image hosted by Photobucket.com" src="http://i17.photobucket.com/albums/b92/magnificence/0047.jpg" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;we were waiting for nusy to stand up and pose for  the pic.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img alt="Image hosted by Photobucket.com" src="http://i17.photobucket.com/albums/b92/magnificence/0046.jpg" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;now that she has taken a pic, she has spoiled it by placing her hands that way.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img alt="Image hosted by Photobucket.com" src="http://i17.photobucket.com/albums/b92/magnificence/0044.jpg" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;identify her, she claims this is how she will look when she will get married.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img alt="Image hosted by Photobucket.com" src="http://i17.photobucket.com/albums/b92/magnificence/0043.jpg" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;this is osama's adopted daughter.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img alt="Image hosted by Photobucket.com" src="http://i17.photobucket.com/albums/b92/magnificence/0042.jpg" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;the pic is suppose to include me and yasmin as well, but nusy had to spoil it. doesn't matter su looks good.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img alt="Image hosted by Photobucket.com" src="http://i17.photobucket.com/albums/b92/magnificence/0041.jpg" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;now a pics of us three.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img alt="Image hosted by Photobucket.com" src="http://i17.photobucket.com/albums/b92/magnificence/0040.jpg" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;su with her million dollar smile and yasmin with her sweet face.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img alt="Image hosted by Photobucket.com" src="http://i17.photobucket.com/albums/b92/magnificence/0039.jpg" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and then she started dancing.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img alt="Image hosted by Photobucket.com" src="http://i17.photobucket.com/albums/b92/magnificence/0038.jpg" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;then she got tired and slept.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img alt="Image hosted by Photobucket.com" src="http://i17.photobucket.com/albums/b92/magnificence/0037.jpg" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i don't know what i was doing. its like i'm the wife, complaining about the husband who is always on the com.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img alt="Image hosted by Photobucket.com" src="http://i17.photobucket.com/albums/b92/magnificence/0036.jpg" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;she's the mistress, whose upset that su is married.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img alt="Image hosted by Photobucket.com" src="http://i17.photobucket.com/albums/b92/magnificence/0035.jpg" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;this is what cutting vegetables does to you, look at my tired face and look at yasmin's fresh face.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16547207-113198625959860991?l=statuesque.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://statuesque.blogspot.com/feeds/113198625959860991/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16547207&amp;postID=113198625959860991' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16547207/posts/default/113198625959860991'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16547207/posts/default/113198625959860991'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://statuesque.blogspot.com/2005/11/muneeras-house-part-2.html' title='muneera&apos;s house part 2'/><author><name>pulchritudinous</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01745138746361137024</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16547207.post-113198675547607508</id><published>2005-11-15T00:37:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-11-15T00:49:56.206+08:00</updated><title type='text'>muneera's house part 1</title><content type='html'>&lt;P&gt;&lt;BR&gt;&lt;IMG alt="Image hosted by Photobucket.com" src="http://i17.photobucket.com/albums/b92/magnificence/0033.jpg"&gt;&lt;BR&gt;just look at the both of them.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;P&gt;&lt;BR&gt;&lt;IMG alt="Image hosted by Photobucket.com" src="http://i17.photobucket.com/albums/b92/magnificence/0031.jpg"&gt;&lt;BR&gt;its this charm of hers that makes me want to turn lesbo.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;P&gt;&lt;BR&gt;&lt;IMG alt="Image hosted by Photobucket.com" src="http://i17.photobucket.com/albums/b92/magnificence/0030.jpg"&gt;&lt;BR&gt;she complained about her cramps all day.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;P&gt;&lt;BR&gt;&lt;IMG alt="Image hosted by Photobucket.com" src="http://i17.photobucket.com/albums/b92/magnificence/0029.jpg"&gt;&lt;BR&gt;match made in heaven. when i turn lesbo that is.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;P&gt;&lt;BR&gt;&lt;IMG alt="Image hosted by Photobucket.com" src="http://i17.photobucket.com/albums/b92/magnificence/0022.jpg"&gt;&lt;BR&gt;the scary nirupa was trying to scare me.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;P&gt;&lt;BR&gt;&lt;IMG alt="Image hosted by Photobucket.com" src="http://i17.photobucket.com/albums/b92/magnificence/0020.jpg"&gt;&lt;BR&gt;the hip nusy, when they got obsessed with the curtains.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;P&gt;&lt;BR&gt;&lt;IMG alt="Image hosted by Photobucket.com" src="http://i17.photobucket.com/albums/b92/magnificence/0019.jpg"&gt;&lt;BR&gt;and they also got obsessed with the dumbells. looks like blue boo*s.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;P&gt;&lt;BR&gt;&lt;IMG alt="Image hosted by Photobucket.com" src="http://i17.photobucket.com/albums/b92/magnificence/0018.jpg"&gt;&lt;BR&gt;they got obsessed with shades too.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;P&gt;&lt;BR&gt;&lt;IMG alt="Image hosted by Photobucket.com" src="http://i17.photobucket.com/albums/b92/magnificence/0017.jpg"&gt;&lt;BR&gt;and nusy got obssessed with working out.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;P&gt;&lt;BR&gt;&lt;IMG alt="Image hosted by Photobucket.com" src="http://i17.photobucket.com/albums/b92/magnificence/0012.jpg"&gt;&lt;BR&gt;i wonder why muneera did nto show her teeth.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;P&gt;&lt;BR&gt;&lt;IMG alt="Image hosted by Photobucket.com" src="http://i17.photobucket.com/albums/b92/magnificence/0011.jpg"&gt;&lt;BR&gt;and this is where we started. the 1st group pic of the day.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16547207-113198675547607508?l=statuesque.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://statuesque.blogspot.com/feeds/113198675547607508/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16547207&amp;postID=113198675547607508' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16547207/posts/default/113198675547607508'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16547207/posts/default/113198675547607508'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://statuesque.blogspot.com/2005/11/muneeras-house-part-1.html' title='muneera&apos;s house part 1'/><author><name>pulchritudinous</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01745138746361137024</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16547207.post-113190268530893093</id><published>2005-11-14T01:16:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-11-14T01:56:12.506+08:00</updated><title type='text'>some slap me..</title><content type='html'>i'm bored. i want money. i want to go shopping. i want to buy new clothes. i want to study as well. i want to pick up the pace that i've lost. i want to feel happy again. i need to go shopping. going over to mun's place tmr. can't wait. can't wait for tuesday too, the bowling trip. can't wait for wednesday too, the vaadi-toh yee. vaadi=come girl and toh yee is the name of the place sang nusy and sham stay at. thr will be some masculine energy on that day i suppose. can't wait for thurs too. going shopping with mom, gonna get lots of bling bling and heels. can't wait for friday too, cos its the last day of the week. can't wait for saturday as well, cos its renee's bdae party. well she's my dad's collegue's cute daughter. well thats the week ahead so far. and i like my hair too. it will take 2 weeks to settle down and i guess i can manage. and oh yea, i can't wait for my bdae either. it will be nice to feel 18.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i feel like slapping my face. i shouldn't have read his blog. why the fuck can't i move on. he fucking can't even make up his mind on if he likes his 1st gf or his 2nd gf. and i'm sitting here hoping that i'll see his glimpse even just one more time. i hate myself for loving him. why do i even bother. enough of ranting of this shit. i have to remove his link from my blog. i have to erase him from my mind. i have to put it aside.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16547207-113190268530893093?l=statuesque.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://statuesque.blogspot.com/feeds/113190268530893093/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16547207&amp;postID=113190268530893093' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16547207/posts/default/113190268530893093'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16547207/posts/default/113190268530893093'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://statuesque.blogspot.com/2005/11/some-slap-me.html' title='some slap me..'/><author><name>pulchritudinous</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01745138746361137024</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16547207.post-113171878848164179</id><published>2005-11-11T21:58:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-11-13T04:06:10.803+08:00</updated><title type='text'>hair disaster</title><content type='html'>i cut my hair! ugh i'm looking like a manj** now. so irritating. i told him layer it and he has made it into this weird looking hairdo. went to jo's house after that. had a fab time. we disscussed about next year's JJC's huge production. &lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7227/1573/1600/0306.0.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7227/1573/320/0306.0.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;nisha, me and muneera. this is on jo's swing. she has a fab house.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7227/1573/1600/0307.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7227/1573/320/0307.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;thats jo, muneera and yasmin. disscussion.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7227/1573/1600/0309.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7227/1573/320/0309.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;my darling su. sooooooo handsome.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7227/1573/320/0313.0.jpg" border="0" /&gt;ashritha my dear nai. surprisingly she's thinking.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7227/1573/1600/0314.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7227/1573/320/0314.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;yup, the disscussion continues. jo, tahira, nirupz and yas.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7227/1573/1600/0322.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7227/1573/320/0322.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; jo and muah.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7227/1573/1600/0323.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7227/1573/320/0323.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; thats ash. fooling around.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7227/1573/1600/0320.0.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7227/1573/320/0320.0.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;the three weird poses u can have.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7227/1573/1600/0325.0.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7227/1573/320/0325.0.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; awww...sweet. but i hate my hair.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7227/1573/1600/0324.0.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7227/1573/320/0324.0.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; nusy giving her pose as usual.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7227/1573/1600/0326.0.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7227/1573/320/0326.0.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; us all indianish.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7227/1573/1600/Photo-0132.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7227/1573/320/Photo-0132.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; on nadzirah's b'dae. at west coast.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7227/1573/1600/Photo-0135.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7227/1573/320/Photo-0135.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; playing around.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7227/1573/320/Photo-0123.jpg" border="0" /&gt; nored in the bus on our way to town.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7227/1573/1600/Photo-0126.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7227/1573/320/Photo-0126.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; basically..talk to the hand.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7227/1573/1600/Photo-0127.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7227/1573/320/Photo-0127.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; this is what you do in town.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16547207-113171878848164179?l=statuesque.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://statuesque.blogspot.com/feeds/113171878848164179/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16547207&amp;postID=113171878848164179' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16547207/posts/default/113171878848164179'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16547207/posts/default/113171878848164179'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://statuesque.blogspot.com/2005/11/hair-disaster.html' title='hair disaster'/><author><name>pulchritudinous</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01745138746361137024</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16547207.post-113129679095916042</id><published>2005-11-07T00:25:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-11-13T04:07:09.903+08:00</updated><title type='text'>few things.