<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6209156170517866045</id><updated>2012-01-25T00:08:21.679+08:00</updated><title type='text'>da Funk of today</title><subtitle type='html'>Where colours meet and Batman truly exists..</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://chroniclesofnisha.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6209156170517866045/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://chroniclesofnisha.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><link rel='next' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6209156170517866045/posts/default?start-index=101&amp;max-results=100'/><author><name>~ da nISha da sTArZ ~</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17993639223556156336</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_XWMuZATG_so/S5Xm28E19BI/AAAAAAAADZ4/CqjfsZclYZE/S220/Untitled.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>208</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6209156170517866045.post-7728410930598304735</id><published>2011-12-15T18:25:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2012-01-24T22:58:02.036+08:00</updated><title type='text'>One more year, a thousand more milestones. Literally.</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;1 year, 9 destinations, a few thousand kilometres and 9 aeroplane flights later and here I am. A little over a year ago, I wouldn't have imagined that I would have skydived, bungy jumped, water rafted, travelled to europe, slept on the floor of an Austrian train, climbed 600 steps up the Eiffel Tower, run under rain in the midst of bangkok traffic led by local school boys and swam in the sea water of the Gold Coast beaches. Granted, now I'm broke, but what I spent my money on was priceless. I would do it all over again.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;I declare 2011 as my year of travelling, and I hope 2012 will bring just as much unpredictability.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;a href="http://a3.sphotos.ak.fbcdn.net/hphotos-ak-snc6/154263_10150097720227658_570367657_7214687_2704100_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="265" src="http://a3.sphotos.ak.fbcdn.net/hphotos-ak-snc6/154263_10150097720227658_570367657_7214687_2704100_n.jpg" width="400" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td class="tr-caption"&gt;&lt;div style="font-size: 13px;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #741b47;"&gt;Bungy Jumping in NZ: I might give a second thought to this though&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-size: 13px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="font-size: 13px; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;a href="http://a6.sphotos.ak.fbcdn.net/hphotos-ak-snc6/269077_10150324321418169_738813168_9332747_7033972_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="239" src="http://a6.sphotos.ak.fbcdn.net/hphotos-ak-snc6/269077_10150324321418169_738813168_9332747_7033972_n.jpg" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 13px;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #741b47;"&gt;Stranded in traffic: Our adventure in Bangkok&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="font-size: 13px; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://a4.sphotos.ak.fbcdn.net/hphotos-ak-snc7/291797_10150338654697658_570367657_9524878_7212737_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" src="http://a4.sphotos.ak.fbcdn.net/hphotos-ak-snc7/291797_10150338654697658_570367657_9524878_7212737_n.jpg" width="240" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 13px;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #741b47;"&gt;My favorite. Venice.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: small;"&gt;Now its time for resolutions. God dammit, I can't even remember my past year's resolutions, so why even bother. I guess resolutions are a way of focusing your energy and attention toward something that you wish to improve in your life, eventhough half the time it doesn't work.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #741b47; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;"&gt;Here's to a whole new year of fun, joy, tears, and excitement. And God forbid, let it not be the year the world ends.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6209156170517866045-7728410930598304735?l=chroniclesofnisha.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://chroniclesofnisha.blogspot.com/feeds/7728410930598304735/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6209156170517866045&amp;postID=7728410930598304735' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6209156170517866045/posts/default/7728410930598304735'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6209156170517866045/posts/default/7728410930598304735'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://chroniclesofnisha.blogspot.com/2011/12/one-more-year-thousand-more-milestones.html' title='One more year, a thousand more milestones. Literally.'/><author><name>~ da nISha da sTArZ ~</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17993639223556156336</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_XWMuZATG_so/S5Xm28E19BI/AAAAAAAADZ4/CqjfsZclYZE/S220/Untitled.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6209156170517866045.post-407707356458402861</id><published>2011-11-04T10:32:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2011-11-04T10:32:04.412+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Sentimentality at its best.</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: white; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11px; line-height: 14px;"&gt;A hard disk can be thought of as a person. From the moment you get it, you fill it up with knowledge (documents) and even give it memories (photos). You take care of it like a baby, always making sure it is safe somewhere. Sometimes it has sleepovers with other hard disks (when you lend it to someone). For years it is with you, until that one fatal day when it crashes and all your memory might be lost. Then, its time to ask yourself this: revive it or replace it? Which would you choose?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6209156170517866045-407707356458402861?l=chroniclesofnisha.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://chroniclesofnisha.blogspot.com/feeds/407707356458402861/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6209156170517866045&amp;postID=407707356458402861' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6209156170517866045/posts/default/407707356458402861'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6209156170517866045/posts/default/407707356458402861'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://chroniclesofnisha.blogspot.com/2011/11/sentimentality-at-its-best.html' title='Sentimentality at its best.'/><author><name>~ da nISha da sTArZ ~</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17993639223556156336</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_XWMuZATG_so/S5Xm28E19BI/AAAAAAAADZ4/CqjfsZclYZE/S220/Untitled.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6209156170517866045.post-8140110790251077108</id><published>2011-10-07T15:21:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2011-10-07T15:30:39.978+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-rGg1rkV2tJQ/To6e2FwS3AI/AAAAAAAADbU/GLdDS4gerCM/s1600/grand+2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-rGg1rkV2tJQ/To6e2FwS3AI/AAAAAAAADbU/GLdDS4gerCM/s1600/grand+2.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #3d85c6; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Venice, oh Venice. I'll be back for you one day.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6209156170517866045-8140110790251077108?l=chroniclesofnisha.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://chroniclesofnisha.blogspot.com/feeds/8140110790251077108/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6209156170517866045&amp;postID=8140110790251077108' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6209156170517866045/posts/default/8140110790251077108'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6209156170517866045/posts/default/8140110790251077108'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://chroniclesofnisha.blogspot.com/2011/10/venice-oh-venice.html' title=''/><author><name>~ da nISha da sTArZ ~</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17993639223556156336</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_XWMuZATG_so/S5Xm28E19BI/AAAAAAAADZ4/CqjfsZclYZE/S220/Untitled.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-rGg1rkV2tJQ/To6e2FwS3AI/AAAAAAAADbU/GLdDS4gerCM/s72-c/grand+2.