tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13632857603448879072024-03-14T07:41:20.215+08:00Girl on the moveI'm a 20 something girl. Stuff happens to me and I write about it.Priyankahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14749322553723914774noreply@blogger.comBlogger51125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1363285760344887907.post-23317169357494019062016-04-02T19:16:00.000+08:002016-08-12T11:02:20.204+08:00When Dawn meets Dusk<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">Time - About 3 years ago. <b>1 am</b> in the morning.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">I remember being enraged. My then boyfriend and I had had a fight, which had ended in me storming out of his apartment in a fit of rage, and realising shortly after, that I had locked myself out with my handbag and keys still inside. It was like those very rare moments in life when things are going so horribly wrong that you stop reacting and become an audience to the whole idiot-fest instead. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">The argument had gotten ugly so I wasn't expecting him to start a search and rescue mission for me anytime soon. There were two locks - one on his front door that locked automatically and required a key to get in, and another guarding the lift lobby which required a separate magnetic card. When I said I had stormed out, I meant all the way out to the street so there was no way I could get back in, or head back to my own place. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">Luckily I remembered his phone number, so I headed to the guard house. There were two guards - one seated with his back towards me and another standing and facing the little window. I asked him if I could use the phone. He recognised me from my previous visits and got an inkling of the situation from my slightly smudged up mascara and frantic mutterings of abuse at every unanswered ring. I tried both my boyfriend's phone and mine but nobody picked up. If I were hulk, that would have been my moment to begin the transformation. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">"Having trouble with your guy?"</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">I looked up.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">The security guard, a young lad in his twenties, wearing an old tweed jacket and grey worn out pants, was giving me the '<i>You poor thing</i>' look. I nodded and told him what had happened. He didn't have the spare keys to help me get in, but he said he could get me through the lift lobby so I could go up to his floor and try knocking on the front door. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">So off we went. Part of me didn't want to face my boyfriend, but the more tired part of me wanted to get hold of my bag and head home to a nice shower and warm milk. He got me through the gate at the lift lobby and I took the lift to level 13 (that should have been a red flag). At this point I believed a 100% that my ordeal was over, that this was it. There was no way he wouldn't hear the knocking, except that's exactly what happened. I knocked, nay, banged against the door, called out his name for several minutes - <i>silence. </i>I was to find out later that my boyfriend had actually not been home then, because he was outside looking for me the whole time. Now that you have this knowledge, it should make him look like less of a villain. However at that point in time, it was almost 2 am and I was seriously beginning to worry. </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">I headed back out for some air.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">"What happened?"</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">It was the guard again. This time his companion, a scruffy looking old man was seated facing my direction, waiting for an answer. He must have been brought up to speed about this situation. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">"He can't hear the knocking I think. The doors too heavy."</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">"Oh dear. Wait I'll get you a seat."</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">He ran to get me a stool and I sat outside the guard house for the next hour talking to the two folks through the tiny window. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">"Your boyfriend is that fella, about yay high, who leaves for work real early dressed in formals right?"</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">"That is precisely right haha"</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">"Well he's funny. I mean this one time, he got trapped in the elevator and called for help and we told him it would be a while till the technician got here and he-" He looked at his older companion and together they burst out laughing.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">"Well what?"</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">"He started crying! We could see him! It was just - oh I'm sorry - it was just so funny."</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">I couldn't help but laugh along with them. I was mad at the guy anyway. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">The young guard went on to tell me about how his girlfriend recently left him for another man.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">"It's the worst. Absolute worst. You seem mad at your guy now but trust me, he seems like a nice bloke. He'll make up for it. Just don't leave him for this. I can't wish this pain upon anyone."</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">I smiled. "I am mad alright, but I'll try to work it out."</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">"That's the spirit! Never give up on people. You want some coffee?"</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">It was close to 3 am and coffee sounded like just what I needed. I nodded and saw him as he got up to take some old sachets of instant coffee out of a drawer and proceeded to heat up some water over an old electric hot plate. It seemed a little unhygienic but I didn't want to sound too arrogant and was just glad that I had someone to talk me through the night.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">A coffee later, he got up and started packing his stuff.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">"End of my shift, lady. It was lovely meeting you. Wish I could have helped."</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">"You did. Thanks for the coffee." He smiled and rode off. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">Just then a car pulled up outside the apartment and a large group of skimpily clad women got out. They, very obviously drunk, staggered towards the lift lobby. I looked at the watch - 3.20 am. Deciding to have one more go at the knocking, I headed towards the lobby, hoping I could follow these ladies in. Turned out, they had seated themselves outside the lobby. I went over and asked if anyone of them had the card to get it. It didn't seem like they understood me. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">"Hey you over there!"</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">One of them, sitting in a corner, heels off, wearing a green off shoulder dress barely reaching her thighs, was calling for me. She looked like she was in her mid-30s.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">"Hi yes I just wanted to know if you guys had the card to get in."</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">"Oh the card. No no no. We're just waiting for this guy, our agent. He'll get us in. He should be here in a minute. Sit."</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">She pulled me down next to her. I complied. I was too tired to care.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">"So what do you do for a living?" She asked</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">"Oh I write code. I'm a software engineer." </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">"Oh my God! Really? You must be so proud! Guys!! She's an engineer!" She announced to the rest of the women and broke into her native language mid-sentence.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">Then turning to me, "We are all from Philippines. We work at this club nearby. It's mainly for rich Japanese businessmen."</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">It made sense all of a sudden. Their attire, the drunken state, the agent. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">"Oh" I didn't know what to say.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">"It's okay. I'm sorry we're all pretty drunk. They actually pay us at the club to make the guys buy us as many drinks as we can, so we always end up like this at the end of the night."</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">"Oh" I still didn't know what to say. Some of the girls were looking at me smiling. I felt like I shouldn't be here having this conversation but maybe it was the lack of sleep or how the preceding moments of the night had passed, I stayed. I knew she just wanted me to listen.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">"You know I have a son." she continued.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">"Oh?" I was genuinely surprised. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">"Yes, back in my home town. He is turning 5 this month." She quickly pulled out an old flip phone and showed me a picture of a young boy standing in a field next to an old lady. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">"That's my mother. I'm not married, so my parents are taking care of my son."</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">"He is adorable." I finally found my voice.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">"Isn't he? You know last month when I went home I asked him what he wanted for his birthday and he said he wanted a bicycle! And I was able to save up enough so I can buy him one! I'M SO HAPPY!"</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">She shouted the last bit and all the girls cheered. I looked around and thought that life was so richly layered.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">"Girls! Let's move!"</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">Their agent - a shabby looking man, wearing a black leather jacket, black jeans - had arrived with the key. I joined them as they entered the lobby. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">"You know we live on the top most floor. You should come with us. You're so sweet."</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">I had to draw the line there. I wasn't that sleepy.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">I got off at level 13 and they shouted good byes and best of lucks at me as the lift doors closed - just what I wanted to hear before diving into a second round of knocking and calling out for my boyfriend - still no response. It was almost 4 and I have no recollection of how I felt. I don't remember feeling anything. The night had been a rollercoaster. I headed out again.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">There was a small playground next to the apartment with a clear view of the street. I went and sat on one of the swings and in a few seconds, spotted my boyfriend walking towards me from the guard house. <i>The older guard must have told him I was here</i>, I remember thinking. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">As he walked closer, I closed my eyes and thought of the young guard making me coffee, serving it in an old cup with a broken handle, of the young woman with a son who was so happy she could afford to buy him a bicycle, of myself knocking repeatedly at the door and not hearing anything back. I felt relief from knowing that soon I would be indoors and tucked in a nice comfortable bed and life would be normal again. But I also felt grateful for having experienced the kindness of strangers. It almost felt like waking up from a dream as I opened my eyes and saw my then boyfriend standing right before me shaking his head.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
Priyankahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14749322553723914774noreply@blogger.com58tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1363285760344887907.post-19410605267417852072016-03-23T20:36:00.000+08:002016-03-23T20:36:05.605+08:00Post-Hiatus<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
I've been out of the writing game for so long, that I wonder if I still have the patience for it. What have I been doing instead you ask? Well you know life - it has a way of making time disappear.<br />
<br />
But in all honesty, I've had many thoughts and experiences along the way that I'd like to dole out in subsequent posts. For now, I'd like to leave you with a recent sketch I drew. You can check out more @<a href="https://www.instagram.com/sketchremix/" target="_blank">sketchremix</a> on Instagram.<br />
<br />
Have a lovely week!<br />
<br />
<br />
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Priyankahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14749322553723914774noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1363285760344887907.post-10124356926494671772014-12-29T16:18:00.000+08:002015-02-18T09:01:15.483+08:00Goodnight Seattle<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<div style="font-family: Calibri; font-size: 11.0pt; margin: 0in;">
The series finale
that marked the end of the 11 year long fun ride that was this show - Frasier. </div>
<div style="font-family: Calibri; font-size: 11.0pt; margin: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-family: Calibri; font-size: 11.0pt; margin: 0in;">
I've always had this
habit of associating television shows,
movies, songs, books with a certain way they make me feel - and when I think of Frasier, I think of the
warm cozy apartment of Elliott Bay Towers and a strange calmness takes over me.