</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;shopping rocks&lt;/span&gt;. &lt;span style="color:#660000;"&gt;today i and munz realised that. we shopped like some spoilt brats and bought a lot of stuff. and after you buy the things you desire, you feel good. you feel this sense of accomplishment. you feel really happy. along with it also comes the excitement of wearing what you've bought. eternal bliss basically. it was nice to add on to my collection of earrings and clothes and today i also bought this necklace which is pretty long, something i've never tried before. for me, shopping beats boyfriends, stroll down the beach, a good ball game, talking on the phone, even chocolate. but yea they can't beat the other important things in my life like being with my friends and family.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;da was giving me a lecture. yea i know what he expects from me. he just wants to see his daughter grow up perfect. he was upset i had make-up on my face, claimed i should concentrate on my upcoming exams intead of trying to look attractive. he was also expressing his concerns about me being in a relationship. i turned to him, smiled and said don't worry. well yea he should stop worrying. because this is the plan, i'm not getting into one until i find the perfect one. yea i know no one is perfect, but he should at least be perfect enough to be with me for the rest of my life. if not, daddy can find me someone. i hope that doesn't happen but if it does, i'll make sure i date the guy for months 1st. anyway thats later, nothing of my concern.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;PDA. public display of affection. couples holding hands, each other, or whatever other portions of the other's body, inclusive of making out. i only have one word for it, gross. i think its really sick. i mean yea you guys love each other, but for heavens sake, you don't have to show the world that. get a room then. and nowadays people have applied the i-don't-care what-other-people-think attitude. but hey, other people do care about what takes place in front them you know.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330033;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330033;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330033;"&gt;and boys these days. god. do they think by telling me that they love me or that they feel a certain way about me that they have never felt before or that they won't find someone like me will actually make me tell them the same thing? i mean what makes them think that i will say i love you too just because they say it. for heavens sake, millions of fake compliments given to me is not going to make me think that they are so sweet and make me fall in love with them. oh come on, love is definitetly not about that. at least not the one i think i believe in. boys are so capable of lying. its as easy as changing clothes for them. i was telling munz, when these boys chase the girl they want, they treat them like a princess, and once they get them, they become like their pair of jeans or t shirt. treat a girl right boys. learn how to get them. telling me i love you just makes me feel so awkward, and expecting me to say it back without knowing my feelings, or expecting anything from me at this point of time is pointless really. because i believe in chemisty, and i believe all boys stink too, and i also believe i'm not over Mr asshole yet. whatever. i hope he gets back with his ex gf, the one he claims he's so in love with. i don't know what he likes about her. is it her crooked nose or is her spoilt brat behavior or is the bitchiness she has in her or is it the stupid way she treated him. i really don't know. but its depressing to know he picked her over me. once again, whatever. i guess i'd like someone who can sing me the song on my blog now and really mean it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663333;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663333;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663333;"&gt;and there is this disgusting pimple look alike infection on my tummy. i hate it because of three simple reasons. firstly its painful, secondly its gross, and thirdly it will leave a scar behind for a few weeks. krinesh claims its because i have not been drinking enough water and its a boil. vino thinks it might be a pimple. munz is jus grossed out. dad says spray something. mum says put medicine if not i'll bring you to the doctor. thats that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#003300;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#003300;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#003300;"&gt;remind me never to wear heels when i go shopping. my legs are dead. because after the shopping trip with munz baby i met up with my parents and did further shopping. bad idea.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;thats today. basically i only have this to say&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;shopping rocks, heels kill&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;boys stink cos nothing about them is real.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7227/1573/320/Photo-0119.jpg" border="0" /&gt;thats munz, today, in town when we went shopping.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;just a few glimpses from yesterday's party.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7227/1573/320/Photo-0113.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;munz and i. i look retarded. love you begum.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7227/1573/320/Photo-0112.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;the ladies, with munz, sang, sham and ash missing. munz was takin the pic while the other 3 were fashionably late. anyway frm left--&gt;me, yas, nusy, nirupz, su. love em. and no my thighs are not tt huge, they look huge cos of the churidaar. (pants)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7227/1573/320/Photo-0118.0.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;su's curtain fell, so as you can see, su became the hunk, while sangitah and ash were helping at the back.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7227/1573/320/Photo-0114.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ash at the back, yea you're rite, she's pinching her nose. and sang is fixing her hair for the pic, and su is on the chair.&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7227/1573/320/Photo-0117.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;now they are tired.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;thats all the pics i have, more coming once su gives em.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16547207-113129679095916042?l=statuesque.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://statuesque.blogspot.com/feeds/113129679095916042/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16547207&amp;postID=113129679095916042' title='19 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16547207/posts/default/113129679095916042'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16547207/posts/default/113129679095916042'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://statuesque.blogspot.com/2005/11/few-things.html' title='few things.'/><author><name>pulchritudinous</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01745138746361137024</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>19</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16547207.post-113121847962199765</id><published>2005-11-06T02:57:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-11-06T03:21:19.633+08:00</updated><title type='text'>friends..</title><content type='html'>wow...finally after 11 months the nine of us were together again. had dinner at Su's place. friends make so much of a difference in your life. these girls have always been there for me through thick and thin. when i told them that i've been single for the past one month, sang stood up and clapped. but yea, had a great time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i realise, nowadays these boys are getting very daring. yeaterday this contruction worker asked me if i stay at the place i stay. like oh my god, how the fuck does he know where i stay. thats damn freaky. this other idiot, today, was trying for my friend, and the things he said, as if he's so attractive. and my other friend, she was getting stalked. whats wrong with them. do they even think by behaving in such a creepy way we will actually be interested with them. even before that they should look at the mirror first.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;past few days have been hitting the gym, and there is this attractive male species who happens to be there most of the time. he's from raffles, probably already graduated. his arms, wow and his shoulder blades, wow. i'll just work out and drool over him. not that he's that attractive, but i guess nice arms on males attract me. i like nice eyes too. random.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16547207-113121847962199765?l=statuesque.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://statuesque.blogspot.com/feeds/113121847962199765/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16547207&amp;postID=113121847962199765' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16547207/posts/default/113121847962199765'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16547207/posts/default/113121847962199765'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://statuesque.blogspot.com/2005/11/friends.html' title='friends..'/><author><name>pulchritudinous</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01745138746361137024</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16547207.post-113096963232832540</id><published>2005-11-03T05:53:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-11-07T02:09:11.106+08:00</updated><title type='text'>i don't know..</title><content type='html'>and i was this close to changing my blogskin. just when i realised its such a tedious process and i'm really tired right now, i ceased. its five fifty in the morning on the 3rd of november. the rain outside is beautiful. i'm up this late because, i myself don't know. came back late from hari raya shopping and then we watched a video that dada took when he was in india. yes dada is back. he got back this morning.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;my great grandmother was very fortunate. she was 115+ when she passed away a few days back. she died on a perfect day because it is believed that those who depart on that day go straight to heaven. and the sixteen days of her funeral ended jus the day before deepavali. and you know it was such a coincidence that my mum was cleaning up the wardrobe and she found a picture of her. that picture is the only picture on this earth of her when she was alive. and that picture was scanned and sent to india to be used on her funeral. one of the days of her funeral, her spirit came to meet dada and my cousin. they heard her in the middle of the night. we believe that until the completion of the sixteen days, the soul still remains on earth.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;everyone attended her funeral except for me mum and brother. i feel angry and frustrated that i'm the reason why we couldn't be there. i am the reason because it is because of my results that i'm here and not there. and it is because of my results that mum is here and not there. i feel really guilty. the reason why i didn't make it is simple, i was taking things too easy. i thought that once again i'd be able to pull it off by doing last minute work. but thats not the case in a jc, you have to have consistent work. it sucks really to be in this situation because everyone is enjoying while i'm not. my fault really.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;anyway didn't do much on deepavali because we weren't suppose to pray due to the funeral and wasn't in the mood for anything else either. all i did was watch Kal ho na ho and cry all over again. oh and i went temple and gurdwara too, after such a long time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and tomorrow shall be the last day i'd have to do a hindi paper. yes tomorrow is my AO level hindi examination and after that, no more hindi for me. 11 years of hindi school finally coming to an end. throught these 11 years i and srujana have been friends. we've had 5 people walk into and out of our lives but i and her, we've sticked together, through the fights, through the bickering. and she might be the only one who has seen me, as a friend, grow up from a young child, to a young woman. yes i'm turning 18 next month. we went out and talked about the past 11 years. we talked about our future as well. i don't know what it holds but for now, i wish that the wish i made at the fountain in suntec city comes true.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7227/1573/1600/Photo-0108.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7227/1573/320/Photo-0108.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;thats the fountain. my hand, sru's hand.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7227/1573/1600/Photo-0108.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7227/1573/1600/Photo-0108.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7227/1573/320/Photo-0105.0.jpg" border="0" /&gt;BOO BOO from NYDC. lovely.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7227/1573/320/Photo-0106.0.jpg" border="0" /&gt;sru enjoying the boo boo.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7227/1573/320/Photo-0107.0.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;i enjoying boo boo.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7227/1573/320/Photo-0109.0.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;me and her at the fountain.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7227/1573/320/Photo-0104.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;at pastamania.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16547207-113096963232832540?l=statuesque.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://statuesque.blogspot.com/feeds/113096963232832540/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16547207&amp;postID=113096963232832540' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16547207/posts/default/113096963232832540'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16547207/posts/default/113096963232832540'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://statuesque.blogspot.com/2005/11/i-dont-know.html' title='i don&apos;t know..'