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6209156170517866045.post-7357186037526657439</id><published>2011-10-07T14:26:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2011-10-07T14:27:52.933+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Wow! Did Blogger go through a transformation or WHAT?&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Aaaaaaanddddd.....Nisha is back! And rolling!&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" &gt; And unnoticed.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" &gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" &gt;Life couldn't be betaaaaaa.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6209156170517866045-7357186037526657439?l=chroniclesofnisha.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://chroniclesofnisha.blogspot.com/feeds/7357186037526657439/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6209156170517866045&amp;postID=7357186037526657439' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6209156170517866045/posts/default/7357186037526657439'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6209156170517866045/posts/default/7357186037526657439'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://chroniclesofnisha.blogspot.com/2011/10/wow-did-blogger-go-through.html' title=''/><author><name>~ da nISha da sTArZ ~</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17993639223556156336</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_XWMuZATG_so/S5Xm28E19BI/AAAAAAAADZ4/CqjfsZclYZE/S220/Untitled.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6209156170517866045.post-8389216885641052194</id><published>2010-12-13T23:11:00.004+08:00</published><updated>2010-12-13T23:21:40.708+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Unforgettable Moments.</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;Whenever I feel sad or down, like today, I just look back and remember where I was 2 weeks ago. I wish I could turn back time.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_XWMuZATG_so/TQY5Qc-zxLI/AAAAAAAADbE/kd2q3oRO5MI/s1600/AJHK011300639476.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_XWMuZATG_so/TQY5P2gWmrI/AAAAAAAADa8/DA_R4mErEPA/s1600/NZ2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_XWMuZATG_so/TQY5P2gWmrI/AAAAAAAADa8/DA_R4mErEPA/s320/NZ2.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5550186535272749746" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_XWMuZATG_so/TQY5P52nOZI/AAAAAAAADa0/cH-41qFxZ8M/s1600/NZ1%255D.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_XWMuZATG_so/TQY5P52nOZI/AAAAAAAADa0/cH-41qFxZ8M/s320/NZ1%255D.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5550186536171420050" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "&gt;&lt;img src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_XWMuZATG_so/TQY5Qc-zxLI/AAAAAAAADbE/kd2q3oRO5MI/s320/AJHK011300639476.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5550186545601037490" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 214px; height: 320px; " /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" &gt;Makes me feel motivated and Confident!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" &gt;New Zealand, I &lt;b&gt;will&lt;/b&gt; make you my home one day!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6209156170517866045-8389216885641052194?l=chroniclesofnisha.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://chroniclesofnisha.blogspot.com/feeds/8389216885641052194/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6209156170517866045&amp;postID=8389216885641052194' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6209156170517866045/posts/default/8389216885641052194'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6209156170517866045/posts/default/8389216885641052194'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://chroniclesofnisha.blogspot.com/2010/12/unforgettable-moments.html' title='Unforgettable Moments.'/><author><name>~ da nISha da sTArZ ~</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17993639223556156336</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_XWMuZATG_so/S5Xm28E19BI/AAAAAAAADZ4/CqjfsZclYZE/S220/Untitled.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_XWMuZATG_so/TQY5P2gWmrI/AAAAAAAADa8/DA_R4mErEPA/s72-c/NZ2.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6209156170517866045.post-7687244208888084423</id><published>2010-07-14T23:03:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2010-07-14T23:30:55.290+08:00</updated><title type='text'>A Final Goodbye</title><content type='html'>Cremation has got to be the most painful way to see your loved ones go.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I didn't realize how much I loved my grandpa untill he was hospitalized two weeks ago. I thought that was the last time I would see him: before his surgery. But some higher power decided to give all of us two more weeks to spend with him. The strong, fit, independant man he was, he was soo active after the major brain operation, cracking jokes, making the nurses laugh, and being the sweet fatherly figure he always was.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I got to feed him, tuck him in, and tell him stories. I'm glad I spent all that time with him in the hospital. Although i wish i did more now, still, i feel good that i showed my love in that sort of way before it was too late.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The night before he went, he kept asking me what time we were taking him home the next day. I told him he might not be able to go home yet, depending on the result of the CT scan. Then he said this "It's okay, the man upstairs will be taking me home tomorrow". I am not making this up. He said it more than once. I got a bit worried and told him to stop saying that. And then i ignored the dreadful feeling that his time was up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The next day, mom came into my room at 5 am, saw me sleeping, and left. Then the phone rang. Something was wrong. When I finally got the news he was in the ICU, i think i started howling so loudly my cat got alarmed and ran off. Went to work half day, cos i knew i couldn't do anything.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I went to see him at the ICU, it was sooo bad. Alien tubes sticking out of him. A machine forcing him to breathe. Blood tranfusions. Beeping machines. It was not right. I couldn't talk to him. I was choked up with tears. Stroked his face, held his hand. Tried not to let him hear me cry. Eventually we left and went to grandma's for a nap.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My aunt n uncle were making arrangements already. I hated them for a while. But later i realized i was soo out of reality. I was telling myself to ignore the obvious that my aunt n uncle grasped instantly. Then mum got a phone call to tell her to rush to the hospital. I thought grandpa bcame conscious. As I said, I was out of touch with reality. Dropped my mum off, found parking, ran to the ICU. Saw the nurses holding my mum's hand, heard the words 'we tried", and then broke down. Went to his room, saw him there, didn't feel him there tho, touched his face and held his hand again. Held my mum. Cried together. cried so much.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Next few hours were a blur, it was soo tiring. When the body was brought back to the house, his face had a smile on it. He met peace...&lt;br /&gt;As I said, cremation is the most scarring part of a funeral. The next day, lots of people came, offered their condolences. Told us stories of him as a young man. Later when they pushed his coffin into the incenerator, i gasped along with a few others. 24 hours ago he was alive, n now he would be nothing but ash. No more smile on that cheerful face. no more cheeky jokes. It was now final.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today, we went to spread the ashes into the sea. Ashes to ashes. Dust to dust.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Rest in peace Dadu....&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;I hope you find the happiness that the last few years could not provide for you.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6209156170517866045-7687244208888084423?l=chroniclesofnisha.