I feel more at ease. That's why Frasier has become my go-to show for when I
am restless or anxious in life.</div>
<div style="font-family: Calibri; font-size: 11.0pt; margin: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-family: Calibri; font-size: 11.0pt; margin: 0in;">
It was for the same
reason I started re-watching the series last month and it worked - like
grandma's home remedy. I was feeling less rushed and my thoughts were more
structured. I devoured through the episodes till I got to the finale, which is
when I noticed something for the first time. </div>
<div style="font-family: Calibri; font-size: 11.0pt; margin: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://media3.s-nbcnews.com/j/msnbc/Components/Photos/040513/040513_frazier_finale_hmed1110a.grid-6x2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://media3.s-nbcnews.com/j/msnbc/Components/Photos/040513/040513_frazier_finale_hmed1110a.grid-6x2.jpg" height="256" width="400" /></a></div>
<div style="font-family: Calibri; font-size: 11.0pt; margin: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-family: Calibri; font-size: 11.0pt; margin: 0in;">
In his farewell
speech, Frasier talks of new beginnings, of taking risks...referring to his
decision to move to a new city, and I couldn't help but feel the same
restlessness seeping in, only this time it wasn't for myself, but for the
character that I had grown to adore. I felt sad for him, scared of what might
become of him, of how he might never actually experience the marital bliss that
his younger brother was finally blessed with, or have the good fortune of
spending his golden years amongst family and loved ones like his father. </div>
<div style="font-family: Calibri; font-size: 11.0pt; margin: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-family: Calibri; font-size: 11.0pt; margin: 0in;">
I realized that I
could never take such a leap unless life forced me to. I could never throw away
the known, the familiar, the safe...for what countless possibilities were out
there. Sure I would wonder, but I would
never have the courage to act. </div>
<div style="font-family: Calibri; font-size: 11.0pt; margin: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-family: Calibri; font-size: 11.0pt; margin: 0in;">
Think of these two
choices. You are well into your 60s and one quiet evening, seated on your
favorite piece of furniture, sipping a hot cup of tea, you are reminiscing
about the years that have gone by, all the summers, all the memories, all the
people you met and you are smiling. Now would you like for those memories,
happy as they are, to be like a few big blocks of events, monotonous at times
but secured to a strong base, or would you like to see them as a million tiny
blocks, all very eventful and thrilling but adrift in space and time ?</div>
<div style="font-family: Calibri; font-size: 11.0pt; margin: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-family: Calibri; font-size: 11.0pt; margin: 0in;">
I'd rather pick the
former and by that I mean, having the majority of one's memories about ONE
place, or ONE person, having a glue to which your whole life is secured,
instead of having a billion memories, each of a different person, or a different
place.</div>
<div style="font-family: Calibri; font-size: 11.0pt; margin: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: 11pt;"> </span></div>
<div style="font-family: Calibri; font-size: 11.0pt; margin: 0in;">
This marks a big
difference between the two brothers on this show as well - while Frasier had a
new love interest every other episode (although always pursued with the utmost
sincerity), Niles always moved from one long term relation to another, often fixating
on making each of them last. What is to be noted is that they each end up with
exactly what they had been working towards - Niles with a wife and a new born and Frasier with a brand new career in a brand new city - both happy with
their share.</div>
<div style="font-family: Calibri; font-size: 11.0pt; margin: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-family: Calibri; font-size: 11.0pt; margin: 0in;">
They stand for the
same daunting choice every person has to make at some point in life - build
upon existing memories or make new ones?</div>
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<br /></div>
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Priyankahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14749322553723914774noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1363285760344887907.post-69401936820354330482014-05-05T14:20:00.001+08:002014-05-05T15:29:33.321+08:00When it hits you<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<span style="color: #444444; font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">This Friday I went down to the Fort Canning park to watch the much awaited <a href="https://www.sistic.com.sg/events/venice0514" target="_blank">Merchant of Venice</a> performed by the talented lot at the Singapore Repertory Theatre. </span><br />
<span style="color: #444444; font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;"></span><br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-KCZfVpUYeB0/U2XTDk4S16I/AAAAAAAAD3A/wDK4_WgU_QQ/s1600/IMG-20140502-WA0002.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-KCZfVpUYeB0/U2XTDk4S16I/AAAAAAAAD3A/wDK4_WgU_QQ/s1600/IMG-20140502-WA0002.jpg" height="150" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Aaaaaaa! Shakespeare!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-uW-PmnfR7RU/U2XS_hVLQ2I/AAAAAAAAD24/YdN_DvtlqQk/s1600/DSC_0059.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-uW-PmnfR7RU/U2XS_hVLQ2I/AAAAAAAAD24/YdN_DvtlqQk/s1600/DSC_0059.jpg" height="225" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">People settling down with their mats and picnic baskets, it was super hot!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Jpik70RKy9c/U2XTDlfXpiI/AAAAAAAAD3E/zRNm9LQaTBM/s1600/IMG-20140502-WA0006.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Jpik70RKy9c/U2XTDlfXpiI/AAAAAAAAD3E/zRNm9LQaTBM/s1600/IMG-20140502-WA0006.jpg" height="480" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The case taking a bow. The play ended close to 11 pm.</td></tr>
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<span style="color: #444444; font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;"></span><br />
<span style="color: #444444; font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">It was a scintillating depiction of the classic play, with a great cast and a wonderful ambiance save for the excessively dry and sultry weather at the beginning of the queue-up. My friend and I reached the venue an hour before the show time, and had to wait outside the park gate for over 30 minutes along with thousands of other Shakespeare enthusiasts. Here's how the conversation went:</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><span style="background-color: #cccccc; color: #444444;"><br /></span><span style="background-color: white; color: #444444;"><b>Friend</b>: Gawd it's hot!</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><span style="background-color: white; color: #444444;"><b>Me</b>: I know! Wish you'd have sneaked some beer from your office..</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><span style="background-color: white; color: #444444;"><b>Friend</b>: Yeah, hope they're selling some inside. I wish I'd picked a different day, school night's always crowded </span></span></div>
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<b style="color: #444444; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Me</b><span style="background-color: white; color: #444444; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">: Oh well. Look at them, taking selfies, posing like idiots, then they'll rush to upload it somewhere and go, 'look at me! I'm so classy and popular' It's such a wannabe age</span></div>
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<b style="color: #444444; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Friend</b><span style="background-color: white; color: #444444; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">: Hahah yeah I can't remember when I was that age..I mean we're only 23 so technically it hasn't been that long </span></div>
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<b style="color: #444444; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Me</b><span style="background-color: white; color: #444444; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">: Right..but it's so true like as you grow older, the younger lot starts to look more and more lame</span></div>
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<b style="color: #444444; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Friend</b><span style="background-color: white; color: #444444; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">: And you wanna say to them, "prance around all you want now! but wait till you start working for that cash.."</span></div>
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<b style="color: #444444; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Me</b><span style="background-color: white; color: #444444; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">: Haha yeah..wow! we sound like an </span><span style="background-color: white; color: #444444; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">old </span><span style="background-color: white; color: #444444; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">grumpy couple</span></div>
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<b style="color: #444444; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Friend</b><span style="background-color: white; color: #444444; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">: Hey! I'm sure I'm younger than a lot of people here *looks around miserably </span></div>
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<b style="color: #444444; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Me</b><span style="background-color: white; color: #444444; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">: Well at least one of them *points to a balding head in the distance</span></div>
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<b style="color: #444444; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Friend</b><span style="background-color: white; color: #444444; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">: *groan</span></div>
<span style="color: #444444; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: #444444; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">It's such a vague transition to the other side of the line. From the insecure rebellious dissatisfied</span><span style="color: #444444; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"> teenage to the more stable and self-assuring young adulthood. Suffice to say, t</span><span style="color: #444444; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">here never was a more varied journey than life. </span></div>
Priyankahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14749322553723914774noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1363285760344887907.post-10220517345774137052014-04-29T16:04:00.000+08:002014-04-29T16:05:27.914+08:00Getting back on the blogging track<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<span style="color: #666666; font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Apologies for a rather long hiatus! Turns out <a href="http://grlonthemuv.blogspot.sg/2013/04/soi-guess-i-quit-facebook.html" target="_blank">leaving facebook</a> drew me away from a lot of social media altogether. It still serves as a most delightful vacuum, but I figured it's time I reignite my love of writing and return to the blogging world. </span></div>
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<span style="color: #666666; font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="color: #666666; font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">This morning I read my last post and realized how far back in time it was. I had yet to sit for my final university exams, or secure a job. I was confused, anxious, eager to get away from the student life and start earning. Now, a little over a year later, I'm sitting at my desk at work. 20 min to go before the lunch break gets over and it dawns on me how much life has changed. </span></div>
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<span style="color: #666666; font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">I'd say the transition from being a student to a full-time working adult was <span style="background-color: white; line-height: 15.600000381469727px;">gratifying</span><span style="background-color: white; line-height: 15.600000381469727px;">. Moving out of the dorm, renting out my own place, managing all the bills, finances, buying groceries, repairing a leaky faucet, moving on from a hundred first dates to a stable relationship..shit got real!</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><span style="color: #666666;"><span style="background-color: white; line-height: 15.600000381469727px;">Let's see if I'm able to </span></span><span style="color: #666666;"><span style="line-height: 15.600000381469727px;">chronicle some of the best/worst moments from the past year and years to come, but rest assured, it feels great to be back!</span></span></span></div>
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Priyankahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14749322553723914774noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1363285760344887907.post-61469387111549952612013-04-22T20:02:00.000+08:002013-04-23T00:35:41.135+08:00So…I guess I quit Facebook<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<br />
<br />
I've been meaning to take this step ever since the beginning of this year. My reasons to go on being a part of this unavailing parade? Friends, Family, Professional connections, Social circles and the general need to "stay in the loop".<br />
<br />