/><author><name>pulchritudinous</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01745138746361137024</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16547207.post-113067987011195251</id><published>2005-10-30T21:34:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-10-30T21:44:30.123+08:00</updated><title type='text'>the future...</title><content type='html'>and the facts have been put there and some decisions have been made. well lets see, apparently getting into NUS medicine is close to impossible for me. even if i get straight a's. so i've done some thinking, if i don't get into it i'll try overseas. if that doesn't work i'll try for law in NUS, but thats tough too. and if i can't get into that then i'll try for law overseas. and if that does not work i'll try modelling. yea i know what you're thinking, but hey, maybe i can model for my hand or something. anyway if that doesn't work too, then i'll become an air stewardess. there we go. but forget about what doesn't work, first i need to get myself to work. tomorrow is a new day and i priyanka will try my best not to be the lazt self i have been. i will begin the day with some workout, continue with my PW, and then study the subject that after this friday i won't have to touch again in my life, Hindi. and thats the current plan.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i've actually lost the drive, because when the exams were suppose to be in nov, i badly wanted to study, get it over and done with and fly back, but since now i'm not, i've lost the drive. i need to gain back another drive, and it has to start tomorrow. come november things have to change here. look at Mr asshole. apparently he's still in love with the girl he's been insulting the most ever since he has broken up with her, saying she has a crooked nose and really bad legs. well well well, he's in love with her at the end of the day. well i wish him well on trying to get her back and i wish her well too. and for whatever he has done to me and my dear friend, well its not like he's going to be that happy, he'll prolly turn out like his father.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;good luck man!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16547207-113067987011195251?l=statuesque.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://statuesque.blogspot.com/feeds/113067987011195251/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16547207&amp;postID=113067987011195251' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16547207/posts/default/113067987011195251'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16547207/posts/default/113067987011195251'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://statuesque.blogspot.com/2005/10/future.html' title='the future...'/><author><name>pulchritudinous</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01745138746361137024</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16547207.post-113059394029774259</id><published>2005-10-29T21:11:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-10-29T21:52:20.326+08:00</updated><title type='text'>kiss my ass!</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;"&gt;and finally, i hate you. i've found the reason to hate you. and finally i'm moving on. cos i'm tired of hoping for the impossible. and i will pray each day a bitch like you will not be born again. anyway the good news about today is that i've finally lost weight. i've finally hit a forty something. now thats something to be happy about. i also have made a list of things that makes me smile.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;"&gt;1) eating chocolate&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;"&gt;2) watching the rain&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;"&gt;3) watching sunrise&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;"&gt;4) shopping&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;"&gt;5) spending time with my friends&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;"&gt;6) playing pool&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;"&gt;7) making overseas call&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;"&gt;8) looking at kids&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;"&gt;9) playing with dogs&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;"&gt;10) listening to music&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;"&gt;11) dancing&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;"&gt;12) dreaming about nice things&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;"&gt;13) drinking&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;"&gt;14) khathira&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;"&gt;15) shopping&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;"&gt;16) showers&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;"&gt;17) swimming&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;"&gt;18) talkin cock with my thambi&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;"&gt;19) losing weight&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;"&gt;20) clubbing&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;"&gt;21) my family&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;"&gt;22) growing nails&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;"&gt;23) promotion&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;"&gt;24) etc etc&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;"&gt;wel i have so many reasons to smile, so its time i stop not being happy because of one reason and smile for the small things in life. right?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16547207-113059394029774259?l=statuesque.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://statuesque.blogspot.com/feeds/113059394029774259/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16547207&amp;postID=113059394029774259' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16547207/posts/default/113059394029774259'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16547207/posts/default/113059394029774259'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://statuesque.blogspot.com/2005/10/kiss-my-ass.html' title='kiss my ass!'/><author><name>pulchritudinous</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01745138746361137024</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16547207.post-113056057177414319</id><published>2005-10-29T12:10:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-10-29T12:36:11.783+08:00</updated><title type='text'>last nite</title><content type='html'>in the calmness of the night the cool breeze blew through her hair. it felt like the touch of someone special. the touch she would never feel again. the rain dropelts hit her skin like daggers and pierced through her heart, reminding her of the pain bottled up inside. she just wants one opportunity to see him again. just one last time to let it all out. but he's adamant on his decision and he won't do it. she has to live with it, she has only has her memories and the dreams. she has to be content with them because, after all, its better than nothing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i heard his stupid voice last night. it sent my heart racing all over again. and then next moment i realised we're no longer together. can you believe it, he got bored of me? i know this sounds really stupid but i have always had this feeling that he broke up with me for a damn good reason and that he's really trying to pretend to be happy without me. it suddenly dawned on me last night why i still have that something for him. simply because he always gave that image of a perfect boyfriend, someone i'd like to have. maybe thats why.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;now i feel so wrong. its wrong to want you because its something impossible. but since i'm so used to feeling pain, i can actually put this aside. he taught me a lot of things. the truth about men, how to live with my problems and learn to brush them aside, how to live with pain, and how to cherish things. like now, its not about how much time we could'nt spend together, but how much time we have spent together. and end of the day its just memories that will stay with me forever. and when i think of them, it occasionally brings a smile on my face. at least it does right.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i only have two more days because once come november, its back to mugging and staying in school to study my butt off. oh my god i feel like shit.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i need a workout, i need to get some blood flowing.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16547207-113056057177414319?l=statuesque.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://statuesque.blogspot.com/feeds/113056057177414319/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16547207&amp;postID=113056057177414319' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16547207/posts/default/113056057177414319'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16547207/posts/default/113056057177414319'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://statuesque.blogspot.com/2005/10/last-nite.html' title='last nite'/><author><name>pulchritudinous</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01745138746361137024</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16547207.post-113039337885518723</id><published>2005-10-27T13:49:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-10-27T14:09:38.863+08:00</updated><title type='text'>amiss..</title><content type='html'>i feel weird. i've never this way for quite a long time. after a long time i didn't want to wake up in the morning. is it because i'm upset that i won't be able to go back to india this year and meet my sisters. its already been two years and i have to wait for another? or is it because i'm scared of the outcome of my next exams? or is it because of the emptiness i feel inside due to the departure of someone really special two weeks ago from my life? or is it because there is one less family member in my family? or is it because someone thinks he's crazy about me, but he doesn't realise that since i'm planning to stay single, maybe even for the rest of my life, and that i don't trust men at all, he doesn't stand a chance even if he brings me the universe? or is it because someone from my past is trying to toy with my feelings all over again and i don't know how i'm suppose to keep the friendship and lose the toying?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;so is it because of all these reasons that i'm feeling like crap? i don't know. i really don't know.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;back to square one huh.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16547207-113039337885518723?l=statuesque.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://statuesque.blogspot.com/feeds/113039337885518723/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16547207&amp;postID=113039337885518723' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16547207/posts/default/113039337885518723'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16547207/posts/default/113039337885518723'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://statuesque.blogspot.com/2005/10/amiss.html' title='amiss..'/><author><name>pulchritudinous</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01745138746361137024</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16547207.post-113032439058348217</id><published>2005-10-26T18:27:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-10-26T18:59:50.590+08:00</updated><title type='text'>i never thought....</title><content type='html'>today, after such a along time, i actually opened myself to someone. i told him what i've been through. he asked for a chance and i told him i can't because of two reasons. no i've not moved on and no i don't trust men. after hearing me he told me something that hit me like a huge sack filled with cement. "you don't believe in love anymore." now i realise, yea thats true. i don't believe in love anymore.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;what have i become? am i the same priyanka who dreamed of having this perfect relationship with this perfect man who would sing me songs to cheer me up, is there when i need him, will walk a mile to be with me, who understands me, supports me, shares my dreams and aspirations, who will do the wildest thing in the world just to catch a glimpse of my smile, who's faithful and loves me like no other. now i really don't think there is someone who can be anywhere near this. i don't even believe there is such a thing called love. men these days have made it a joke. they love one for a month, love another a month later, is in a relationship with one and flings with another. and they claim they're in love.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i don't have a clean definition of love and i won't say that whatever i've had so far is love. maybe its infactuations, maybe puppy love, maybe lust, maybe crush, i don't know. but i know this for sure, i've tried my best to make things work and the other party never did. maybe thats why it didn't work out. but then again i don't think there is any XY chromosome out there who can actually be a man. they will never really grow up and they will never really be faithful, and i can never trust.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;so i guess its really true, i have changed. i don't know for the better or for worse, but i've stopped believing in something i really used to believe in. love.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;bottled inside are the words i never said&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;the feelings that i hide, the lines you never read&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;you can see it in my eyes, read it on my face&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;trapped inside are lies of the past i can't replace&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;with memories that linger, won't seem to go away&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;why can't i be happy, today is a brand new day&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;yesterdays are over even though the hurtings not&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;nothing lasts forever i must cherish what i've got&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;don't take my love for granted for soon it will be gone&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;all you ever wanted of the love you thought you'd won&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;the hurt i'm feeling now won't dissappear overnight&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;but someway, somehow i hope everything will be all right&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;i should stop wishing for the past it wasn't meant to be&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;it didn't seem to last so i have to set him free.