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://chroniclesofnisha.blogspot.com/feeds/7687244208888084423/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6209156170517866045&amp;postID=7687244208888084423' title='9 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6209156170517866045/posts/default/7687244208888084423'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6209156170517866045/posts/default/7687244208888084423'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://chroniclesofnisha.blogspot.com/2010/07/final-goodbye.html' title='A Final Goodbye'/><author><name>~ da nISha da sTArZ ~</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17993639223556156336</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_XWMuZATG_so/S5Xm28E19BI/AAAAAAAADZ4/CqjfsZclYZE/S220/Untitled.jpg'/></author><thr:total>9</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6209156170517866045.post-554576585607083996</id><published>2010-07-09T10:50:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2010-07-09T10:53:16.894+08:00</updated><title type='text'>I love morning chats with my Homie.</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Nisha Tara: greetings young one&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Suet Ling: greetings gandalf&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;NT: HAhahaha&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;NT: today's lesson: How to look powerful and wise with a long grey piece of wood&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;NT: and a pointy hat&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;SL: HAHAHAHA&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;SL: u r supposed to b undercover gandalf&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;NT: Yes yes, don't worry, i have a huge blanket over my head&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;SL: kewl&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;SL: dat looks more normal&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Suet: mm hmm&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;NT: totally&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;NT: especially&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;NT: if the blanket has spongebob's face all over it&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;NT: thats what the salesman told me&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;NT: when i bought it&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;SL: yea&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;SL: u r a wise consumer&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;NT: people tell me that alot&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;NT: it took me years&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;NT: a little less years if you have a long grey peice of wood&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;NT: and a pointy hat&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;SL: damn&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;SL: how to get dat grey piece of wood&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;SL: arent u using dark wood&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;NT: its my secret&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;NT: *coughfromthegreytreecough*&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6209156170517866045-554576585607083996?l=chroniclesofnisha.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://chroniclesofnisha.blogspot.com/feeds/554576585607083996/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6209156170517866045&amp;postID=554576585607083996' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6209156170517866045/posts/default/554576585607083996'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6209156170517866045/posts/default/554576585607083996'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://chroniclesofnisha.blogspot.com/2010/07/i-love-morning-chats-with-my-homie.html' title='I love morning chats with my Homie.'/><author><name>~ da nISha da sTArZ ~</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17993639223556156336</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_XWMuZATG_so/S5Xm28E19BI/AAAAAAAADZ4/CqjfsZclYZE/S220/Untitled.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6209156170517866045.post-6907284455579271617</id><published>2010-06-18T11:09:00.004+08:00</published><updated>2010-06-18T11:29:32.363+08:00</updated><title type='text'>In loving memory of an Joash Wee</title><content type='html'>Yesterday, I got a phonecall from my ex-boss, stating that one of my friends, and more importantly my best friend's bf, was no longer in this world.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was the gloomiest and darkest day for many.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He was somebody's friend, family, best friend, and lover. And to have gone in such a tragic way, is too disturbing. It really hurts when u think that 'just that day he was alive and talking'. I have a group picture of him on my bday, staring down at me from the bookshelf. And as my friend Niru said last night: "Even worse that dying in that way, you become an example to many". Urgh.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Life is unpredictable. And it has a gruesome way of reminding you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Remember,&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;I will still be here,&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;As long as you hold me,&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;In your memory,&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Remember me.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;*&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Remember,&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;I will never leave you,&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;If you will only,&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Remember me.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;-&lt;em&gt;Josh Groban, Remember Me&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6209156170517866045-6907284455579271617?l=chroniclesofnisha.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://chroniclesofnisha.blogspot.com/feeds/6907284455579271617/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6209156170517866045&amp;postID=6907284455579271617' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6209156170517866045/posts/default/6907284455579271617'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6209156170517866045/posts/default/6907284455579271617'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://chroniclesofnisha.blogspot.com/2010/06/in-loving-memory-of-joash-wee.html' title='In loving memory of an Joash Wee'/><author><name>~ da nISha da sTArZ ~</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17993639223556156336</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_XWMuZATG_so/S5Xm28E19BI/AAAAAAAADZ4/CqjfsZclYZE/S220/Untitled.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6209156170517866045.post-4164221262005902549</id><published>2010-06-13T15:44:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2010-06-13T15:53:03.389+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Helooooo everyone. I doubt there's anyone left who reads this page. I haven't updated it since dinasours existed but so what. That shows I have a life now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My goal for this current week? CLEAN ROOM.&lt;br /&gt;Yes, I've been repeating it like a mantra these days. Especially during my daily meditation routine.&lt;br /&gt;Ha! Gotcha! I don't HAVE a daily meditation routine! Am I good or what?&lt;br /&gt;Aaaaanyways, I should be blogging more often now, that my PC is up and running yay! See? Even my PC is more active than me, running, jogging, n what not.&lt;br /&gt;That was awkward.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I shall reward you guys by retiring to my bed now n hibernating. After which I will awaken and eat some Salmon to live the "complete bear lifestyle"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Good day folks.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6209156170517866045-4164221262005902549?l=chroniclesofnisha.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://chroniclesofnisha.blogspot.com/feeds/4164221262005902549/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6209156170517866045&amp;postID=4164221262005902549' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6209156170517866045/posts/default/4164221262005902549'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6209156170517866045/posts/default/4164221262005902549'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://chroniclesofnisha.blogspot.com/2010/06/helooooo-everyone.html' title=''/><author><name>~ da nISha da sTArZ ~</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17993639223556156336</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_XWMuZATG_so/S5Xm28E19BI/AAAAAAAADZ4/CqjfsZclYZE/S220/Untitled.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6209156170517866045.post-2056134809643524039</id><published>2010-03-11T11:41:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2010-03-11T11:42:15.735+08:00</updated><title type='text'>HAHAHAHA.