It's no hidden truth that Facebook has swept over the entire world like a giant wave of consumerism, marketing and social media. It's easy to be a part of it because it's free. But you know what they say "If you're not paying for it, then you're not the customer; You're the product being sold."<br />
<br />
The question I most deal with these days is why I took this step. Some of my friends (including my mom) thought that something had "happened". I'm writing this post to clear the air and try to explain myself.<br />
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The thought crossed my mind last week. I pictured how it would be like if I left Facebook. It was random, like a fleeting thought that often crosses a weary mind. I wondered, what if something wonderful happens, what if I decide to take a trip around the world, what if I meet a celebrity, what if really good things start happening; how am I gonna share all that, where will I put all those pictures, all those memories, how will I <i>show-off</i>? How will my 1000+ <i>friends </i>get to know what's going on in my life? I laughed at my haughtiness and brush those thoughts aside.<br />
<br />
Yesterday, however, I wasn't thinking. I logged into Facebook first thing in the morning and disabled my account. Maybe it was easier <i>because</i> I wasn't thinking. I was just consumed by this overwhelming urge to quit the site. Once safe out of its reach, I gathered my thoughts.<br />
<br />
Being <i>friends</i> on Facebook doesn't mean a thing in real life. There were people I was friends with online, whom I never speak with otherwise. It was ridiculous.<br />
<br />
Secondly, it makes it way too easy for people to contact each other. If you wanna see a friend, you get off your ass and walk up to where they are, or at least pick up your damn phone and give them a call. Facebook has literally reduced the sense of friendship to a bunch of digital signals. Instead of bridging the gaps, it has only created more walls.<br />
<br />
There was a girl in one of my classes this semester, whom I saw once a week. We would always sit together, talk about our lives and share a chuckle or two over the jokes that our professor cracked. She was not on Facebook. So I couldn't add her. The first time this hit me, I felt sad that I won't be able to keep in touch with someone I connected so well with. But then we would talk over the phone and hang-out after our class. I would actually look forward to Mondays when I would get to see my friend. It was a different kind of thrill. And rest assured, I felt closer to her than most of my other close friends who're too cool to step off Facebook and spend time in person.<br />
<br />
The truth is, your <i>real</i> friends will always find you. They'll always know <i>what's on your mind. </i>Not because they saw it on their news-feed but because they care enough to actually ask you. They don't need to be reminded that it's your b'day or that they need to wish you new years. They'll always remember.<br />
<br />
Funny thing is I joined Facebook almost 4 years back, right before I started my university life; and I quit now when I am mere weeks away from graduating. It's like the end of an era. I wont be completely starving myself technology-wise though; there're always ways to telecommunicate with your loved ones. All I want now is to focus on living my life, rather than sharing it.<br />
<br /></div>
Priyankahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14749322553723914774noreply@blogger.com14tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1363285760344887907.post-45760685345332072352013-02-21T13:04:00.000+08:002013-02-21T13:08:09.012+08:00Perfection is an illusion<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
There's a lesson I learnt very recently, from a most unexpected source - video games.<br />
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<br />
Craig Benzine or better known as <a href="http://wheezywaiter.com/" target="_blank">WheezyWaiter</a> has never failed to amuse me. While surfing his YouTube channel last week, I stumbled upon a <a href="http://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PLGNe0_lZcY3bxVapETHCv7Altft2aXiGe" target="_blank">playlist </a>of him playing <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Dark_Souls" target="_blank">Dark Souls</a>. A few videos down and I felt that old gamer in me shift a little. I used to play a lot of video games back in high school and then completely stopped after joining university. Well needless to say, I revisited an old steam account, and downloaded the first game I saw in my library: <a href="http://www.elderscrolls.com/oblivion/" target="_blank">The Elder Scrolls IV: Oblivion</a>. I started playing this morning, which went by quicker than I could realize.<br />
<br />
I've always been a cautious player, you know the kind who has one eye on the game and the other switching between the scores and the health/power/strength levels, one who never lets an unopened chest or an unvisited room go by, one who needs to find all the keys, all the treasure, the kind obsessed with perfect scores! I must admit it's hard to enjoy the game, once your attention's split between all the rest.<br />
<br />
There was a simple task I was facing in the game. I was supposed to pick a lock in order to open this chest. It required perfect timing. I was still learning how to do this, so I missed the first few times, but even as I was gaining on the confidence and knowledge, I was losing on the number of attempts I could make, and eventually, I had to pass the chest and move on. I found myself thinking of that chest for the next 20 minutes or so, I felt I couldn't move on until I knew what's in it. I even considered starting the game all over again, just so I could get another shot at it.<br />
<br />
Then I remembered.<br />
<br />
Having watched Craig play for so long, I suddenly remembered his style. He would focus on only one thing: moving on in the game. I would see him miss so many instructions and items on his way (and I would cringe a little) but he would somehow always make up for them later. He would never get stuck. He would go around smashing stuff, figuring things out along the way, making mistakes, learning from them, and never stop having fun!<br />
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There is a lesson to this, don't you think? It reflects a way of life. Unlike in video games, you cannot restart your life, there's no point worrying over the opportunities you missed or the mistakes you made. There's always gonna be a way to make up for them later. There's no going back so you might as well focus on moving forward and enjoying the game for what it's worth.<br />
<br />
I'm gonna forget about that chest and move on.<br />
<br /></div>
Priyankahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14749322553723914774noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1363285760344887907.post-79924058822196980092012-11-22T12:20:00.002+08:002013-09-17T13:07:48.462+08:00The recollection<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
You know one of those scenes in an insanely emotional flick where the protagonist stumbles upon something, an object, a phrase and suddenly he has a detailed and accurate flashback of the story behind it, complete with dialogues and expressions. I never thought that were possible in real life. Needless to say, this post is about how wrong I was.<br />
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This morning, having trudged all the way to the library to carry on with my preparation for the university exams next week, I was pretty groggy and quite plainly stressed. I've always (like millions of other students) had a habit of highlighting my lecture notes. And there I was studying and highlighting my astronomy notes in yellow when a particular incident from my childhood came back to me like a flash and I stopped.<br />
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I was 6. Having submitted an article (more like a bunch of incoherent sentences about something stupid) for a little competition at school, I was told the previous week that it had won a place in my school magazine. I must've been thrilled. I don't remember. At a following event, our principal had read out the names of the winners in his speech, a copy of which was given to all present, which included my mother. That evening at home, she carefully laid out the speech on my desk and asked if she could borrow my yellow crayon. I nodded and handed it over. She then began looking through the 5-page speech. After a couple of moments I heard her go "ahhh!" as she made a thick yellow line over a particular stretch on the page using the yellow crayon. I had no idea what she was doing, but I was curious. So I leaned in and saw the line she had drawn over. It was the part of the principal's speech where he had announced my name. I still didn't get it. I looked up and asked her what the yellow color meant and she said "well it's a way of highlighting something important that you might wanna see again, only you won't have to search for it a second time!" I was swept off by this simple idea. To me, she was a genius.<br />
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Back in the library, still holding that yellow highlighter mid-air, I couldn't believe I had such a fresh account of that memory locked up in my mind somewhere. But having looked back 15 years into the past, I couldn't help but feel humbled and grateful for having all these right forces in my life. I mean I was like a handful of freshly kneaded dough, and thankfully I was shaped in the best ways possible by people who cared and still do. I put the highlighter back, grabbed my phone and got up.<br />
"Where are you going?" my friend asked.<br />
"Just need to call someone who taught me how to highlight."<br />
<br /></div>
Priyankahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14749322553723914774noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1363285760344887907.post-72033060672946561732012-09-10T20:10:00.001+08:002012-09-10T20:10:44.475+08:00People<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
I've been busy. Clearly. And only recently did I happen to realize how much I miss blogging! It was an unintended hiatus and I beg for your pardon.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">What I did, while I wasn't blogging</td></tr>
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So these past few months are spent in travelling, visiting my homeland, and getting started with my final year at college. For some reason it seems like a promising year, I've grown as a person, coming to terms with the way things are and will always be, I've figured out some of my own priorities and dreams, although for most part it still remains an enigma.<br />
<br />
Pretty many thoughts have crossed my mind over this break but given my miniscule-termed memory, it would be an impossible feat to pen them all down separately. So I've decided to categorize these random thoughts under one word "people".<br />
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Born quite normal and alike, people grow on to take the shape of this weird and varied lot. It's always been a habit of mine to just gaze at people (not in a creepy way) specially at public places and observe - observe how they all cling to things that feed their sense of worth, how they try to hide their deepest insecurities and how different they are in their demeanor, yet sharing a connection with each other at some level.<br />
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People think, people communicate, people are privileged enough to be the creators of their own fate. Why is that so hard to comprehend?<br />
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Yesterday a friend informed me about these 2 documentaries that were being screened in town, <a href="http://www.yangoncalling.com/" target="_blank">Yagoon Calling </a>(based on the Punk culture in Burma as of June 2011) and <a href="http://www.wariazone.com/" target="_blank">Wariazone </a>(based on the transgenders in Indonesia). It had been quite some time since I'd given my wholehearted attention to a socio-political issue so I was more than willing to join him. Long story short, the movies were good. I'm probably not gonna review them here for my own thoughts on these matters are not concrete. However, what kept striking me for most part of the evening was how different people are, in their beliefs, in their approach to a problem, even in their sense of who they are. I'm no anthropologist, but it wasn't quite hard to gauge the complexity of my race.<br />
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Recently some of my friends have been feeling under pressure, a few because they can't get their parents to agree with their choice of a life-partner, a few because they've been trying to excel academically for so long that they're exhausted and want to give up, and a few like me, who just can't figure out what they wanna do next!<br />
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If only people could ease-up a little, try to rise above those obsolete social norms, and picture the world in a different light, things could get a lot better.<br />
<br /></div>
Priyankahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14749322553723914774noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1363285760344887907.post-41858721288944632062012-05-25T14:01:00.000+08:002012-05-25T14:06:34.517+08:00Happythankyoumoreplease!<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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This post is about gratitude. Something so simple, yet so rare.<br />
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We have a canteen system in our university. Each one having stalls representing different cuisines. Over the years of feasting at your favorite canteens, you grow familiar with the stall owners. In return they start recognizing you too, often to the extent of catching on with your taste and preparing your order in advance, and if kind and trusting enough, they might sometimes let you pay them later or round up your bills and spare you from rummaging your pockets for change.<br />