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;all that was &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;was but a lie&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;he is dead&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;and so am i&lt;/em&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16547207-113032439058348217?l=statuesque.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://statuesque.blogspot.com/feeds/113032439058348217/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16547207&amp;postID=113032439058348217' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16547207/posts/default/113032439058348217'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16547207/posts/default/113032439058348217'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://statuesque.blogspot.com/2005/10/i-never-thought.html' title='i never thought....'/><author><name>pulchritudinous</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01745138746361137024</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16547207.post-113016645748512214</id><published>2005-10-24T22:46:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-10-24T23:07:37.490+08:00</updated><title type='text'>smiles</title><content type='html'>PROMOTION PROMOTION PROMOTION!!!&lt;br /&gt;YEAR TWO HERE I COME!!&lt;br /&gt; oh my god finally, my exams are in december, all i have to do is nail it, and i'm going to make sure i do. i feel crappy about the fact that i have to wait a year more to return and that from november all the way to next year november i have to be life-less and study and study and study. but hey, i'm getting prtomoted. ta-da!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;lazed around in school cos i felt really upset that its all the way in december. like even my birthday will be caught up in it. but then again i embraced the fact that i'm getting promoted. went window shopping, have decided what to buy then went to town. wow i met two of my friends after 2 years. it was nice meeting them again. played pool after that, lost but hey i'm improving, and yea, according to him i'm very good for a girl. credit has to go to smitpal and krinesh, they taught me well.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;wow, after such a long time, i'm smiling again. now i realise i just need to be with my friends who have been there for me through all my crisis this year. this year has been screwed up for me and i know how to make sure it isn't screwed up next year. two things, study hard and be single. i'llbe getting 4 boxes of ferrero rocher if i stay single by next year april, which i definitely will. wow imagine the chocolate. heaven baby!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16547207-113016645748512214?l=statuesque.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://statuesque.blogspot.com/feeds/113016645748512214/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16547207&amp;postID=113016645748512214' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16547207/posts/default/113016645748512214'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16547207/posts/default/113016645748512214'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://statuesque.blogspot.com/2005/10/smiles.html' title='smiles'/><author><name>pulchritudinous</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01745138746361137024</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16547207.post-113005585773237252</id><published>2005-10-23T16:23:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-10-23T16:24:17.740+08:00</updated><title type='text'>thats all it takes</title><content type='html'>6 marks. thats all it took to change my life. thats all i needed to get promoted. because of this 6 marks, i had to watch my father depart alone. it was not a nice feeling actually. all i felt was guilt and remorse. yea i could have been with him today. we all could have, mum and bro and me. we all could have attended my great grandmother's funeral. the last time i saw her was two years ago and just because of 6 marks, i can't even attend her funeral.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;its depressing really. now it seems like i'm so used to this emotion because its the only emotion i've been feeling for the past 2 weeks.&lt;br /&gt;depression.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16547207-113005585773237252?l=statuesque.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://statuesque.blogspot.com/feeds/113005585773237252/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16547207&amp;postID=113005585773237252' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16547207/posts/default/113005585773237252'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16547207/posts/default/113005585773237252'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://statuesque.blogspot.com/2005/10/thats-all-it-takes_23.html' title='thats all it takes'/><author><name>pulchritudinous</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01745138746361137024</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16547207.post-112999904580232521</id><published>2005-10-23T00:24:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-10-27T13:16:27.456+08:00</updated><title type='text'>close..</title><content type='html'>covered in purple and jeans, having a physique thats just close to perfect. the type of physique i'd look for. sharing the food, the deserts, the serving, everything made my heart flutter and stomach roll over. when our eyes met for coversations, it was difficult to keep my attention on the speech. what a crush.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;esplanade is beautiful at night. the light, the music, just romantic i must say. but forget men, i had a great time with my classmates. we danced to the live band, felt the breeze through our hair, had great food too, and did i mention how good the desert was.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;dada's going tomorrow. my meeting with the principal is on monday. life's uncertain in every way actually.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16547207-112999904580232521?l=statuesque.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://statuesque.blogspot.com/feeds/112999904580232521/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16547207&amp;postID=112999904580232521' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16547207/posts/default/112999904580232521'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16547207/posts/default/112999904580232521'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://statuesque.blogspot.com/2005/10/close.html' title='close..'/><author><name>pulchritudinous</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01745138746361137024</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16547207.post-112990929914364176</id><published>2005-10-21T23:23:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-10-21T23:51:30.400+08:00</updated><title type='text'>shake it off..</title><content type='html'>my prayers are semi answered. my teacher told me to keep hope and continue working hard. but i'm still scared. because to expect happiness in my life is like expecting rain in the drought. i hope the sun rises again because i've had enough of this darkness and pain. its wearing me down. its leaving me speechless, moodless, appetite-less, filled with nothing but sadness, anger and pain.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i wish i was brought back to that fateful saturday 9 july 2005. i would have made sure i hadn't forgotten my phone in the cab. i would also have made sure i hadn't approached akesh when i saw him at the cinema. i would also have made sure i was not procrastinating and taking things easy when it came to my studies. but its fine. i can't turn back time. i can prevent it from happening again. and thats what i'm going to do. revision has begun. and as for a man in my life, forget it, i'm not interested. i'm gonna stay single as long as i can. i just don't like the XY chromosome as a whole. no matter what, they always seem to never grow up. and i don't think i'll ever be able to find a man good enough for me. not because i think highly of myself but because i think my expectations are high. maybe i should remain a spinster and aspire to become mother theresa.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i think i'm going crazy. i need a break from everything. yea i'm looking forward to tomorrow night, and flying back as well. i hope all goes well.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;i gotta shake you off&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;Gotta make that move&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;Find somebody who&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;Appreciates all the love I give&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;See I grabbed all my diamonds and clothes&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;Just ask your mama she knows&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;You're gonna miss me, baby&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;Hate to say I told you so&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;Well at first I didn't know&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;But now it's clear to me&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;You would cheat with all your freak&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;sAnd lie compulsively&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;So I packed up my Louis Vuitton&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;Jumped in your ride and took off&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;You'll never ever find a girl&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;Who loves you more than me&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16547207-112990929914364176?l=statuesque.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://statuesque.blogspot.com/feeds/112990929914364176/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16547207&amp;postID=112990929914364176' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16547207/posts/default/112990929914364176'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16547207/posts/default/112990929914364176'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://statuesque.blogspot.com/2005/10/shake-it-off.html' title='shake it off..'/><author><name>pulchritudinous</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01745138746361137024</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16547207.post-112982386415195380</id><published>2005-10-20T23:44:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-10-21T00:04:41.376+08:00</updated><title type='text'>i'm waiting...</title><content type='html'>tomorrow is D day. all my one year's work boils down to tomorrow. i hope Mao agrees and lets us at least re-exam. i've started my revision already, in the hope that i will get the chance.it all boils down to tomorrow.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i really hope dad allows saturday to take place. i can't wait for dinner at the esplanade. the evening, the sun setting, a little music, candlelight, just the perfect ambiance. but he's leaving on sunday, maybe thats why he won't allow me to go out. whatever it is, i really hope it takes place. its probably going to be my last night out if my prayers are answered tomorrow.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;help..&lt;/em&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16547207-112982386415195380?l=statuesque.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://statuesque.blogspot.com/feeds/112982386415195380/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16547207&amp;postID=112982386415195380' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16547207/posts/default/112982386415195380'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16547207/posts/default/112982386415195380'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://statuesque.blogspot.com/2005/10/im-waiting.html' title='i&apos;m waiting...'/><author><name>pulchritudinous</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01745138746361137024</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16547207.post-112973553943313068</id><published>2005-10-19T22:42:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-10-19T23:25:39.446+08:00</updated><title type='text'>i learnt..</title><content type='html'>i realised today, there can never be perfection. be it studies, life, humans, situations, relationships, love, trust, men, women, anything actually. everything has imperfections so that we'll constantly try to make things perfect, in the process, learning things, becoming stronger, learning how to handle situations better, etc. when we suffer, some of us think of god and pray to him ever so often to bring us out of the problem. maybe the reason why he gives us the problem in the 1st place is so that we will think of him. we don't think about him as much as we usually do when we are happy do we. maybe by giving us problems, he's just teaching us how to appreciate things better. think about it, you might realise it too.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i'm really upset about whats been happening to my life. whatever i'm feeling now, it is all my fault. the pain from the love, the pain from the procrastination, the pain from a lot of other things, its all a result of my doings. it time i learn from them really.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;there is one thing i hate about myself and that is my lack of discipline. its affecting my life in a lot of ways. the way i make decisions, my habbits, my studies, my personal life. its about time i learn from my mistakes and make as clear decision and stick to it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i thought about it. if god really decides that i should repeat, i will top my class. i don't care if i don't have a life or if i have to look ugly and nerdy. actually i do care about that part. maybe i should try being the pretty nerd. riiiight...