</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.b96hits.com/blog/wp-content/uploads/2009/02/beyonce-single-ladies.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 372px; height: 313px;" src="http://www.b96hits.com/blog/wp-content/uploads/2009/02/beyonce-single-ladies.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6209156170517866045-2056134809643524039?l=chroniclesofnisha.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://chroniclesofnisha.blogspot.com/feeds/2056134809643524039/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6209156170517866045&amp;postID=2056134809643524039' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6209156170517866045/posts/default/2056134809643524039'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6209156170517866045/posts/default/2056134809643524039'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://chroniclesofnisha.blogspot.com/2010/03/hahahaha.html' title='HAHAHAHA.'/><author><name>~ da nISha da sTArZ ~</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17993639223556156336</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_XWMuZATG_so/S5Xm28E19BI/AAAAAAAADZ4/CqjfsZclYZE/S220/Untitled.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6209156170517866045.post-949547596191051178</id><published>2010-03-09T14:03:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2010-03-09T14:10:09.693+08:00</updated><title type='text'>I'm gonna learn how to fly...</title><content type='html'>I'm so proud of my speech! Wtf, i know it's only a speech, but still, it's a last opportunity to make an impact on our department. Although I think those people who can't speak &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Engrish propery&lt;/span&gt; did not understand it. Special thanks to Yong Long for making the audio work. This is it peepes! Past the point of no return, no backward glances!&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span style="line-height: 115%;font-size:100%;" &gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p  style="font-style: italic;font-family:georgia;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="line-height: 115%;font-size:100%;" &gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;p  style="font-style: italic;font-family:georgia;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="line-height: 115%;font-size:100%;" &gt;Ladies and Gentleman,&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p  style="font-style: italic;font-family:georgia;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="line-height: 115%;font-size:100%;" &gt;In accordance with tonight’s Hollywood theme, we would like to present our speech for tonight in tribute of one of the the greatest tragedy/ legends that Hollywood had encountered in the past few months, the king of pop .&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p  style="font-style: italic;font-family:georgia;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="line-height: 115%;font-size:100%;" &gt;Dear Lecturers,&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p  style="font-style: italic;font-family:georgia;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="line-height: 115%;font-size:100%;" &gt;In our past three years of our Psychology course, we have no doubt studied the various modes &lt;b style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;Human Nature&lt;/b&gt; can take. We learnt that human behaviour is anything but &lt;b style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;Black and White&lt;/b&gt;, and that each person is made of a unique combination of personalities and &lt;b style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;Childhood&lt;/b&gt; experiences.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p  style="font-style: italic;font-family:georgia;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="line-height: 115%;font-size:100%;" &gt;It hasn’t been easy, for whenever each of us attempt to study our nights away or get down with work to meet the nearing due dates of our assignments, all we can hear in the background is &lt;b style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;Thriller&lt;/b&gt;! However, we’ve accepted it, even embraced it, and learnt to &lt;b style=""&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;Beat IT&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/b&gt;to reach this point of our lives. The knowledge you have passed on to us is priceless, and we &lt;b style=""&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;won’t stop till we get enough&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p  style="font-style: italic;font-family:georgia;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);font-size:100%;" &gt;&lt;b style=""&gt;&lt;span style="line-height: 115%;"&gt;This is it&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="line-height: 115%;font-size:100%;" &gt;,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="line-height: 115%;font-size:100%;" &gt; we will be stepping into the real-world of employers, and we know that deep inside, &lt;b style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;they won’t really care about us&lt;/b&gt; as all of you have done. Hence we would like to thank you for guiding us so patiently, and making us reach out to that &lt;b style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;Man in the Mirror&lt;/b&gt;, even though some of us may have been a little more of a challenge than others, by being &lt;b style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;Bad&lt;/b&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;,&lt;/span&gt; while others may have proven to be&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;b style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;smooth criminals.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p  style="font-style: italic;font-family:georgia;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="line-height: 115%;font-size:100%;" &gt;We would like to take this opportunity to thank each of our lecturers this far.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p  style="font-style: italic;font-family:georgia;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="line-height: 115%;font-size:100%;" &gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Dr Tham&lt;/span&gt;, who is no longer with this department, for presenting a great first semester for us and further sparking our interest in the field of Psychology,&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p  style="font-style: italic;font-family:georgia;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="line-height: 115%;font-size:100%;" &gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Ms Woo&lt;/span&gt; for being a sweetheart of a teacher, and always entertaining us with her jokes of how NOT to conduct the WAIS.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p  style="font-style: italic;font-family:georgia;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="line-height: 115%;font-size:100%;" &gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Ms Elaine&lt;/span&gt; for being able to make the most dry subjects, interesting to our mundane little minds,&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p  style="font-style: italic;font-family:georgia;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="line-height: 115%;font-size:100%;" &gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Ms Grace&lt;/span&gt; for her interesting lectures and for being able to connect with us at a different level while lecturing,&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p  style="font-style: italic;font-family:georgia;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="line-height: 115%;font-size:100%;" &gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Ms Cheong&lt;/span&gt; for being the cutest misbehaved kid in our Behaviour Modification class,&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p  style="font-style: italic;font-family:georgia;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="line-height: 115%;font-size:100%;" &gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Ms Chitra&lt;/span&gt; for her thought-provoking lessons, and for having us view a different perception of life&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p  style="font-style: italic;font-family:georgia;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="line-height: 115%;font-size:100%;" &gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Ms Jeannie&lt;/span&gt; for her amazing and almost freaky memory and to a certain extent, for keeping our uni lifes in line, and not too crazy and confusing, as how it would have been.