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Some of them however make you wonder.<br />
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There's this old chap who mans his stall with the help of an assistant and a cook. If I didn't know any better I'd say he was the reincarnation of grumpy the dwarf. The only thing that makes me look past that perpetual frown on his face, is the mouth-watering assortment of dishes on display at his stall. These few weeks I've been visiting his stall on a regular basis and each day seems to lay on him fresh griefs and miseries. He would be stingy in the portions he gives, would haggle over the prices and always sound pathetic, forgetful and miserable. Almost enough to make you lose your appetite even before the start of your meal. My first reaction towards his behavior was pity. I figured the guy had a lot of troubles to deal with and the least I could do was not hate him for that, but sometimes his insolence would cross the line and I would wonder if things are really that bad or if it's just him.<br />
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They say with gratitude the universe is infinitely abundant.<br />
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There's a metaphysical idea (as showcased in the movie happythankyoumoreplease) that the universe is listening to you, it's always hearing you and so if something great is happening, you can say, "I'm happy! Thank you! n yea yea yea I'll take more of that, I'll order more of that you hear me?" Gratitude is this really powerful force that so few have ever really felt. Like that old guy we're all a little restless and dissatisfied with what we have because everything culturally is trying to show us what we don't -"if only I had that I would be happier" but even after getting that, we wake up the next morning, still unhappy.<br />
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The only worthwhile prayer is a prayer of thanks. To be grateful for what you have and not sad or angry for what you don't. I wish he'd realize that. <br />
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<br /></div>Priyankahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14749322553723914774noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1363285760344887907.post-15772959470714784552012-05-18T09:34:00.000+08:002012-05-18T09:35:52.937+08:00Friendship Friday – The Weekend<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<strong style="background-color: white; color: #111111; font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 16px; line-height: 21px; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px;"><a href="http://www.blogger.com/"><span id="goog_1394813574"></span>Friendship Friday #19 – Week Of May 18, 2012<span id="goog_1394813575"></span></a></strong>
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<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><strong style="margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px;">Food For Thought</strong><br /><em style="margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px;">Weekends don’t count unless you spend them</em><br /><em style="margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px;">doing something completely pointless.</em><br />-Bill Watterson</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><strong style="margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px;">Question Of The Week</strong></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><span style="color: #003366; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px;">What’s your favorite way to spend the weekend?</span><br /><span style="color: #003366; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px;">Do you have anything special planned for this weekend?</span><br /><span style="color: #003366; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px;">What are your favorite weekend activities?</span><br /><span style="color: #003366; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px;">Share your thoughts!</span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #003366; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Truer words were never said <i>*points at the food for thought* </i><br />I end up relaxing, catching up with the week's mails n updates from friends, doing my laundry, watching my favorite tele-series (community, himym, big bang theory, modern family and once upon a time)<br />I usually wake up at 5 am on weekdays to jog for an hour before I head for work, so weekends is when I can wake up whenever the hell I want and eat whatever the hell I desire! Also, Sundays I go swimming.<br />Sometimes I work part-time at Universal Studios or volunteer at SPCA but this weekend's off so I'll probably just laze around and do something pointless :)</span></div>
</div>Priyankahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14749322553723914774noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1363285760344887907.post-2878525450413572692012-05-07T18:02:00.001+08:002012-05-08T16:22:33.577+08:00The most soul crushing series finale - ALF<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
I maybe 12 years late but I don't think my reaction was any different from those countless kids in the 90s who cried themselves to sleep the night the final episode of Alf was aired. The show has been one of those special childhood memories for me but I'd never managed to see the end. Few weeks back I happened to dig up the old episodes and after numerous fits of laughter, I felt myself falling in love with the furry alien wise-guy all over again!<br />
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He stood for everything alien to us, simplicity, innocence, pure joy..I loved to see his take on our day-to-day issues, and realized how easy it all becomes if we for a second, detach ourselves from who we are and think as an alien, like they say, the simplest answer is most likely the right one.<br />
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It was heart-wrenching to watch <span style="font-family: inherit;">him get caught by the Alien Task Force. I couldn't help but cry and feel this immense hatred for my species..why do we have to complicate everything? Sc<span style="font-family: inherit;">ience should be used to help this planet, to help out one another, not to try and probe other life-forms beyond our reach! Reasons like broadening our knowledge, finding the answers..are not worth risking our present for! A recent (and non-fictional) event that comes to mind is North Korea<span style="background-color: white; line-height: 18px; text-align: -webkit-auto;">'s failed rocket launch that costed them a whooping </span></span></span><span style="background-color: white; line-height: 18px; text-align: -webkit-auto;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">£535m. Sure everyone's criticizing the action now, but at some point of time a whole bunch of intelligent and powerful people must have deemed it was a great idea! And what if the launch was successful, nobody would've ridiculed the amount of money that was being blown away then! Why is it that we only learn from our mistakes? Why can't we for once take the simpler route? Try the simplest solutions? Stop running after what is just a vague </span></span><span style="line-height: 18px;">illusion </span><span style="background-color: white; font-family: inherit; line-height: 18px; text-align: -webkit-auto;">and start nourishing what we already have?</span></div>
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<br /></div>Priyankahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14749322553723914774noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1363285760344887907.post-34287441092275677512012-05-02T12:57:00.000+08:002012-05-02T19:22:22.913+08:00Afternoon Ramblings<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<span style="color: #444444;">This is perhaps the first time that I'm writing a blog post without anything on my mind. It's probably gonna end up as a major fail, but who cares? Life is too short to worry about the consequences of things that give you happiness! Like that dessert you skipped last night? Who cares if it makes you fat? You'll get back on your ass and jog it off in a few laps! Take charge of your life, be the person you've always wanted to be! A while back a friend of mine seemed to be worried about this rift she'd had with an old friend of hers. Here's how the conversation went:</span><br />
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<span style="color: #444444;"><i>(friend) </i>"I dunno man, I never have a problem with anybody, she's the only person I've ever managed to have a clash with, I feel I should make things right. I feel like its wrong on my part to not like her over such a small reason"</span> </blockquote>
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<span style="color: #444444;"><br /></span><span style="color: #444444;"><i>(me) </i>"Dude, know that girl from our database lab? Ms.know-it-all? Well I hate her, for existing. Its okay to not like someone sometimes, we're humans, we're complicated, we're not built to get along with everyone"</span> </blockquote>
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<span style="color: #444444;"><br /></span><span style="color: #444444;">"Still man, we were friends once, I mean she did wrong me, but then I just feel like I should forgive her and make it right, you know, like no enemies no hatred?</span> </blockquote>
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<span style="color: #444444;"><br /></span><span style="color: #444444;">"You're just trying to live a saint's life, don't be guilty about things that didn't turn out well, there's a reason behind everything that happens. Clear your heart and let go of the past"</span> </blockquote>
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<span style="color: #444444;">"Okay you're not the right person to talk to about this."</span></blockquote>
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<span style="color: #444444;">So I'm considered the less sentimental one. Whatever. I had a dream about high-school few days back. And waking up, it struck me how long its been, how those days appear to be millions of miles away, how fast everything changes and how little all our worries matter! It was overwhelming but also scary. It's like in the blink of an eye this present will turn into past and all we can do, is give it a longing stare over our shoulders once in a while. As of now, I feel excited to discover how life unfolds for me, there are so many things to do, so many adventures to face, who has the time to count one's enemies?</span><br />
<br /></div>Priyankahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14749322553723914774noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1363285760344887907.post-73056831051722442132012-03-30T09:20:00.000+08:002012-03-30T09:20:27.898+08:00Lights will guide you home<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #666666; font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">So what happens when you're bummed out about something you have no control over? When the only option you're left with is to be patient and have faith...pretty frustrating eh? I've been feeling that way for quite some time now. With most of the things this year not turning out the way I'd planned, and so much else going on alongside, that I was forced to literally take a day off and reflect over things. </span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #666666; font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">Sometimes all you need is a top angle view of your life, to realize how far you've come and that self-doubt is the last thing you deserve. Sometimes all you need are a few good friends to remind you that it's okay to have people who criticize you as long as you have others who believe in you. Sometimes you need to stop comparing yourself to others and understand that you're a special person with your own special story. Sometimes you need to appreciate yourself and take charge of how you spend each moment. Sometimes all you need to do is smile and be glad that you're part of this amazing adventure called life..</span></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-BfVDq-3FYpg/T3UJhV0VOiI/AAAAAAAAAoQ/7oGC5S9sZXk/s1600/little-girl-field.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="262" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-BfVDq-3FYpg/T3UJhV0VOiI/AAAAAAAAAoQ/7oGC5S9sZXk/s400/little-girl-field.jpg" width="400" /></a></div></div>Priyankahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14749322553723914774noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1363285760344887907.post-11325724866360906132012-03-02T12:06:00.002+08:002012-03-03T20:15:01.994+08:00Getting to the top is optional. Getting down is mandatory.<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">Earlier this week a bunch of people and I decided to scale the 884 m high <a href="http://www.malaysia-traveller.com/gunung-datuk.html">Gunung Datuk</a> in Malaysia. Now this being my first hiking experience, I spent several weeks googling anything that might help. It all came down to a few do's and dont's. What these websites never mention however, is how much the right company matters. We were 18 strangers when we left for Malaysia on the morning of Feburary 27th but the next 2 days were to make us really grateful for each other.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">At the start of the hiking trail</td></tr>
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It takes quite a strenuous physical effort to get to the top. And the trail isn't meant for beginners. It's steep all the way up with only rocks and tree-roots as your steps. The group was queued up in a particular order before the hike began so that each could keep a track of the other. I was to be the second from the front. The 4 hour early morning train ride and the bare minimum sleep we all got the previous night did not stand in way of the excitement we all felt standing there.<br />