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;anyway, there are chances that i'll get a re exam, and i'm so hoping for that, i know if i get that chance, i'm getting promoted. its rather irritating actually. some idiots out there get promoted even if they get straight F-s just because they are in a CCA which requires them to play nationally, so the school promotes them so that they can win awards and bring prestige to the school. that is so unfair really. but then again, when has the world been fair.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;whatever happens, i'll fly off to india after that. i really want to actually. i need a change in environment. i need to become stronger as a person and learn how to live with the pain he brought to me. even if i stab him its nothing compared to the pain he has given me. but why should i become the sinner like him, he'll suffer, some day. cos really, what goes around comes around.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16547207-112973553943313068?l=statuesque.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://statuesque.blogspot.com/feeds/112973553943313068/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16547207&amp;postID=112973553943313068' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16547207/posts/default/112973553943313068'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16547207/posts/default/112973553943313068'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://statuesque.blogspot.com/2005/10/i-learnt.html' title='i learnt..'/><author><name>pulchritudinous</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01745138746361137024</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16547207.post-112964767062127798</id><published>2005-10-18T22:55:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-10-18T23:10:28.050+08:00</updated><title type='text'>i wish</title><content type='html'>i wish that, instead of crossing my mind every min, you'd cross my path.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i wish that, instead of being in my dreams every night, we'd start from the start.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i wish... alot of of things actually. but then again i'm just being plain stupid for wanting you, cos it will never happen will it?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;somebody shoot me!&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16547207-112964767062127798?l=statuesque.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://statuesque.blogspot.com/feeds/112964767062127798/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16547207&amp;postID=112964767062127798' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16547207/posts/default/112964767062127798'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16547207/posts/default/112964767062127798'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://statuesque.blogspot.com/2005/10/i-wish.html' title='i wish'/><author><name>pulchritudinous</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01745138746361137024</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16547207.post-112948163413385041</id><published>2005-10-17T00:22:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-10-17T00:53:54.140+08:00</updated><title type='text'>men</title><content type='html'>men and ego, they walk together, live together, do everything together basically, you can't tear them apart. be it they are 7, 17, 27...77, they will always have their ego with them. i'm not saying females don't have ego, but as comparatively to men it can be negligible.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;when they are 7 its about how their toy gun is much better than the one belonging to the boy in the park. when they are 17, its about how their girlfriend is much hotter than their guy friend's or how they themselves are the most hottest guy around. when they turn 27 its aboout their jobs, when they turn 37 its about how well their kids are doing. when they turn 47 its about how their kids should only follow their orders cos they are the only ones who are right. and the cycle continues.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;its all about the ego at the end of the day. i spend hours explaining to my dad about how stressed my life is and why i am where i am right now, he just cuts me off by saying "this is what is wrong with you, you always argue with me and try to prove me wrong."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i mean i was not trying to prove that he's wrong. i was just trying to explain to him why i am in this situation. but no. i just decided to give up when i realised he's a man after all. i just walked away to my room and did what i've been doing the past one week. cry.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16547207-112948163413385041?l=statuesque.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://statuesque.blogspot.com/feeds/112948163413385041/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16547207&amp;postID=112948163413385041' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16547207/posts/default/112948163413385041'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16547207/posts/default/112948163413385041'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://statuesque.blogspot.com/2005/10/men.html' title='men'/><author><name>pulchritudinous</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01745138746361137024</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16547207.post-112893565041236943</id><published>2005-10-16T17:02:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-10-18T23:16:15.053+08:00</updated><title type='text'>thats it</title><content type='html'>you're just a fucking bitch. the countless number of lies you said, just makes you a big fat loser. your brains too small and its in your dick. no i'm not an angry girl speaking, but whatever that is coming out now are facts and nothing else but facts. love is a joke to you. you say it when you want to don't say it when you want to, pretend to love someone when you want to, pretend not to when you want to. even girls are a joke to you. your lies are like your normal speech.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;just because you're in RJ does not mean you're a big shot. as human being you're a fucking loser. one who does'nt even know how to treat another person. you yourself said you enjoy inflicting pain on others. yes i admit i'd made a mistake by dating you, but i'm gonna try my best to make sure not another girl like me will be with you. yea go ahead, date the fling-ers out there, but not someone like me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;yes to all girls out there, unless you're looking to be a spare tyre for a guy from RJ, who doesn't even know R-E-S-P-E-C-T, for a month, go ahead, date Mr. A***H from RJC.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and you akesh, just watch it. what goes around does come around. what makes you think you'll be happy in future by breaking, not only mine, but three other girl's hearts.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;yea we could have been friends, but you don't even deserve that, because you've lost my respect, totally. you're just too immatured to understand relationships. go ahead run with the pack, play with girls, and watch what happens later.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16547207-112893565041236943?l=statuesque.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://statuesque.blogspot.com/feeds/112893565041236943/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16547207&amp;postID=112893565041236943' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16547207/posts/default/112893565041236943'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16547207/posts/default/112893565041236943'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://statuesque.blogspot.com/2005/10/thats-it.html' title='thats it'/><author><name>pulchritudinous</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01745138746361137024</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16547207.post-112929573542018887</id><published>2005-10-14T21:14:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-10-14T21:47:59.006+08:00</updated><title type='text'>confused..</title><content type='html'>i really don't know where i'm going anymore. i mean how much more worse can my life get. on monday i get the news, i kept strong. i get home i get another news, i'm shattered, i still kept strong, dried my tears and kept hope. now as the days are passing by my hope is dying and i'm becoming more dead. i really don't see a point in living really. its like every night i cry myself to sleep. i realise there is nothing to look forward to the next day. i don't know why i get up and got to school even. i just don't want to live really.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;the girls were so sweet. they made cards for me and muneera to cheer us up and organised "Kottai Sports Day".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img alt="Image hosted by Photobucket.com" src="http://i17.photobucket.com/albums/b92/magnificence/Photo-0045.jpg" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ever seen girls playing soccer, yea it was fun. all of us running from one side of the court to the next. i was the goalkeeper.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img alt="Image hosted by Photobucket.com" src="http://i17.photobucket.com/albums/b92/magnificence/.jpg" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;muneera, sitting down all tired, she was fasting with nisha. but nisha was on the field.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img alt="Image hosted by Photobucket.com" src="http://i17.photobucket.com/albums/b92/magnificence/Photo-0055.jpg" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;moved to badminton court due to some boys. thats ashritha and suhanthi playing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img alt="Image hosted by Photobucket.com" src="http://i17.photobucket.com/albums/b92/magnificence/Photo-0056.jpg" /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photobucket.com/albums/b92/magnificence/?"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;the husband and the pregnant wife.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img alt="Image hosted by Photobucket.com" src="http://i17.photobucket.com/albums/b92/magnificence/ash.jpg" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ash, acting cute as usual.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img alt="Image hosted by Photobucket.com" src="http://i17.photobucket.com/albums/b92/magnificence/ashritha.jpg" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ash, as goalkeeper.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img alt="Image hosted by Photobucket.com" src="http://i17.photobucket.com/albums/b92/magnificence/munz.jpg" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;muneera, giving her superb kick.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img alt="Image hosted by Photobucket.com" src="http://i17.photobucket.com/albums/b92/magnificence/Photo-0057.jpg" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;now she's playing badminton acting cute.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img alt="Image hosted by Photobucket.com" src="http://i17.photobucket.com/albums/b92/magnificence/Photo-0058.jpg" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;thats ash and her sexy legs&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img alt="Image hosted by Photobucket.com" src="http://i17.photobucket.com/albums/b92/magnificence/Photo-0060.jpg" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;my wife going through labour pains&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img alt="Image hosted by Photobucket.com" src="http://i17.photobucket.com/albums/b92/magnificence/Photo-0059.jpg" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;now baby's coming out, can you see it. i mean 'her'&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img alt="Image hosted by Photobucket.com" src="http://i17.photobucket.com/albums/b92/magnificence/soccerteam.jpg" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;yea man we have a soccer team too. although nusy's weird pose is just weird.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img alt="Image hosted by Photobucket.com" src="http://i17.photobucket.com/albums/b92/magnificence/Photo-0061.jpg" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;don't mess with us gals.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://i17.photobucket.com/albums/b92/magnificence/su.jpg" alt="Image hosted by Photobucket.com" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;my handsome Su, playing, erm hand soccer?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img alt="Image hosted by Photobucket.com" src="http://i17.photobucket.com/albums/b92/magnificence/them.jpg" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;the spectators, all worned out&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img alt="Image hosted by Photobucket.com" src="http://i17.photobucket.com/albums/b92/magnificence/threedumbs.jpg" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;three kottais. love ya guys&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img alt="Image hosted by Photobucket.com" src="http://i17.photobucket.com/albums/b92/magnificence/Photo-0062.jpg" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;at nirupa's place. watching cricket and sun tv&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;so yes i returned home in feeling better only to find out my fucking teacher called my dad and told him everything. i've been waiting for the weekend so that i can break the news to him with my brother, so that at least he'll know what to say, unlike me. but no, things had to get worse. and to top it all, my great grandmother passed away.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;now you wonder why i'm saying i don't want to live.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16547207-112929573542018887?l=statuesque.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://statuesque.blogspot.com/feeds/112929573542018887/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16547207&amp;postID=112929573542018887' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16547207/posts/default/112929573542018887'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16547207/posts/default/112929573542018887'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://statuesque.blogspot.com/2005/10/confused.html' title='confused..'