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p  style="font-style: italic;font-family:georgia;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="line-height: 115%;font-size:100%;" &gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Dr Lin and Dr Priya&lt;/span&gt; and the all the other lecturers for having an extroadinary level of patience during our painful thesis supervision,&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p  style="font-style: italic;font-family:georgia;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="line-height: 115%;font-size:100%;" &gt;And last but not least, &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Dr Teoh&lt;/span&gt; for his enlightening advise, and his variety of entertaining and tickling videos.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p  style="font-style: italic;font-family:georgia;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="line-height: 115%;font-size:100%;" &gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p  style="font-style: italic;font-family:georgia;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="line-height: 115%;font-size:100%;" &gt;Although the past three years have &lt;b style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;gone too soon&lt;/b&gt;, we can at least look back on the memories and Smile&lt;b style=""&gt; &lt;/b&gt;at our achievements, joys, and the good times we had together. Even though we may not express it at times, to us, you are not merely any Tom, Dick or &lt;b style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;Billy Jean&lt;/b&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;,&lt;/span&gt; you were our mentors, guidance, and you were, to a certain extent, the centre of our lives.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p  style="font-style: italic;font-family:georgia;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="line-height: 115%;font-size:100%;" &gt;TO sum it up, we would just like to demonstrate our affection to our mentors, and the impact you have made to our lives. To our lecturers&lt;b style=""&gt;, &lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;We Just Can’t Stop Loving you&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;! TO our juniors that are going to follow our footsteps and live the path that we have, we would just like to encourage you to work hard, enjoy your student lives, and remember, &lt;b style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;You are not alone&lt;/b&gt; in this journey.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span style="line-height: 115%;font-size:100%;" &gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Good evening, ladies and gentlemen and enjoy the rest of the night!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span style="line-height: 115%;font-size:100%;" &gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6209156170517866045-949547596191051178?l=chroniclesofnisha.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://chroniclesofnisha.blogspot.com/feeds/949547596191051178/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6209156170517866045&amp;postID=949547596191051178' title='8 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6209156170517866045/posts/default/949547596191051178'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6209156170517866045/posts/default/949547596191051178'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://chroniclesofnisha.blogspot.com/2010/03/im-gonna-learn-how-to-fly.html' title='I&apos;m gonna learn how to fly...'/><author><name>~ da nISha da sTArZ ~</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17993639223556156336</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_XWMuZATG_so/S5Xm28E19BI/AAAAAAAADZ4/CqjfsZclYZE/S220/Untitled.jpg'/></author><thr:total>8</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6209156170517866045.post-4378802654772217037</id><published>2010-01-11T00:41:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2010-01-11T10:44:11.182+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Waddup?</title><content type='html'>I am proud to announce to those who dunno, that Malaysia is a purchasable property on Monopoly mini (which is sort of like a travel version of the original Monopoly) while Singapore is NOT. haha in your face u stuck up beeeeep *censored*. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now I just need to know why weird ppl keep commenting on my blog. I mean seriously, why? If you don't believe me, check out my previous post and the one before that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And in case you're wondering, my laptop decided to put my stresses-out, overworked, thesis-obsessed brain to the test by not being able to connect to any Internet connection. Seriously, isn't losing my car enough bad fucking luck for this year?? So now I have to use my oversized thumbs to tap on this tiny keyboard on my iTouch.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Life's just bloody spectacular innit?&lt;br /&gt;Count your blessings they say. U know why? Cause it takes less fingers to do so. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Toodles.&lt;br /&gt;  &lt;br /&gt;- Posted using BlogPress from iPod Touch&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6209156170517866045-4378802654772217037?l=chroniclesofnisha.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://chroniclesofnisha.blogspot.com/feeds/4378802654772217037/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6209156170517866045&amp;postID=4378802654772217037' title='8 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6209156170517866045/posts/default/4378802654772217037'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6209156170517866045/posts/default/4378802654772217037'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://chroniclesofnisha.blogspot.com/2010/01/waddup.html' title='Waddup?'/><author><name>~ da nISha da sTArZ ~</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17993639223556156336</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_XWMuZATG_so/S5Xm28E19BI/AAAAAAAADZ4/CqjfsZclYZE/S220/Untitled.jpg'/></author><thr:total>8</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6209156170517866045.post-543106500898524907</id><published>2009-12-18T01:16:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2009-12-18T01:16:00.207+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Hasty update.</title><content type='html'>&lt;br /&gt;Busy busy busy. If there's one thing that's certain in my life, it's that I never want to do a research paper EVER again. Somehow it makes me think of long dark endless tunnells. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Argh. All I want for Christmas is my life back. Come on Santa, I've been a good girl this year!! Relatively, at least wtf. Ok, I may have been naughty but so what?? Boys are always naughtier anyways. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Toodles. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;PS. Bacardi Rum or Absolut Vodka??&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- Posted using BlogPress from my iPod Touch&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6209156170517866045-543106500898524907?l=chroniclesofnisha.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://chroniclesofnisha.blogspot.com/feeds/543106500898524907/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6209156170517866045&amp;postID=543106500898524907' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6209156170517866045/posts/default/543106500898524907'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6209156170517866045/posts/default/543106500898524907'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://chroniclesofnisha.blogspot.com/2009/12/hasty-update.html' title='Hasty update.'/><author><name>~ da nISha da sTArZ ~</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17993639223556156336</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_XWMuZATG_so/S5Xm28E19BI/AAAAAAAADZ4/CqjfsZclYZE/S220/Untitled.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6209156170517866045.post-4564969948404067599</id><published>2009-12-09T19:14:00.005+08:00</published><updated>2009-12-09T19:26:23.247+08:00</updated><title type='text'>I am a....</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_XWMuZATG_so/Sx-IW-U30vI/AAAAAAAADZo/7juvHdOU9HM/s1600-h/PICT0825.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_XWMuZATG_so/Sx-IW-U30vI/AAAAAAAADZo/7juvHdOU9HM/s400/PICT0825.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5413195205391667954" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;font-size:130%;" &gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;Provocative Woman&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Haha. My bro can be so sweet sometimes&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6209156170517866045-4564969948404067599?l=chroniclesofnisha.