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Within about 30 minutes however, the excitement was over and I started feeling what any beginner would too on that trail - shortness of breadth and heavy palpitation. The 50L haversack was not helping either. I decided to take a break and drink some water, which by the way was to happen several times along the way, we were all sweating like pigs! <br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">And that's me! Queen of the Jungle! :D</td></tr>
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I can't stress enough on how much it helps to go with the right people! The support and encouragement and the numerous squeals of laughter I drew from my companions are what reduced the feat to a mere trifle. We took about 3 hours to reach the camp site.<br />
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The climb wasn't over because we were yet to reach the summit. Having pitched our tents and sheltered our luggage (it was about to rain), we started mounting the steel ladders and ropes that were to bless us with the most breathtaking view of our lives!<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The Summit (and it was raining!!)</td></tr>
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Later that evening, we had a delightful experience (calling it "dinner" isn't fitting enough). We had enough food with us to last us for a day and a half. With an assortment of noodles, rice, chicken nuggets, sausages, baked beans, soups, marshmallows and fish balls, we started putting together a decent meal. By now everyone was familiar with everyone else, it hardly needed any amount of coordination for us to work in sync. The dishes were being served around and sometimes fed by hand as and when they were prepared. That night those people felt closer than family.<br />
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The stomach's were full, the night was young. Some of us (including myself) climbed back to the summit for some star-gazing. The wind was at its ferocious best, while we were mere specks on those rocks. I was reminded of the movie horton hears a who! and of how little we were before the grand scheme of things. The sky was so clear and the stars were so bright, we laid down flat on those rocks and it felt like I could almost see the entire universe. It was an overwhelming and humbling experience.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Our failed attempt at lighting those lamps (it was wayy too windy)</td></tr>
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We got back to the camp site around midnight, I was planning to wake up early in time to catch the sunrise next day so I slid into my tent and called it a day. I would be lying if I say it was a comfortable night. It was freezing cold and many of us did not carry our sleeping bags to avoid the weight. Result? I was curled up in a ball the whole time.<br />
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A little movement and noise from outside woke me up at around 6. Some of the people were up for sunrise-viewing. I had a tough time deciding if I should join them or go on sleeping for a few more hours. I finally gave into the temptation and dragged myself out of the cozy tent. We climbed up to the summit once again and...I'd say it was worth it :)<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div> <a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-_k7y9peyrws/T1A8hkg4dOI/AAAAAAAAAl4/g0FCWjR-3CQ/s1600/427461_10150555230836191_521151190_9006305_900181937_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="480" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-_k7y9peyrws/T1A8hkg4dOI/AAAAAAAAAl4/g0FCWjR-3CQ/s640/427461_10150555230836191_521151190_9006305_900181937_n.jpg" width="640" /></a><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-GzVtoqpGh2k/T1A8gbeD4YI/AAAAAAAAAls/gFV5UGPqBw0/s1600/420164_10150555233936191_521151190_9006330_1372825881_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-GzVtoqpGh2k/T1A8gbeD4YI/AAAAAAAAAls/gFV5UGPqBw0/s400/420164_10150555233936191_521151190_9006330_1372825881_n.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The Early Risers</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-cGn9gjDDmX0/T1A8g0N8f4I/AAAAAAAAAl0/tVmsKGVPriM/s1600/420648_10150555233226191_521151190_9006325_1319965116_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-cGn9gjDDmX0/T1A8g0N8f4I/AAAAAAAAAl0/tVmsKGVPriM/s400/420648_10150555233226191_521151190_9006325_1319965116_n.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">So happy I wasn't a lazy bum for once!! <span style="text-align: left;"> </span></td></tr>
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So around 8 am we got down to the camp site and started preparing breakfast for ourselves and the other lazy heads who were still sleeping. We had bread, nutella, canned tuna, rice balls, milo, sausages and all of last night's leftovers!<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">On the mountain..or under the sea..nutella with us forever will be..lol</td></tr>
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By 10 am we had packed everything and were ready to start our descent. Now normally people would think that going down is easier. It is in the sense that you don't get as tired and it's faster but at the same time you have a lot more tendency to slip, fall, get hurt, scratch your knees, sprain your ankle or twist your elbow..I did nearly all of those, but it was all in the spirit of adventure, like wounds from the great war that people show off..haha<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-DMWTXEdBltk/T1BAWZ8zQ7I/AAAAAAAAAmg/RqrD9I280oI/s1600/418267_10150555236771191_521151190_9006364_413431164_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="265" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-DMWTXEdBltk/T1BAWZ8zQ7I/AAAAAAAAAmg/RqrD9I280oI/s400/418267_10150555236771191_521151190_9006364_413431164_n.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This is me on my way down</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Tj_lPosRScg/T1BAXtErekI/AAAAAAAAAmw/ZgblKacHobo/s1600/423608_10150555236866191_521151190_9006365_725152428_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="266" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Tj_lPosRScg/T1BAXtErekI/AAAAAAAAAmw/ZgblKacHobo/s400/423608_10150555236866191_521151190_9006365_725152428_n.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This is me slipping</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-bhuS4V34yvQ/T1BAXAXZeeI/AAAAAAAAAmk/-C_p4mnVC38/s1600/420795_10150555237046191_521151190_9006367_1149905962_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-bhuS4V34yvQ/T1BAXAXZeeI/AAAAAAAAAmk/-C_p4mnVC38/s400/420795_10150555237046191_521151190_9006367_1149905962_n.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This is me finally reaching the start! YAY!</td></tr>
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There were shower facilities nearby (which I wasn't aware of earlier so I didn't have any spare clothes to change to), but we all got fresh, took cabs and treated ourselves to a well deserved KFC meal.<br />
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It was a short walk from there to the railway station, and then another 4 hours in the train back to Singapore. It's hard to recount everything that happened in this short journey, but it certainly gave me memories and friends that I'll cherish for a lifetime :)<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Dl3FYyLjbCY/T1BDWej3YfI/AAAAAAAAAnA/RaH9wUv_3UY/s1600/395831_10150555195926191_521151190_9006115_1434736514_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="266" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Dl3FYyLjbCY/T1BDWej3YfI/AAAAAAAAAnA/RaH9wUv_3UY/s400/395831_10150555195926191_521151190_9006115_1434736514_n.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-v5zX23mXTsU/T1BDXpusNzI/AAAAAAAAAnM/PzFtsLCoVtQ/s1600/420085_10150555238811191_521151190_9006389_1710614150_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="266" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-v5zX23mXTsU/T1BDXpusNzI/AAAAAAAAAnM/PzFtsLCoVtQ/s400/420085_10150555238811191_521151190_9006389_1710614150_n.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-bad0PQSKrB0/T1BDYJJburI/AAAAAAAAAnQ/x7fnHCaEGTc/s1600/65740_10150555221426191_521151190_9006255_1212909109_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="354" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-bad0PQSKrB0/T1BDYJJburI/AAAAAAAAAnQ/x7fnHCaEGTc/s640/65740_10150555221426191_521151190_9006255_1212909109_n.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br />
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</div>Priyankahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14749322553723914774noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1363285760344887907.post-12623693553002421032012-01-13T12:44:00.000+08:002012-01-13T12:44:16.420+08:00Friendship Friday 1 - Question Of The Week<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; font-size: large;">What do you love most about blogging?</span></div><div class="separator" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><br class="Apple-interchange-newline" /></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><u><a href="http://www.blogger.com/goog_1743162918"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-6u24-EXq3b0/Tw-y5r7liFI/AAAAAAAAAi8/OGfgsKPlVyw/s1600/Friendship-Friday-Button-1502.png" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" /></a></u></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; font-size: small;"><a href="http://www.create-with-joy.com/2012/01/friendship-friday.html?utm_source=feedburner&utm_medium=feed&utm_campaign=Feed:%20CreateWithJoy%20(Create%20With%20Joy)">Friendship Friday 1 - Weekend Blog Hop</a></span></td></tr>
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</div><span style="color: #444444; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><div style="text-align: center;">I love being a part of a community with varied interests in writing, creativity, food, travel, etc. I feel like I can learn something from everybody here and in turn use it as a canvas to express my own raw n deep-felt emotions. It's a great symbiosis :)</div></span><br />
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</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br />
</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><i>Click on the caption above to participate!</i></span></div></div>Priyankahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14749322553723914774noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1363285760344887907.post-51757358950549824802012-01-11T22:02:00.001+08:002012-01-12T10:04:37.022+08:00I didn't mean to be away for so long!<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-fYooo9cyJPU/Tw2VP2msUoI/AAAAAAAAAi0/lb2t_DYe8_4/s1600/graphics-happy-new-year-420741.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="color: #741b47;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-fYooo9cyJPU/Tw2VP2msUoI/AAAAAAAAAi0/lb2t_DYe8_4/s320/graphics-happy-new-year-420741.gif" width="249" /></span></a></div><span style="color: #741b47; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br />
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<div style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #741b47; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Hope you guys had a wonderful Christmas!! n I wish everyone the best of everything this year! :D n now it's time to apologize for the unannounced hiatus. I was back home n after 6 months of internship (read: waking up at 6 n travelling for 4 hrs every single day) back home means heaven...so yeah I felt like focusing on home n everyone I love, besides it was cold n i turn into a lazy bear when its cold.</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #741b47; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br />
</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #741b47; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Moving on, I'm back to the tropics (n glad to find my hamster alive and kicking, I'd left him with a friend n both of us were literally praying he'd survive my absence! phew!) and with my internship out of the way, I'm resuming my studies starting this week, so there's gonna be plenty of ranting about that!</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #741b47; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br />
</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #741b47; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Meanwhile I'm under the weather and I have a group discussion to participate in at a major firm tomorrow afternoon! Lets just hope I don't make a fool of myself after all the drugs that I'm taking to get well in time! </span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #741b47; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br />
</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #741b47; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Anyway, so the reason I wrote this post was to know your guys' new year resolutions!</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #741b47; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Here are mine,</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #741b47; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br />
</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #741b47; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">1. Have Jessica Alba's body by the end of April</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #741b47; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">2. And that's about it</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #741b47; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br />