/><author><name>pulchritudinous</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01745138746361137024</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16547207.post-112910776614588041</id><published>2005-10-12T16:40:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-10-12T17:02:46.160+08:00</updated><title type='text'>fuck you</title><content type='html'>fuck you! fuck you bitch just fuck you! why can't you fucking stop thinking about him. why can't you stop caring about him. why can't you stop loving him. for what. stop forgetting that he doesn't even care about you. if he did he would at least meet you once, even if it requires him to fight all terrains. if he did he would at least be concerned about what you're going through. if he did he would at least share his problems with you and have faith that you will understand him. if he did he would at least not lie to you about anything, neither suppress any of his emotions inside. if he did he would at least be with you now since you need him the most or even give you the chance to be with him since he needs you the most. if he did he would at least not tell you "i don't love you man."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;that sentence, when you heard it, it sent your world crashing down on you. yea you picked up, yea lemonades, but what the fuck is wrong with you now. why the fuck did u cry last night. why scream to Him whose up there, on how painful it is for you. yea it might be for him too but does he even bother sitting down with you, telling you his problems and giving you the chance to make him feel better?.. NO! because apparently he thinks he can handle it himself. you're not some superman you know, you can't.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;why bother asking god why he's continously giving you nothing else but sorrows and taking away nothing else but your happiness. yea until now you kept on telling yourself its probably because he knows  you're strong enough to handle it and it will make you stronger but fuck man you're not that strong after all. you still fucking care about him and still fucking feel like crap and still fucking wanna meet him one fucking last time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;not only that, now you fucking don't even know if you have to repeat a year of your life or not. its so fucking miserable for you to see everyone else happy and joyous while you are in a screwed up situation. fact is you're not alone. your friend, her parents are getting divorced, her father blames everything on her, she doesn't do that well on her studies and is facing financial problems as well, but she doesn't walk around school like someone died. yea i know you feel like someone died, like someone has taken away your breath, like someone has taken away your life, but it just worries people around you who are concerned about you and your well being.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;maybe you should just shut yourself in a room and sleep. fall into a deep deep sleep and never get up from it. but then again, you don't want to sleep because you know as the night comes, it brings with itself the desire to hear his voice, and if you are not sleepy enough to sleep at night, you'll just die. you'll just die like last night. you'll just have to cry yourself to sleep.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;fuck you bitch just fuck you priyanka..&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16547207-112910776614588041?l=statuesque.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://statuesque.blogspot.com/feeds/112910776614588041/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16547207&amp;postID=112910776614588041' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16547207/posts/default/112910776614588041'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16547207/posts/default/112910776614588041'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://statuesque.blogspot.com/2005/10/fuck-you.html' title='fuck you'/><author><name>pulchritudinous</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01745138746361137024</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16547207.post-112896542289970080</id><published>2005-10-11T01:04:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-10-11T01:40:00.466+08:00</updated><title type='text'>enlightenment</title><content type='html'>When life gives you lemons, make lemonades. Yes, thats what i've realised. I've thought about the whole situation i'm in right now. Its like, i kept asking myself who gave him the right to play with me like that. I suddenly got the answer. I. I gave him the right to play with me. I mean yes he's wrong, but i was not right either. Now i'm looking at the whole situation as a whole. I would not get anything by smacking his face, or by causing any sort of physical pain, because fact is, yes it will hurt, but he'll recover, and nothing will get in his head. I thought about it, its better if i just put this behind me and just be friends instead.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Not only that, i should look at the things i've learnt from it. Whatever that has happened just makes me a stronger and a better person. If i turn around and retaliate instead, i'll just become the sinner, and there will be no difference between me and him. But, if i just walk out of it, its so much better. Yes true he wouldn't be punished in any way, but then again, one day, some day, it will all come back to him. Even if it doesn't, at least i know, deep inside, that i've never toyed with one's feelings. And to be that guilt-free, makes the difference.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Even my examinations, yea fuck i tried so hard, yea i gave it my best shot, yea it still was not good enough, but then again, i still have a chance at it, a re-examination. And this time, i'm going to leave no room for bad results. I have 40 full days and since i have no crap to worry about, its going to be full concentration on my studies. End of the day, its the degree that i'll hold that will stay with me forever, not the man or the empty promises he gives.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In a way, i'm excited. I just want this chance to prove myself that i can do it. I really want a second shot at this. And one things for sure i'm not going to be dating anyone in my years in JC. Relationships at this point of time in life is just screwed up due to 3 things.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1stly--&gt;Most importantly, boys are just immatured at this point, so the only thing the only thing&lt;br /&gt;               they know is play.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2ndly--&gt; My studies are far more important then anything in my life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3rdly--&gt; As much as my father scolds me, fact is he's the only man who loves me dearly and&lt;br /&gt;                 will never leave me, no matter what. Even if i'm the most screwed up daughter he can&lt;br /&gt;                have, he will still love me. And i should at least make him happy by showing him&lt;br /&gt;                results.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You know when you're in a relationship and you have problems, you show it on your face, you get home and show your parents attitude. Ask yourself, what did they do to deserve it. Its the guy that you're dating giving you problems, not your parents. All they've ever done is stood by you and end of the day, no matter how much he claims he loves you, it can never beat the degree of love of your parents to you. So why show them the attitude, when your one smile makes them happy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I feel enlightened really. And i feel so so much stronger. Its like i've grown as a person. Sit down and think about it. Ever wondered why parents discourage relationships at this age, now you know, because they probably know the three things i've stated above.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I love me, man, and i love all the people who have been there for me till today.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've grown, i've made lemonade.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16547207-112896542289970080?l=statuesque.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://statuesque.blogspot.com/feeds/112896542289970080/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16547207&amp;postID=112896542289970080' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16547207/posts/default/112896542289970080'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16547207/posts/default/112896542289970080'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://statuesque.blogspot.com/2005/10/enlightenment.html' title='enlightenment'/><author><name>pulchritudinous</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01745138746361137024</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16547207.post-112868789050693304</id><published>2005-10-07T20:24:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-10-07T20:26:11.170+08:00</updated><title type='text'>bulletin</title><content type='html'>for full details on how the past three weeks went, check out muneera's blog&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16547207-112868789050693304?l=statuesque.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://statuesque.blogspot.com/feeds/112868789050693304/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16547207&amp;postID=112868789050693304' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16547207/posts/default/112868789050693304'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16547207/posts/default/112868789050693304'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://statuesque.blogspot.com/2005/10/bulletin.html' title='bulletin'/><author><name>pulchritudinous</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01745138746361137024</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16547207.post-112861942336011674</id><published>2005-10-07T01:01:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-10-07T01:23:43.370+08:00</updated><title type='text'>what wrong did i do</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#660000;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;in the loneliness of the night i keep asking myself&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#660000;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;what wrong did i do to deserve this pain&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#660000;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;was i wrong to be this madly and deeply in love with you&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#660000;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;or was is that i hoped that this relationship would sustain&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#660000;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#660000;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;in the loneliness of the night i keep asking myself&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#660000;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;what wrong did i do to deserve these heartbreaks&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#660000;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;was i wrong to believe and trust you&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#660000;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;or was i wrong to give the relationship all tt it takes&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#660000;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#660000;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;in the loneliness of the night i keep asking myself&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#660000;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;where was it that i went wrong&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#660000;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;was it when i believed i could actually find someone to love&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#660000;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;or was it when i believed that this would actually last long&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#660000;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#660000;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;in the loneliness of the night i keep asking myself&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#660000;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;is it because i just should never expect happiness&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#660000;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;is it really true that i should never love someone&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#660000;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;or is it really true that all i'd get in life is remorse&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#660000;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#660000;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;in the loneliness of the night i keep asking myself&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#660000;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;why is it that i'm this way&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#660000;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;why is it that my hearts like broken pieces of glass&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#660000;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;why is it that i'm the only one going through this pain&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#660000;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#660000;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;in the loneliness of the night i realise&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#660000;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;at least i held you in arms in my arms yesterday&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#660000;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;at least you still come in my dreams&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#660000;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;at least i can still love you, that way&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#660000;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#660000;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;in the loneliness of the night i pray&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#660000;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;that i get to see you one more time again&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#660000;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;just one last time so that maybe i can convince you back&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#660000;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;or maybe just so that i won't go insane&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#660000;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#660000;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;in the loneliness of the night i realise&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#660000;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;now the misery is neverending&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#660000;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;now i know i'd only want you in my life&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#660000;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;its either you or this cycles ending&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;like you say&lt;br /&gt;all that was&lt;br /&gt;was but a lie&lt;br /&gt;which is true&lt;br /&gt;it was all a lie wasn't it&lt;br /&gt;i should have known its too good to be true&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16547207-112861942336011674?l=statuesque.