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://chroniclesofnisha.blogspot.com/feeds/4564969948404067599/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6209156170517866045&amp;postID=4564969948404067599' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6209156170517866045/posts/default/4564969948404067599'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6209156170517866045/posts/default/4564969948404067599'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://chroniclesofnisha.blogspot.com/2009/12/i-am.html' title='I am a....'/><author><name>~ da nISha da sTArZ ~</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17993639223556156336</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_XWMuZATG_so/S5Xm28E19BI/AAAAAAAADZ4/CqjfsZclYZE/S220/Untitled.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_XWMuZATG_so/Sx-IW-U30vI/AAAAAAAADZo/7juvHdOU9HM/s72-c/PICT0825.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6209156170517866045.post-7536259985928815192</id><published>2009-12-04T18:29:00.005+08:00</published><updated>2009-12-04T19:16:57.914+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Bye bye Jack</title><content type='html'>And God says: to balance out the good things in the world, we shall create bad things.&lt;br /&gt;And God says: Why don't we just push the bad things into Nisha's lap and forget about it?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wait a minute, WHAT God precisely?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lemme see, in the past 2 years, i've visited the police station 4 times.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. car got broken into and bag got stolen.&lt;br /&gt;2. FOS pervie tried to take picture of me.&lt;br /&gt;3. Wallet got pickpocketed during deepavali.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;ALL this I can stand. All this i can tolerate and take the blame for.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4. My Car eventually gets stolen.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I still haven't grasped the gravity of it. It still seems so surreal to say that out aloud. "My car got stolen". Seriously? Someone pinch me please. three times. THREEE TIMES my car gets broken into and waaaaayyyy to go Nisha. You've just proven that you have the shittiest luck in the whole world. Probably not but it feels so.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Goodbye my sweet dear Jack. I'll always remember you as my first car which was a rare manual Matrix, and all the girly fun moments we had in it! Omg, how can anyone stand the pain of losing a car?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_XWMuZATG_so/SxjoS7-EkyI/AAAAAAAADZg/4es2lhmORTQ/s1600-h/n637979883_1135723_1318.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_XWMuZATG_so/SxjoS7-EkyI/AAAAAAAADZg/4es2lhmORTQ/s400/n637979883_1135723_1318.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5411330364318978850" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6209156170517866045-7536259985928815192?l=chroniclesofnisha.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://chroniclesofnisha.blogspot.com/feeds/7536259985928815192/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6209156170517866045&amp;postID=7536259985928815192' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6209156170517866045/posts/default/7536259985928815192'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6209156170517866045/posts/default/7536259985928815192'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://chroniclesofnisha.blogspot.com/2009/12/bye-bye-jack.html' title='Bye bye Jack'/><author><name>~ da nISha da sTArZ ~</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17993639223556156336</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_XWMuZATG_so/S5Xm28E19BI/AAAAAAAADZ4/CqjfsZclYZE/S220/Untitled.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_XWMuZATG_so/SxjoS7-EkyI/AAAAAAAADZg/4es2lhmORTQ/s72-c/n637979883_1135723_1318.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6209156170517866045.post-2631343084935021018</id><published>2009-12-03T14:18:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2009-12-03T14:21:48.626+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Feeling loved</title><content type='html'>Special thanks to my classmates and Ms Grace for the delicious cake and the wonderful celebration! After all the hectic datelines and work and thesis, I really needed a reminder that my 21st is coming! Thanks guys!&lt;br /&gt;May lollipops and toffees rain down on you always!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6209156170517866045-2631343084935021018?l=chroniclesofnisha.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://chroniclesofnisha.blogspot.com/feeds/2631343084935021018/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6209156170517866045&amp;postID=2631343084935021018' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6209156170517866045/posts/default/2631343084935021018'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6209156170517866045/posts/default/2631343084935021018'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://chroniclesofnisha.blogspot.com/2009/12/feeling-loved.html' title='Feeling loved'/><author><name>~ da nISha da sTArZ ~</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17993639223556156336</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_XWMuZATG_so/S5Xm28E19BI/AAAAAAAADZ4/CqjfsZclYZE/S220/Untitled.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6209156170517866045.post-189923113791409667</id><published>2009-12-01T11:36:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2009-12-01T12:13:18.643+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Wat the fuck is wrong with the college database. You type '&lt;span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;operant conditioning&lt;/span&gt;' and articles about "&lt;span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;Spatial unmasking of birdsong in zebra finches&lt;/span&gt;" turn up. WTF?/#%$^@*@&lt;br /&gt;And they want us to have f*cking references when they don't provide a near decent database.&lt;br /&gt;This is the biggest mistake of my life.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6209156170517866045-189923113791409667?l=chroniclesofnisha.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://chroniclesofnisha.blogspot.com/feeds/189923113791409667/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6209156170517866045&amp;postID=189923113791409667' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6209156170517866045/posts/default/189923113791409667'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6209156170517866045/posts/default/189923113791409667'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://chroniclesofnisha.blogspot.com/2009/12/wat-fuck-is-wrong-with-college-database.html' title=''/><author><name>~ da nISha da sTArZ ~</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17993639223556156336</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_XWMuZATG_so/S5Xm28E19BI/AAAAAAAADZ4/CqjfsZclYZE/S220/Untitled.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6209156170517866045.post-5752201920163560848</id><published>2009-11-28T23:12:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2009-11-28T23:14:18.574+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I was looking through my files, and I found this quote that I copied down from TV cos I thought it was good.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;blockquote style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;  "Everyone looks up to the circle so much and feels the need to fit in;&lt;br /&gt;so much so that those who don’t mind being outside the circle should be beaten, brought down, or worse - pitied."&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;"&gt;– Gregory House&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What kind of world do we live in?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6209156170517866045-5752201920163560848?l=chroniclesofnisha.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://chroniclesofnisha.blogspot.com/feeds/5752201920163560848/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6209156170517866045&amp;postID=5752201920163560848' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6209156170517866045/posts/default/5752201920163560848'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6209156170517866045/posts/default/5752201920163560848'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://chroniclesofnisha.blogspot.com/2009/11/i-was-looking-through-my-files-and-i_28.html' title=''/><author><name>~ da nISha da sTArZ ~</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17993639223556156336</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_XWMuZATG_so/S5Xm28E19BI/AAAAAAAADZ4/CqjfsZclYZE/S220/Untitled.