</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #741b47; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">This is the first time in my life that I'm going on an official weight loss regime and I'll keep mentioning my progress every once in a while. For now, I'm strictly off carbs n fats, I'm gradually increasing my water intake (believe me I could go on for days without water earlier) and working out on weekdays. Let's see where this takes me :)</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #741b47; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br />
</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #741b47; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">So tell me all about your resolutions or leave me a suggestion for mine!! :D</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #741b47; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br />
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</div></div>Priyankahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14749322553723914774noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1363285760344887907.post-2194707652208173082011-11-20T16:32:00.004+08:002011-11-21T08:56:42.662+08:00Where are those wonder years?<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-YlnC-pL5p-k/Tsi0bMT-JLI/AAAAAAAAAg4/NWCtLtixFTI/s1600/wonderyears1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="251" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-YlnC-pL5p-k/Tsi0bMT-JLI/AAAAAAAAAg4/NWCtLtixFTI/s320/wonderyears1.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Now I don't know how many of you remember the 80s American comedy-drama called <i>The Wonder Years, </i>but it sure was a major part of my childhood when they re-aired it in the 90s. A few weeks back however, I stumbled upon something that reminded me of a scene from the popular show and a few clicks later I found myself going down the memory lane with Kevin, Paul and Winnie. </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Few series have been able to capture the pain and triumph of the </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: white;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">adolescence as The Wonder Years, and fewer still, have been able to touch the audience at those sensitive spots in their hearts. </span></span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: white;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Watching the show again made me feel like I was missing out on so much. I mean seriously, where's the life? We've all turned into this crazy technology driven race with close to no touch with what matters. We've accepted the virtual as the truth. I've been in Singapore for over 2 years now and I can honestly say that if this race were devoid of all the miracles of modern day science, they'd literally just be clueless on how to get on with life. For instance, I travel on the subway quite frequently and all I see are these </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: white; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">zombies trudging to work. T</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: white; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">here is absolutely no sense of community, everyone is drowning into their own gadgets without giving so much as a passing glance to their fellow commuters.</span><br />
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</span></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: white;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Where're those close circle of friends, the actual conversations, the running in the streets, the waiting for a post-card from a long distance friend, the genuine happiness on reconnecting with a loved one, the picnics, the innocence of discovering life at its own pace..</span></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: white;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br />
</span></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: white;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">I'd personally be lost without my PC (I'd also be out of work), but that's not even the sad bit. I've witnessed parents exposing their infants to apps on their iphones and ipads, i mean seriously! What about the good old fashioned legos and train sets? </span></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">I wish life were simpler again..</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: white;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br />
</span></span><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.youtube.com/embed/DKyaubpeEgE?feature=player_embedded' frameborder='0'></iframe></div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">All right maybe the song was a tad bit too depressing but hello! it's been raining 9 hours straight now and rain makes me gloomy and cranky :\ </span></div>Priyankahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14749322553723914774noreply@blogger.com12tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1363285760344887907.post-13846580627796794842011-11-16T16:26:00.002+08:002011-11-17T11:39:43.288+08:00Wordless Wednesday: Winters in my hometown, Kashmir<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-ibsLWrqWO2g/TsNp2QI8I9I/AAAAAAAAAeQ/Xda1nH0sdEU/s1600/1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="456" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-ibsLWrqWO2g/TsNp2QI8I9I/AAAAAAAAAeQ/Xda1nH0sdEU/s640/1.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-SyykHiD29QY/TsNp3bhykYI/AAAAAAAAAeU/Ivggt83lnoU/s1600/2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="425" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-SyykHiD29QY/TsNp3bhykYI/AAAAAAAAAeU/Ivggt83lnoU/s640/2.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-84nmJFylmPU/TsNp328dG6I/AAAAAAAAAec/5vubsKBQYco/s1600/3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="354" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-84nmJFylmPU/TsNp328dG6I/AAAAAAAAAec/5vubsKBQYco/s640/3.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-9I0SL4P8Q0U/TsNp7zcIx9I/AAAAAAAAAfQ/JJ3B459pXAA/s1600/9.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-9I0SL4P8Q0U/TsNp7zcIx9I/AAAAAAAAAfQ/JJ3B459pXAA/s400/9.jpg" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: white; line-height: 19px;">A </span>kanger<span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: white; line-height: 19px; text-align: -webkit-auto;">, kangri, or kangar, a pot filled with hot embers used by Kashmiris beneath their traditional clothing to keep the chill at bay</span></span></td></tr>
</tbody></table><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-6wMVPfVlHEs/TsNp1rODQfI/AAAAAAAAAeI/kYZklK-jfbE/s1600/10.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="424" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-6wMVPfVlHEs/TsNp1rODQfI/AAAAAAAAAeI/kYZklK-jfbE/s640/10.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-Dz7nxJjhB78/TsNwJnUz1LI/AAAAAAAAAfk/EZDsPQXDDIY/s1600/27476_100000225845779_8424_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-Dz7nxJjhB78/TsNwJnUz1LI/AAAAAAAAAfk/EZDsPQXDDIY/s320/27476_100000225845779_8424_n.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: white; font-family: sans-serif; line-height: 19px;">The pinkish colored salted tea called </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: white; line-height: 19px;">"</span>noon chai<span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: white; line-height: 19px; text-align: -webkit-auto;">" </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: white; font-family: sans-serif; line-height: 19px; text-align: -webkit-auto;">or "sheer chai"<br />
</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-ICjzsVGGC5k/TsNwbi4BdkI/AAAAAAAAAf4/hX0Rz6ptRJo/s1600/01+Tea+and+Kashmiri+bread.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="404" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-ICjzsVGGC5k/TsNwbi4BdkI/AAAAAAAAAf4/hX0Rz6ptRJo/s640/01+Tea+and+Kashmiri+bread.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: white; line-height: 19px;"> The traditional kashmiri </span>green tea<span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: white; line-height: 19px; text-align: -webkit-auto;"> made with </span>saffron<span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: white; line-height: 19px; text-align: -webkit-auto;">, spices, and almonds or walnuts, here served with one of many forms of mouth savoring Kashmiri breads.</span></span></td></tr>
</tbody></table><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-aZLGoRsF9GU/TsNwITJ7J2I/AAAAAAAAAfY/F5UcAX9TBuI/s1600/kashmiri-kahva.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="266" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-aZLGoRsF9GU/TsNwITJ7J2I/AAAAAAAAAfY/F5UcAX9TBuI/s400/kashmiri-kahva.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-nmq_NFS4G3Q/TsNp7Fvx31I/AAAAAAAAAfE/VGFwdBwUaXY/s1600/8.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-nmq_NFS4G3Q/TsNp7Fvx31I/AAAAAAAAAfE/VGFwdBwUaXY/s400/8.jpg" width="258" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">The traditional winter wear: Pheren</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-g-m4Ae8WJ2A/TsNp4T1bRwI/AAAAAAAAAek/-L8Yf-YxbxU/s1600/4.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="425" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-g-m4Ae8WJ2A/TsNp4T1bRwI/AAAAAAAAAek/-L8Yf-YxbxU/s640/4.jpg" width="640" /></a><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-AL5XruTwcc0/TsNp5MDX65I/AAAAAAAAAes/XkB1dcFCxSE/s1600/5.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="442" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-AL5XruTwcc0/TsNp5MDX65I/AAAAAAAAAes/XkB1dcFCxSE/s640/5.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br />
<div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><i> </i>The famous Persian poet, Firdaus had said of Kashmir, </span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 22px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><b>Agar Firdaus bar ru-e-zamin ast, Hami ast o- hami ast o- hami ast.</b></span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 22px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">meaning, </span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 22px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><b>If there is heaven on earth, it is here, it is here, it is here.<i>.</i></b></span></span></div><br />
</div>Priyankahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14749322553723914774noreply@blogger.com25tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1363285760344887907.post-79341152993055843872011-11-06T18:25:00.000+08:002011-11-06T18:25:28.191+08:00Lovely, Still<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Hp2Z8cFbfNc/TrZYi_FFhZI/AAAAAAAAAdo/ui99ymnRjjg/s1600/lovely-still-movie-picture-6.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="222" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Hp2Z8cFbfNc/TrZYi_FFhZI/AAAAAAAAAdo/ui99ymnRjjg/s400/lovely-still-movie-picture-6.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: white;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #666666; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; font-size: small; line-height: 17px;"> </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #666666; font-style: italic; line-height: 17px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; font-size: small;">Lonely in life and love, Robert Malone (Martin Landau) braves precarious wintry snow on the walk from his job at the grocery store to his home only to discover a stranger (Ellen Burstyn) in his house. What begins as an awkward encounter quickly blossoms into what appears to be a new chance for romance and the elderly couples love affair takes us on a heartfelt and wonderful journey that reveals an unexpected twist.</span><br />
</span><br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 17px;">For some reason, stories revolving around old age always manage to move me to tears. Not that it's something sad, but the idea of being old, a point from which you can look back at your entire life, all the things you lost, things that made you happy, every single person who touched your heart, is too overwhelming for me. Specially when it comes to an old couple playing the lead in a love story, almost makes you wonder, if you'll ever manage to find someone who'd wanna make it that far with you.</span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 17px;"><br />
</span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 17px;">Ah well, that's just me, somewhere in the middle of a 3-day long (unplanned) weekend, and with hours at hand, I choose to watch the 2008 hit and cry along with Ellen Burstyn every time Martin Landau forgets something (yes its a spoiler) and wonder how life would seem like being at that landmark. I'm only 20 but when I look at my life, there's already this long list of regrets, special moments and days that I'd never forget, so how would it be when I'm 80! Maybe losing half of my memory by then would help keep the nerves calm.</span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 17px;"><br />
</span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 17px;">And I know I know, we should always live in the present, but movies like these really shake your inner conscious and force you to think about life in the broader sense, above the trifles of everyday living, even for a day. I'm pretty sure I would've long forgotten about these emotions, the movie, the story, and everything else by the time I'm back at work on Tuesday, and who knows? maybe I'll read this post again and laugh at myself for being such an emo! But then again, nothing is permanent :)</span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 17px;"><br />
Hope everyone's having a much cooler weekend!</span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 17px;"><br />
</span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 17px;"><br />
</span></span></div></span></td></tr>