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://statuesque.blogspot.com/feeds/112861942336011674/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16547207&amp;postID=112861942336011674' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16547207/posts/default/112861942336011674'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16547207/posts/default/112861942336011674'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://statuesque.blogspot.com/2005/10/what-wrong-did-i-do.html' title='what wrong did i do'/><author><name>pulchritudinous</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01745138746361137024</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16547207.post-112860237953649292</id><published>2005-10-06T20:37:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-10-06T20:39:39.540+08:00</updated><title type='text'>dead</title><content type='html'>&lt;em&gt;the sea is green&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;the sky is purple&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;the grass is brown &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;everything is dead&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;i m too&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i don't know what to write, no mood either.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16547207-112860237953649292?l=statuesque.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://statuesque.blogspot.com/feeds/112860237953649292/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16547207&amp;postID=112860237953649292' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16547207/posts/default/112860237953649292'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16547207/posts/default/112860237953649292'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://statuesque.blogspot.com/2005/10/dead.html' title='dead'/><author><name>pulchritudinous</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01745138746361137024</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16547207.post-112850056473103478</id><published>2005-10-05T15:30:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-10-05T16:22:44.740+08:00</updated><title type='text'>i've had enough</title><content type='html'>parents. when they care we complain. when they don't we complain too.&lt;br /&gt;if they care a lot it means they'll want to know whats happening in our lives, and try to control it even. it means that they're looking out for us and watching our every move. those who have them would rather have parents who allow them to live their own lives and do whatever they want.&lt;br /&gt;if parents don't care it means they allow you to do whatever you want, get home whenever you want, run your own life. those who have them would rather have parents who look out for them and tell them whats right from wrong. they'd rather have parents who they know they can fall back on.&lt;br /&gt;fact is no matter how they are, they care a lot about their children. its just that people have different ways of showing them. if your parents stop you from doing something it just means that their just looking out for you and don't want to see you hurt. by scolding you for the bad results you've gotten or for you to study, their just doing it because they know in life you can't get anywhere without qualifications, not because they enjoy scolding you. many things they do is simply because they care, not because they enjoy doing it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;the grass is always greener on the other side, but instead of fretting over what we don't have, we should appreciate the things we do have, and cherish them in our lives.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;yes, the exams are over. but fact is the worry is'n t. first before the exams i had to worry about facing them. now that its over i have to worry about the results. i've been doing badly and its  like my past has come back to haunt me. i really should'nt have wasted my time and not worked hard. now its just too late and promos are over too. yes i did study hard for promos, but if i had done better for my previous exams, it would have been better. now its too late. i just hope everything goes well.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;before the exams, all my problems, i had put them aside. i had to because i realised my exams were far more important then solving them. i've never actually done that because i'm the type of person who likes to solve their problems and move on instead of letting them hover. but now, i'm so used to it. now i don't wanna face any problems. i don't care if theres a problem. i don't want to feel any of the emotions that come with them. i just don't want to see or feel anything. the pain that i know the problems will bring, i don't want to feel it. i've had enough really. i'd rather be emotionless.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;yesterday, the outing with the girls was great. i'll never forget it really. we should do it more often actually. the food at Muthu's curry was fab and the trip to Bugis was wonderful too. i have lots of shopping to do so i guess its time i start saving. ive also finally pierced my ears. boy, was it painful but i like it. and i also finally felt the feeling of smooth legs and neat eyebrows. i've been in a mess for about a month, ever since the mugging began. now, i'm finally neat again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i'm also looking forward to the next two days, have made plans. i want to do all i can this two days, because i know once come saturday its back to work. i really want to do well for my hindi a's and i'm gonna start then. actually now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;thanks muneera, chitra, shruthi, pei ru and gang for yesterday. i had a great time.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Take a minute girl&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Come sit down and tell us what's been happenin'&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;In your face I can see the pain&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Don't try to convince us that you're happy, yeah&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;We've seen this all before but&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;He's taking advantage of your passion&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Because we've come to far for you to feel alone&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;You don't let him walk over your heart, I'm tellin' you&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Girl I can tell that you've been crying And you're needing someone to talk to&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Girl I can tell he's been lying And pretending that he's faithful and he loves you&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Girl You don't have to be hiding&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Don't you be ashamed to say he hurt you I'm your girl, you're my girl, we're your girls&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Want you to know that we love you&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;See what y'all don't know about him&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Is I can't let him go cause he needs me&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;It ain't really him, it's stress from his job&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;And I ain't making it easyI know you see him bugging on me sometimes&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;But he be tired, he don't mean it&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;It gets hard sometimes&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;But I need my manI don't think y'all understand, I'm telling you&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;got this from destiny's child.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16547207-112850056473103478?l=statuesque.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://statuesque.blogspot.com/feeds/112850056473103478/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16547207&amp;postID=112850056473103478' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16547207/posts/default/112850056473103478'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16547207/posts/default/112850056473103478'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://statuesque.blogspot.com/2005/10/ive-had-enough.html' title='i&apos;ve had enough'/><author><name>pulchritudinous</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01745138746361137024</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16547207.post-112818182990806728</id><published>2005-10-01T23:29:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-10-02T03:23:57.026+08:00</updated><title type='text'>love..</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;LOVE. a feeling which can't be described. its when you respect the other, think about the other. when all you want to do is keep the other happy, even if it requires the world. when just to see his or her smile makes your day. when you care for the other's welfare and you appreciate him or her being in your life. the other is like your cup of tea, your life's sunshine, your breath. there are many forms of love. one between family members, one between friends, one for animals, and one for your companion.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;what has the world come to? what has become of relationships? so many bitches out there treat guys like their credit card and so many assholes out there treat girls like their sex machine. why do we get into a relationship in the first place? because we can't spend a min without the other, because being with the other makes you happy, because all you want to do is make the other happy, because theres love. but thats not what relationships seem to be at this era.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;this girl out there. pretty. boyfriend's very ugly. i'm sorry but its a fact. all she does is takes pictures of the countless expensive stuff he has bought her. and he dates her probably because he is aware no one else as pretty as her would date him. he spends the money to keep her. she gives him sex to keep him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i'm not materialistic and i hate girls who date guys for their money. yes, you should buy things for your loved ones, but only because you want to show him or her that you've been thinking about them. love does not equal to expensive things. love is far far far more than that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;some people even wonder how one person can live with the other for the rest of their lives. fact is you can, because you know you're in love when you find a new reason to love the other every day. love does make the world go round. i'd rather have love than money, because you can live without the gucci bag, the prada shoes, and the zara top. but you won't be able to live if you know that there isn't anyone who cares about your existence.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;simply, its time people get out of their shallowness and realise what life really is about.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16547207-112818182990806728?l=statuesque.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://statuesque.blogspot.com/feeds/112818182990806728/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16547207&amp;postID=112818182990806728' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16547207/posts/default/112818182990806728'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16547207/posts/default/112818182990806728'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://statuesque.blogspot.com/2005/10/love.html' title='love..'/><author><name>pulchritudinous</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01745138746361137024</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16547207.post-112808849353947752</id><published>2005-09-30T21:34:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-09-30T22:11:12.423+08:00</updated><title type='text'>this day...</title><content type='html'>Pri-promos battle&lt;br /&gt;Day 1&lt;br /&gt;General Paper&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;with only two hours of sleep that i acquired due to the fact that i was terribly nervous, i sat down in the hall and awaited for my question paper. thankfully paper one was easy. the question i did was "its the only thing the young can do for the old, shock them and keep them up-to -date." paper two however was a killer. i mean i have no idea whats xenophobia and homophobia. maybe its time to expand my vocabulary.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pri-promos battle&lt;br /&gt;Day 2&lt;br /&gt;Biology&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;this time i had three hours of sleep. i was just so so nervous. i was so dazed that while walking to school i actually fell in the drain and now my leg has this bad injury that hurts quite a bit. as for the paper, there is both good news and bad news. the good news is that whatever i studied, thoroughly was out. paper was easy and thanks to Muneera and god's grace, the consultation we had with out bio teacher was extremely helpful. the questions we asked her were exactly what came out. as for the bad news, my stupidity and nervousness led me to leave out 10 questions in the MCQ. i'm so angry with myself for that. i fucking mugged like mad only to throw away ten marks. this happened during O's as well. hopefully paper two will pull it up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;in general the day was fine. i feel so drained now and all thats circling in my head is what happens to glycogen during respiration and the calvin cycle and mitosis and meiosis.