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6209156170517866045.post-281563241767978983</id><published>2009-11-25T21:58:00.004+08:00</published><updated>2009-11-25T22:12:08.557+08:00</updated><title type='text'>If God had a form, he'd look like this.</title><content type='html'>Omg, I saw this photo, and I almost passed out like some drama queen.&lt;br /&gt;Lo' and behold, People Magazine's Sexiest Man Alive for this year. FOR THE SECOND TIME!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://beerdrinkingreport.files.wordpress.com/2009/05/johnnydepp1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 380px; height: 285px;" src="http://beerdrinkingreport.files.wordpress.com/2009/05/johnnydepp1.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;You know how people cry and sob and faint when they see MJ? I would probably do that for Johnny Depp. I swear the moment that I meet him in real life, I'll be ready for any kinda death.&lt;br /&gt;Man, can't someone make my dream come true?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Come on, Oprah??............. Ellen?........... Anybody!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6209156170517866045-281563241767978983?l=chroniclesofnisha.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://chroniclesofnisha.blogspot.com/feeds/281563241767978983/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6209156170517866045&amp;postID=281563241767978983' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6209156170517866045/posts/default/281563241767978983'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6209156170517866045/posts/default/281563241767978983'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://chroniclesofnisha.blogspot.com/2009/11/if-god-had-form-hed-look-like-this.html' title='If God had a form, he&apos;d look like this.'/><author><name>~ da nISha da sTArZ ~</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17993639223556156336</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_XWMuZATG_so/S5Xm28E19BI/AAAAAAAADZ4/CqjfsZclYZE/S220/Untitled.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6209156170517866045.post-708456098552825056</id><published>2009-11-16T20:58:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2009-11-16T21:08:30.365+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Holy crap! One week has just passed by like that!&lt;br /&gt;I had big plans to do Internship report last week, but instead i end up blowing off cash with a new handbag and a bloody expensive purse just because i've worked for my money!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;God, where am I going to find time?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sorry Kris Allen, not all of us want to spend 86400 seconds in a day contemplating whether to tell someone that we love them. Some of us have bloody reports to write, thanks.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6209156170517866045-708456098552825056?l=chroniclesofnisha.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://chroniclesofnisha.blogspot.com/feeds/708456098552825056/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6209156170517866045&amp;postID=708456098552825056' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6209156170517866045/posts/default/708456098552825056'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6209156170517866045/posts/default/708456098552825056'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://chroniclesofnisha.blogspot.com/2009/11/holy-crap-one-week-has-just-passed-by.html' title=''/><author><name>~ da nISha da sTArZ ~</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17993639223556156336</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_XWMuZATG_so/S5Xm28E19BI/AAAAAAAADZ4/CqjfsZclYZE/S220/Untitled.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6209156170517866045.post-4990488640841357710</id><published>2009-11-07T15:08:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2009-11-07T15:11:41.961+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Lucky Bitch!</title><content type='html'>Okay, ever since i watched the documentary, i've been a BIT stalkerish of all the MJ live performances he has done. And i found this one which was the one in Malaysia and this lucky bitch get to hug him on stage while he's singing!!! Just watch, its somewhere in the middle.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/oji-lfyxRSM&amp;amp;hl=en&amp;amp;fs=1&amp;amp;color1=0xe1600f&amp;amp;color2=0xfebd01"&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/oji-lfyxRSM&amp;amp;hl=en&amp;amp;fs=1&amp;amp;color1=0xe1600f&amp;amp;color2=0xfebd01" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;OMG not fair.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6209156170517866045-4990488640841357710?l=chroniclesofnisha.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://chroniclesofnisha.blogspot.com/feeds/4990488640841357710/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6209156170517866045&amp;postID=4990488640841357710' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6209156170517866045/posts/default/4990488640841357710'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6209156170517866045/posts/default/4990488640841357710'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://chroniclesofnisha.blogspot.com/2009/11/lucky-bitch.html' title='Lucky Bitch!'/><author><name>~ da nISha da sTArZ ~</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17993639223556156336</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_XWMuZATG_so/S5Xm28E19BI/AAAAAAAADZ4/CqjfsZclYZE/S220/Untitled.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6209156170517866045.post-2843826843057927718</id><published>2009-11-01T20:39:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2009-11-01T21:10:05.365+08:00</updated><title type='text'>You've been struck by a smooth criminal!</title><content type='html'>THIS IS IT - today i watched it for the second time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And I now fully understand why girls used to faint when they saw him. I could have fainted today if i was watching the live show. Its his swagger that he has when he's on stage, especially in those sexy red shirt suits he wears. That brutal passion, and that ooze of confidence, which he lacks so much in reality.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And no matter how many surgeries he's done to his face, or how different and scary he looks, I think all he has to do is give one of those genuine, naive smiles - that smile he gets when he's into his music that he's singing- to let everyone fall in love with him yet again.&lt;br /&gt;I think i wanna buy the THIS IS IT dvd. Although it makes me feel sad and depressed everytime i watch it.&lt;br /&gt;But there were those funny moments in the show, like some of his quirky moves, or when he became so excited that he was doing weird movements with his hands, or when he became so lost in his rehearsal that the directors had to direct him back. Those were funny moments that remind you that MJ was indeed a real person, and not a fictional character that we all idolize.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And when he performed all his Jackson 5 hits with their moves, I can't help but think that he'll never forget his moves because of what his dad would do to him when he was young. But he still performed it with his small-boy charm.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One thing I noticed about him was that when he gave direction to the crew, or started becoming a bit impatient with a mistake that the band made, he ALWAYS makes sure that he talks to them nicely and even adds things like "With love. That what rehearsals are for, so we can improve". Oh My Gawd. So sweeeeet of him. He also lets others get the spotlight once in a while on HIS concert. how sweeeet no?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What made me almost cry was the ending. The last scene was so suitable. Like he was blessing everyone. Wow. I'm almost tearing up thinking of it. You may think its cliche, blogging after him dying and what not. But I think for me, and most of us, the reason why this whole issue is so saddening, is because of his life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;The boy who was not given a chance at childhood, will never grow up, and would die an incomplete and confused live; but also the boy who never stopped giving.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He finally found his neverland.