</tbody></table></div>Priyankahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14749322553723914774noreply@blogger.com13tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1363285760344887907.post-1843899722488651722011-10-27T09:07:00.000+08:002011-10-27T09:07:47.019+08:00Liebster Blog Award<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">I sure am on a roll this month! A big shout out to Echo @ <a href="http://lifeafterkids-echo.blogspot.com/">Life after kids</a>, thank you soo much for the love!! :)</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-WcUQZiYwunQ/Tqio6IAJ8cI/AAAAAAAAAcQ/Pfv_h2BoAFs/s1600/Gidget_2007_Pixs.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-WcUQZiYwunQ/Tqio6IAJ8cI/AAAAAAAAAcQ/Pfv_h2BoAFs/s1600/Gidget_2007_Pixs.png" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br />
</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Getting to the rules:</span></div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: purple; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: #f9cb9c; font-size: 20px; line-height: 27px;"></span></span><br />
<div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: purple; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">1. Copy and paste the award on your blog.</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: purple; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">2. Thank the giver and link back to the blogger who gave it to you.</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: purple; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">3. Reveal your top 5 picks and let them know by leaving a comment on their blog.</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: purple; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">4. Hope that your followers will spread the love to other bloggers</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: purple; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br />
</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Here are my picks:</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: #f9cb9c; color: purple; font-size: 20px; line-height: 27px;"></span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">1. <a href="http://www.ofwoodsandwords.com/">Of Woods and Words</a></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">2. </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><a href="http://anywhere-is.net/">Anywhere Is...</a></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">3. <a href="http://dategirldiaries.com/">The Date Girl Diaries</a></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">4. <a href="http://www.rwethereyetmom.com/">R We There Yet Mom?</a></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">5. <a href="http://donnashouseonthecorner.blogspot.com/">The House on the Corner</a></span></div><br />
<div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br />
</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Congratulations y'all..!! </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">:)</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br />
</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Spread the word! Spread the love!</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br />
</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">n Have a great weekend!!</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br />
</span></div></div>Priyankahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14749322553723914774noreply@blogger.com14tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1363285760344887907.post-48209333290773028472011-10-22T18:13:00.003+08:002011-11-23T10:31:51.191+08:00So...what do you wanna be when you grow up?<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Haven't we all faced this question like a gazzilion times when we were young? Often drove me crazy cuz I never really knew what to answer. I wanted to be so many different things at once. Here's a list of my standard replies over the years:</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-wUQyznQYrgI/TqKGgxang9I/AAAAAAAAAZ4/pRCnOZe_ciI/s1600/cavt44f5b707bfda3.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-wUQyznQYrgI/TqKGgxang9I/AAAAAAAAAZ4/pRCnOZe_ciI/s1600/cavt44f5b707bfda3.gif" /></a></div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">1. <u>Pilot</u> - I loved the uniform. But dropped the idea eventually when I realized that pilots are actually supposed to <i style="font-weight: bold;">fly, </i>at a great <i><b>height </b></i>above the ground, which even my 6-year old brain could associate with an enormous risk of <i><b>falling</b></i> down.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-2_VpHYKzk0o/TqKWHGWyymI/AAAAAAAAAb4/hpvzfbQRJ0Y/s1600/SATNAV.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="207" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-2_VpHYKzk0o/TqKWHGWyymI/AAAAAAAAAb4/hpvzfbQRJ0Y/s320/SATNAV.png" width="320" /></a></div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">2. <u>Neurologist </u>- Quite a leap I must say. I got this fun-science book on the human body for Christmas (among other cool things okay? I wasn't a nerd) when I was 10 I think, and in that book, I read this term and many fascinating things about this term that went straight over my head but it all sounded so impressive that I just had to pose it as my most probable career option.</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">3. <u>Pediatrician </u>- By now, I <i style="font-weight: bold;">knew </i>what a neurologist actually did and how complex a human brain actually was, and not to forget, I'd gauged exactly how lazy I'd become, so my work <b><i>had </i></b>to be a little more fun than that, and kids are fun! As long as I still got to be a smart-ass <b style="font-style: italic;">doctor, </b>who cared?</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">4. <u>Private Detective</u> - This was the phase where I was on an over-dose of those Enid Blyton books (Famous Five, Secret Seven, The Mystery Series n all), not to forget, the Hardy Boys, Nancy Drew, Agatha Christie and Sherlock Holmes. All in all, I was quite ready to start my own Private Eye Co. I only needed an office, a desk, a magnifying glass and an overcoat. But I never got any of those, so my dream remained a dream *touche*</span><br />
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</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-zpEcxONOvU8/TqKKRrbx0KI/AAAAAAAAAao/QdCbUhpWaGk/s1600/cat-at-veterinarian-prev1260875452I9903H.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-zpEcxONOvU8/TqKKRrbx0KI/AAAAAAAAAao/QdCbUhpWaGk/s200/cat-at-veterinarian-prev1260875452I9903H.jpg" width="175" /></a></div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">5. <u>Veterinarian- </u> I'm mad about animals, love every one of them!! Even the pigs! With their stubby lil noses and cute lil feet which makes it look like they're walking on high heels (anyone ever notice this?) We didn't have a pet when I was really young so I made friends with a few street dogs, they used to follow me back home and I used to feed them. I even had a name for all of them. We moved to a new location eventually though, but on the plus side, I got to have my very own german shepherd! :)</span><br />
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</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-olgTaajwUtE/TqKTQHSXGfI/AAAAAAAAAbo/FA8ByNiMtpY/s1600/128894343716300800.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="216" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-olgTaajwUtE/TqKTQHSXGfI/AAAAAAAAAbo/FA8ByNiMtpY/s320/128894343716300800.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">6. <u>Wildlife Conservationist -</u> To be quite honest, this dream still remains. I'm sure all of us have been hooked to one of those discovery channel or national geographic channel shows where those awesome people get down into the woods, saving animals, protecting the forests, with all their cool gadgets and amazing skills and non-exhaustive knowledge about every leaf in vicinity. Ah, that would be such a life.</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">7. <u>Computer Engineer- </u> Reality Check! Med School was way too long for my liking and everything else too vague. Although this was <b><i>never </i></b>my reply to the above question at any point of time, but this is exactly what I'll end up being when I graduate college next year. Oh well.</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">8. <u>Restaurant Chain Owner- </u> but guess what, I'm still dreaming!! :D so considering how interested I am in my own field, I'm probably gonna stick around for just as long as I earn myself enough independence and security, and then I'll spend all my time and effort on my ultimate love - FOOD!! given of course that I don't change my mind by then, which is a hard thing for me to guarantee.</span><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-NIT-7DEbDc8/TqKNZJlK6RI/AAAAAAAAAbQ/kVxtUW3BD5w/s1600/direction-cartoon.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="252" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-NIT-7DEbDc8/TqKNZJlK6RI/AAAAAAAAAbQ/kVxtUW3BD5w/s320/direction-cartoon.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">So tell me...what are all the wildest/weirdest/variant career prospects that you've considered in your life, or are you the with a one-track mind who always knew what you wanted? :)</span></div>Priyankahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14749322553723914774noreply@blogger.com20tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1363285760344887907.post-53050476267180730472011-10-13T21:01:00.003+08:002011-10-14T10:21:13.348+08:00Pass My Sweatpants (It's PMS time)<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-DdplvxuIY9Q/Tpai5_zXsEI/AAAAAAAAAZc/uL6B9Qiy5Ig/s1600/funny-pictures-girl-lion-yells-at-boy-lion.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="250" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-DdplvxuIY9Q/Tpai5_zXsEI/AAAAAAAAAZc/uL6B9Qiy5Ig/s400/funny-pictures-girl-lion-yells-at-boy-lion.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Never before have I experienced such a horrible PMS in my life! In fact, I'm furiously torturing my keyboard in the aftermath of the same right now! So, where do I begin? One moment life is beautiful, the sky is blue, the birds are singing, the sun is smiling down at us earthly beings and promising a day full of nice delights! But one nasty turn of the calender and the moon strangles the sun, the birds all die, the sky turns murky and life becomes a living hell!</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">As most of y'all know I live in a single room at my university's hostel, which is a great thing considering, well, just <a href="http://grlonthemuv.blogspot.com/2011/10/are-you-sleeping-yes-i-am.html">read this</a>. So earlier this week I lost my door card (or key) while I was at a breakfast with friends. Now given that a card replacement costs 50 freaking bucks, I did a good job at remaining calm (I usually do, I'm a pathetically calm person in the midst of a crisis and very forgiving too, specially when it comes to forgiving myself) and well, I decided to wait for a day before ordering a replacement. Next day at work (I'm interning), everything was great, I finished my assignment early that morning, so by the time it struck noon, I had pretty much nothing to do. That is when it hit me. HARD.</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">A feeling of worthlessness started creeping in, joined by a deep rooted hatred for all things cluttered. The next thing I know I'm clearing my desk like a maniac, shoving everything into the drawers and then organizing the drawers as well. As the day rolled by, I felt more and more useless, and even the teeny little things started annoying the hell outta me, like when one of my neighboring colleagues started drinking water straight from a bottle making that glup-glup-glup noise, I had to use all my strength to hold myself back from punching the bottle into his face! I tried to reason out things and calm down but the more I thought the more I wanted to stop thinking!</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">After what seemed like a lifetime, it struck 6 and I left office, hoping the long journey back to my college would bring some relief to my nerves. However, my i-pod decided to shuffle along with the calender and I spent the next one-and-a-half hours listening to the most depressing songs that I have. I started picturing myself in a movie, having got my heart broken by the non-existent man of my dreams and the sad songs playing in the background, I must've been quite a sight to the fellow commuters. It was in the same trance that I got into an elevator and only when it became too stuffy to breathe did I remember to press the floor number.</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">That night I realized what a disaster my financial planning had been this month! I hadn't saved much and with the room card lost, I had more to pay up! That did it, I was mad, very very mad. I started screaming at no one in particular, and if it were not for a friend who called me right at that moment to discuss a matter completely out-of-context, I would've probably scared poor Ray (my pet hamster) to death. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS';">Now I'm probably dragging this long, but PMS does happen to last for a week, though in my case it was only 2 days, the second being a sort of roller coaster ride. It started quite well with me getting an email from the hostel accommodation office saying that a certain someone (God bless his soul) had found my card and returned it, so now I could collect it from the office the next day, but once I got back from work (remember I had to collect the card the NEXT day so I still didn't have any card with me) turns out that there had been an inspection of all the rooms and mine was unlocked so the kind and cautious souls that the authorities always are, they'd locked it before leaving. So at precisely 8 pm on a Wednesday evening, I was standing outside my room, looking for something I could bang my head against.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS';">After a few minutes and whole lotta cussing, I decided to stay over at a friend's room (2 floors below), and with that I concluded that the world was never getting any better. It was all to go downhill henceforth. But my friend who was in a more stable state of mind had the sense to find the block officer's contact from the university's online directory and suggest that I should call him, which I did and moments later I was climbing up to my room with him and the master key in his pocket. I felt hopeful, almost certainly silly for being so negative, until the point where he, exhausted from all the climbing (my room's on the 5th floor, no elevator) turned to me and said, "It's a miracle that you do this everyday and still you're not slim!"</span><br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-0w-kXRCY0Es/TpbfNI-L9EI/AAAAAAAAAZs/05zz171HLH0/s1600/angry+girl.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-0w-kXRCY0Es/TpbfNI-L9EI/AAAAAAAAAZs/05zz171HLH0/s1600/angry+girl.png" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">If only it were legal to kill..!</span></div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br />