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;the significant part of today is took place in SPC outside our school. i and Muneera have been staying in school for the past 3 weeks so all we've have had for dinner is instant cup noodles. we were so not in the mood for it today and neither did we have much money to buy something else. so what we did was we bought packet noodles, the dry type, and ayam brand tuna. detailed description of how we cooked it at SPC should not be given. Khalil and Akram were just laughing at us, but then again, so were we. according to Khalil we created a mayhem there. (check out Muneera's blog for the pics.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;as for the dear friend that has left us, i'm very upset with her. not because she has left us but because she had been thinking about leaving for the past 4 mths and we only get to know about it when she makes her decision. its like she threw it at us and expects us to not react to it. well end of the day its her life, and i guess if she's happy with it, i'll be happy for her. it definitely hurts knowing she's gone but life has changes and i should adapt to them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;other than that i realized today what a mess i am. i look very unkempt. more like i just came out of prison. but doesn't matter, tues shall be the day when i'll look back to normal. i can't wait for our outing at town. i've already decided what to wear.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16547207-112808849353947752?l=statuesque.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://statuesque.blogspot.com/feeds/112808849353947752/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16547207&amp;postID=112808849353947752' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16547207/posts/default/112808849353947752'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16547207/posts/default/112808849353947752'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://statuesque.blogspot.com/2005/09/this-day.html' title='this day...'/><author><name>pulchritudinous</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01745138746361137024</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16547207.post-112783388915849404</id><published>2005-09-27T23:08:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-09-27T23:11:29.163+08:00</updated><title type='text'>i'm trying</title><content type='html'>i'm trying not to let my emotions take a hold of the situation, but fact is i'm fucking fucking pissed. whatever decision made, it makes so much difference to our lives. life won't be the same without you. do you have to go now? i'm trying not to be angry because its something you really want to do and i should respect your decision. maybe i'm angry because you're going, or maybe its because i don't understand why it took you a year to make this life changing decision. i really don't know. all i know is i'm pissed and it will take time for the storm in my head and heart to calm.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;whatever!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16547207-112783388915849404?l=statuesque.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://statuesque.blogspot.com/feeds/112783388915849404/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16547207&amp;postID=112783388915849404' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16547207/posts/default/112783388915849404'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16547207/posts/default/112783388915849404'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://statuesque.blogspot.com/2005/09/im-trying.html' title='i&apos;m trying'/><author><name>pulchritudinous</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01745138746361137024</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16547207.post-112757673297107797</id><published>2005-09-24T23:41:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-09-24T23:45:32.980+08:00</updated><title type='text'>one chance</title><content type='html'>&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;i just want one more chance...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;to embrace you...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;to embrace your love...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;to embrace your touch...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;to embrace you back in life...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;because its not easy...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;and it never will be...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;i just want a chance to see you again...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;and i'll stare into those eyes for hours...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;hoping the sight never leaves my sight...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;i just want one more chance...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16547207-112757673297107797?l=statuesque.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://statuesque.blogspot.com/feeds/112757673297107797/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16547207&amp;postID=112757673297107797' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16547207/posts/default/112757673297107797'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16547207/posts/default/112757673297107797'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://statuesque.blogspot.com/2005/09/one-chance.html' title='one chance'/><author><name>pulchritudinous</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01745138746361137024</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16547207.post-112748661426533102</id><published>2005-09-23T22:03:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-09-23T22:53:48.000+08:00</updated><title type='text'>gossip</title><content type='html'>gossip--Rumor or talk of a personal, sensational, or intimate nature. thats the dictionary definition. fact is we can't stop people from talking. people talk, a lot, and thats a fact of life. i consider myself a nice person. i'm not bragging but i at least don't do the things, the things that i categorize bad people, do. but fact is there are many rumours around. it is possibly because i don't hide my life. people know what happens in it and they talk. be it rumours or what, fact is i can't stop these people. i just don't understand how they can find it fascinating. imean every thing a person says about another is a rumour unless it is confirmed by the person accused. but fact is people don't confirm the rumour before starting them, and thats what i hate. i don't understand what they get out of it but whatever it is, its a fact of life and people are like that. my life is out in the open because i don't do anything that is wrong that i have to hide, but that is what gives people the oppotunity to talk. and i can't stop anyone. fact is it doesn't matter because anyone who believes the rumour without knowing what the truth is is not making a wise decision. but thats people, i can't change them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;but i can change myself and the way i think and thats what i'm trying to do. i don't wanna be bothered about it, because i know that the people who talk about it don't matter and the people in my life won't believe rumours and would actually ask me about it. but then again thats another thing. you don't know who is telling you the truth and who is lying to you. so many times i've had my trust broken and so many times i've been hurt. its come to a point where i've become so numb to it. its really not easy to trust someone. and to break the trust, its equally easy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;anyway other then that, i've made a lot of realisations. i've thought about a lot of things due to the bad occurences in my life and i'm just in awe. how can they even be like that. don't they wonder how we would feel about the situation. i mean they are such complex creatures. they don't know what they want and most have the mentality that now its the time to have fun because in future they can't. they treat us like we're a part of their fun and they can toy with out emotions. we think a million times before hurting them, but they don't even think once before hurting us. why are we to accomodate to them and their lives. the world doesn't revolve around them. its like they never grow up and neither is any sort of maturity reflected in the decisions they make. i'm not saying we're great and that we make perfect decisions, but at least when it involves another person we consider their feelings first, because after all creatures are made of emotions. its not nice hurting someone.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;whats wrong with commitment now. whats wrong with being with someone you really love now. just because we're still young it gives them the authority to play around? does playing around now and being committed later make them a better person? do they even view the number of hearts they break in the process? what makes them think they'll be happy later?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;the world seems to revolve around them but fact is it doesn't, and they fail to realise this.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;thats why thats them and we're us.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;being without you has made me realise, i can't be with anyone else because its you i want to be with.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16547207-112748661426533102?l=statuesque.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://statuesque.blogspot.com/feeds/112748661426533102/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16547207&amp;postID=112748661426533102' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16547207/posts/default/112748661426533102'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16547207/posts/default/112748661426533102'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://statuesque.blogspot.com/2005/09/gossip.html' title='gossip'/><author><name>pulchritudinous</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01745138746361137024</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16547207.post-112722755861646981</id><published>2005-09-20T22:24:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-09-20T22:47:06.116+08:00</updated><title type='text'>the rain</title><content type='html'>as i stood in the rain in the darkness of the night, i realised, its beautiful. it said so many things without even saying a word. when the raindrops trickled down my face and body, it reminded me of the magical touch of my love. as i looked out, into the distance, the darkness and silence of the night reminded me of the emptiness and pain in my heart. the chill of the weather made me long for the arms that used to keep me warm. as the wind echoed in my ears i was reminded of the things my love said. i decided to come out of it when my tears became a part of the rain.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;sometimes i ask myself, what did i do to deserve this pain? its there, deep inside. now its a question of how much you want it. i know you're tired, i know you're exhausted and i know you wanna give up, but its a question of how much you want it, and how much you want to try to get it. anything is possible with much effort and its the effort i want to see, but once again its question of how much you want it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;life has its ups and downs and yes most things that occur are things you can't change or do something about, but turn around and you'll always find me there, to cry or laugh to, to scream or to shout to, i'll be there. i'm sorry for what has happened, i wish i could change things between them, but i can't and the only thing i can do is be there for you. and i hope i can ease the situation with my support.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;make your weakness your strenght, don't run away from the problems, face them. the faster you do the faster it will go away. running is not the solution because it won't remove the problem.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i just got back a while ago and boy am i tired. studying is so draining but i'm not going to give up in this, i'm going to try just like i always do. i'm going to give it my best.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16547207-112722755861646981?l=statuesque.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://statuesque.blogspot.com/feeds/112722755861646981/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16547207&amp;postID=112722755861646981' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16547207/posts/default/112722755861646981'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16547207/posts/default/112722755861646981'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://statuesque.blogspot.com/2005/09/rain.html' title='the rain'/><author><name>pulchritudinous</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01745138746361137024</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16547207.post-112714248808460822</id><published>2005-09-19T23:05:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-09-19T23:08:08.090+08:00</updated><title type='text'>all i can say...</title><content type='html'>all i can say is what goes around comes around. i'm finally fixing my past. figures from my past are coming back in my life. new friends are being formed. all i can say is what goes around comes around.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;its hitting me slowly...the pain is killing me...&lt;/em&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16547207-112714248808460822?l=statuesque.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://statuesque.blogspot.com/feeds/112714248808460822/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16547207&amp;postID=112714248808460822' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16547207/posts/default/112714248808460822'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16547207/posts/default/112714248808460822'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://statuesque.blogspot.com/2005/09/all-i-can-say.html' title='all i can say...'/><author><name>pulchritudinous</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01745138746361137024</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