</span></div>Priyankahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14749322553723914774noreply@blogger.com21tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1363285760344887907.post-32182048224605998342011-10-11T10:16:00.004+08:002011-10-11T14:40:08.293+08:00And the award goes to...<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">ME! ME! ME! :D</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">So it happened to be just another lousy morning at work, but a little gesture from the amazing Mikki at <a href="http://momsbestnest.blogspot.com/">Mom's Best Nest</a> totally brightened up the day for me!</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Turns out I've been awarded..</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br />
</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-GiFwV-ue-aA/TpOYQlOX2WI/AAAAAAAAAZM/KcKLOF5lrsk/s1600/Versatileblogger.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-GiFwV-ue-aA/TpOYQlOX2WI/AAAAAAAAAZM/KcKLOF5lrsk/s1600/Versatileblogger.png" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br />
</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">..award.</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">I'd like to seize this opportunity to thank my...versatility!</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">And now it's time to make someone else's day (the best part), so let's get to the rules of this award:</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br />
</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: white;"></span></span></div><div style="line-height: 18px; padding-left: 30px; text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">1. Thank and Link back to the person that gave it to you!</span></div><div style="line-height: 18px; padding-left: 30px; text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">2. Share 7 things about yourself.</span></div><div style="line-height: 18px; padding-left: 30px; text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">3. Send the Versatile Blogger Award on to 15 other bloggers and let them know you have awarded them!</span></div><div style="line-height: 18px; padding-left: 30px; text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br />
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</span></div><div style="line-height: 18px; padding-left: 30px; text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Here are 7 things about myself,</span></div><div style="line-height: 18px; padding-left: 30px; text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br />
</span></div><div style="line-height: 18px; padding-left: 30px; text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">1. I love to day dream, often indulging in elaborate discussions/arguments with the people I'm dreaming about.</span></div><div style="line-height: 18px; padding-left: 30px; text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">2. Nothing gives me more pleasure than being close to nature.</span></div><div style="line-height: 18px; padding-left: 30px; text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">3. I have the attentions span of a goldfish.</span></div><div style="line-height: 18px; padding-left: 30px; text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">4. Je t'aime food. Like for all eternity.</span></div><div style="line-height: 18px; padding-left: 30px; text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">5. Sometimes I wish I were a country girl like <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Heidi">Heidi </a>(the swiss fictional character by Spyri)</span></div><div style="padding-left: 30px; text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 18px;">6. My dream holiday destination for now (refer to point 3) would be Italy.</span></span></div><div style="line-height: 18px; padding-left: 30px; text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">7. I am highly indecisive (took me an hour to come up with these 7 points)</span></div><div style="line-height: 18px; padding-left: 30px; text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br />
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</span></div><div style="line-height: 18px; padding-left: 30px; text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">THE 15 AWESOME BLOGS I CHOOSE:</span></div><div style="line-height: 18px; padding-left: 30px; text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br />
</span></div><div style="line-height: 18px; padding-left: 30px; text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">1. <a href="http://strandupdate.blogspot.com/">Sara's Organized Chaos</a></span></div><div style="line-height: 18px; padding-left: 30px; text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">2. <a href="http://www.chubbycheeksthinks.com/">Chubby Cheeks Thinks</a></span></div><div style="line-height: 18px; padding-left: 30px; text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">3. <a href="http://happy-jeannie.blogspot.com/">Jeannie's Happy World</a></span></div><div style="line-height: 18px; padding-left: 30px; text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">4. <a href="http://leighvslaundry.blogspot.com/">Leigh vs Laundry</a></span></div><div style="line-height: 18px; padding-left: 30px; text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">5. <a href="http://nightowlcrafting.blogspot.com/">Night Owl Crafting</a></span></div><div style="line-height: 18px; padding-left: 30px; text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">6. <a href="http://ourfromnowon.blogspot.com/">La Dolce Vita</a></span></div><div style="line-height: 18px; padding-left: 30px; text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">7. <a href="http://www.theworldasiseeitbloganddesigns.com/">The world as I see it</a></span></div><div style="line-height: 18px; padding-left: 30px; text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">8. <a href="http://anywhere-is.net/">Anywhere Is...</a></span></div><div style="line-height: 18px; padding-left: 30px; text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">9. <a href="http://www.colieskitchen.com/">Colie's Kitchen</a></span></div><div style="line-height: 18px; padding-left: 30px; text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">10. <a href="http://nzeremm.blogspot.com/">One Moment in Time</a></span></div><div style="line-height: 18px; padding-left: 30px; text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">11. <a href="http://www.russetstreetreno.com/">Russet Street Reno</a></span></div><div style="line-height: 18px; padding-left: 30px; text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">12. <a href="http://coloradocastersblog.blogspot.com/">Colorado Casters Blog</a></span></div><div style="line-height: 18px; padding-left: 30px; text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">13. <a href="http://www.messforless.net/">Mess for Less</a></span></div><div style="line-height: 18px; padding-left: 30px; text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">14. <a href="http://ropcorn.com/">Ropcorn</a></span></div><div style="line-height: 18px; padding-left: 30px; text-align: left;">15. <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><a href="http://librarylady64.blogspot.com/">Books and Life</a></span></div><div style="line-height: 18px; padding-left: 30px; text-align: left;"><br />
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</span></div><div style="line-height: 18px; padding-left: 30px; text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Congratulations to all of you! Have a rocking week ahead! :)</span></div><br />
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</div></div>Priyankahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14749322553723914774noreply@blogger.com12tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1363285760344887907.post-3038197561999466242011-10-09T03:25:00.001+08:002011-10-11T12:37:43.418+08:00Are you sleeping? Yes I am.<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">I am a very sensitive sleeper. It's like the moment I lie down and shut my eyes, all my senses become 100x more powerful. I'll be all nice and clean and sleepy and dreamy when going to bed, </span><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-0GN4gRmaZx0/To_WBqes9FI/AAAAAAAAAY4/8oXqzt23Ysc/s1600/1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="370" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-0GN4gRmaZx0/To_WBqes9FI/AAAAAAAAAY4/8oXqzt23Ysc/s400/1.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">but the moment I hit the shack, it's like I'm transformed into an alien creature with extra set of senses,</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="356" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-thnn2GCTAsM/TpCKTpiQ3YI/AAAAAAAAAY8/phN_s6_sP5I/s400/2.jpg" width="400" /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div align="left" class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">so that the minutest sounds like somebody tiptoeing, or whispering, or typing lightly with one's fingertips (read: activities that my ex-roommate was restricted to if she had to stay up past my bed-time), and the tiniest light sources in the room, even if it's the light from the outside corridor sneaking in from under the door, become multifold and are repeatedly sent to my half-asleep mind for processing, so although i'm physically sleeping (read: pretending to sleep) what's actually going on is something like this:</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-G1pvEtcWlq4/TpCSY9qdKzI/AAAAAAAAAZA/eCBXq5unJiY/s1600/3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="307" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-G1pvEtcWlq4/TpCSY9qdKzI/AAAAAAAAAZA/eCBXq5unJiY/s640/3.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Yes, I can tell all of that with my eyes closed (weirdos of the world unite!) I was really lucky to have an understanding room-mate though, she could totally tell when I was pretending to sleep and when I was well and truely out. She tried to make sure she slept at the same time as me, but there were times when that arragement didn't work out and I had to stay-up in my head until she slept, and I didn't have anyone else but my own senses to blame. This year I have a single room and the only person who has to make sure he plays dead while I'm asleep is my pet-hamster (we work out the differences later).</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS';">Last night a friend of mine requested to use my room for a group project work overnight, while I was to sleep in her twin-sharing room. I had had a long day at work, so I thought I'll simply crash at her place earlier and fall asleep before her room-mate comes in and initiates the chain of profound thoughts in my head. But alas! I went to bed at around 10 pm and her roommate come back around 2 am, and as expected, my movement-detection-antennas self-activated and I woke up (only mentally though, please note that I'm a very polite person) and you can probably figure out the rest of the story..</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS';">I'm worried now.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS';">I'm not going to get pitch-black darkness and pin-drop silence EVERY time I go to bed, its time I trained myself in resistence. </span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS';">On second thoughts, maybe the government can use my super-sensory powers!</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-En1uYeqE0lk/TpCeKjymnNI/AAAAAAAAAZE/QG15PTi4jjg/s1600/4.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="291" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-En1uYeqE0lk/TpCeKjymnNI/AAAAAAAAAZE/QG15PTi4jjg/s640/4.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
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</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS';">Who am I kidding! I will never give up my precious sleep to save the world! </span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS';">It's not that I haven't tried sleeping amidst a bit of commotion before, but I've always failed miserably..do you guys have any suggestion?</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS';">I can think of only one possible solution for now,</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
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</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-26RFzf-CRJA/TpCiONyoT4I/AAAAAAAAAZI/st3Ao_LKVH4/s1600/5.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="270" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-26RFzf-CRJA/TpCiONyoT4I/AAAAAAAAAZI/st3Ao_LKVH4/s400/5.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div></div>Priyankahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14749322553723914774noreply@blogger.com12