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://wpdesignblog.com/wp-content/uploads/2009/07/michael-jackson.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 390px; height: 289px;" src="http://wpdesignblog.com/wp-content/uploads/2009/07/michael-jackson.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6209156170517866045-2843826843057927718?l=chroniclesofnisha.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://chroniclesofnisha.blogspot.com/feeds/2843826843057927718/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6209156170517866045&amp;postID=2843826843057927718' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6209156170517866045/posts/default/2843826843057927718'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6209156170517866045/posts/default/2843826843057927718'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://chroniclesofnisha.blogspot.com/2009/11/youve-been-struck-by-smooth-criminal.html' title='You&apos;ve been struck by a smooth criminal!'/><author><name>~ da nISha da sTArZ ~</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17993639223556156336</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_XWMuZATG_so/S5Xm28E19BI/AAAAAAAADZ4/CqjfsZclYZE/S220/Untitled.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6209156170517866045.post-6390685116783132032</id><published>2009-10-25T21:18:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2009-10-25T21:24:15.654+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Why?</title><content type='html'>i swear my hair is NOT growing. I haven't cut it for ages and it still does not grow. WHYYYYYYYY?? *bangs head on wall*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;WHYYYYY must we have thesis??&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;WHYYYY must we have internship report?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;WHYYYY must we study??&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;WHYYY am i related to &lt;s&gt;people who aspire to be&lt;/s&gt; plastic bimbos?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;WHYYYY does Johnny Depp live so far away &lt;s&gt;with his stupid wife and stupid kids&lt;/s&gt;???&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;"&gt;Life is full of questions, but short on the answers.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6209156170517866045-6390685116783132032?l=chroniclesofnisha.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://chroniclesofnisha.blogspot.com/feeds/6390685116783132032/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6209156170517866045&amp;postID=6390685116783132032' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6209156170517866045/posts/default/6390685116783132032'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6209156170517866045/posts/default/6390685116783132032'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://chroniclesofnisha.blogspot.com/2009/10/why.html' title='Why?'/><author><name>~ da nISha da sTArZ ~</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17993639223556156336</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_XWMuZATG_so/S5Xm28E19BI/AAAAAAAADZ4/CqjfsZclYZE/S220/Untitled.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6209156170517866045.post-1087055982630228451</id><published>2009-09-22T13:05:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2009-09-22T13:26:23.439+08:00</updated><title type='text'>A Post About Nothing</title><content type='html'>Okay, firstly, i would like to apologize to anyone that I have offended for my previous post. I just want to set something straight here: I'm NOT taking a swipe at Christianity, I'm taking a swipe at this guy who claims he can "heal" people. Frankly, i don't buy it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Raya Holidays rock! I love not having to do anything, being able to sleep as late as i wanna, wake up as late as i wanna, lay in bed the whole day...In fact, i'm lying in my bed right now, typing this on my Laptop. I have nothing in particular to say. Well thats a lie, i have a few things to say actually.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. I am GOING to start exercising. For real this time. No, really.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. I have succumbed to my addiction of Left 4 Dead after having withdrawal symptoms for a month wtf.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. I love ironing my clothes for some reason. There's some real satisfaction in seeing the creases on your shirt smooth out like magic. Wtf.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4. Wow, i must be really bored to have said that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5. I hate it that so many of my friends are overseas or are going overseas! Prasana, I miss you!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;6. I think that if your chatbox is filled with more hate mail than nice ones, its time to think to yourself "Wow, I must suck".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;7. I really can't wait to start earning a proper salary.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;8. I luurvvee my new spongebob stickers which I have pasted everywhere (including the PC at work)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;9. I am so freaking scared for my Grade 8 Piano exam.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Haih. I'm gonna stop there cos I like the number 9 for some reason. Cos when you multiply 9 with any number, and you take the results and add all the digits together untill they form a single digit, it will always be the same number, = &lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;9&lt;/span&gt;!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Toodles ya'll!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6209156170517866045-1087055982630228451?l=chroniclesofnisha.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://chroniclesofnisha.blogspot.com/feeds/1087055982630228451/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6209156170517866045&amp;postID=1087055982630228451' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6209156170517866045/posts/default/1087055982630228451'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6209156170517866045/posts/default/1087055982630228451'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://chroniclesofnisha.blogspot.com/2009/09/post-about-nothing.html' title='A Post About Nothing'/><author><name>~ da nISha da sTArZ ~</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17993639223556156336</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_XWMuZATG_so/S5Xm28E19BI/AAAAAAAADZ4/CqjfsZclYZE/S220/Untitled.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6209156170517866045.post-8160750051311764451</id><published>2009-09-12T20:02:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2009-09-12T20:41:05.430+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Encounters?</title><content type='html'>I just read my previous post, and realized how funny it was when i was talking about my cousin, Kathy going away and how i'm gonna miss her, and then suddenly i said "Goodbye Marcusses"&lt;br /&gt;Haha. wtf.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have 12o thesis subjects to collect, 110 done, now 10 more only to go. I think everything is going smoother than i expected. Better not jinx it too soon tho.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today, i attended church. I went in a free thinker and i came out a.......free thinker as well, but a free thinker with much more to actually think about. My boss asked me to attend this talk in which a preacher aged 23, a cute preacher as well, was going to give a talk, and 'heal' people. Apparently when he was 19, he cured a person of cancer&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; immediately&lt;/span&gt; after his shadow touched that person. I don't know how&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; immediate&lt;/span&gt; it was, don't tell me there happened to be an MRI available in the room when he was preaching, then.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Don't get me wrong, I respect every religion and I'm not trying to take a blow at any one of them. Its just that what i attended today didn't seem like a religious talk, it seemed slightly like brainwashing and i couldn't help thinking JIM JONES, JIM JONES, at the back of my head.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So the climax of this thing was, when he asked everyone to think about what they have done, how God will forgive them, how only God will love them if the truth comes out etc etc. At this point, a lot of the youth had their heads bowed and crying to themselves, and in deep thought, almost like a trance. Except me and Janet, my colleague. We both weren't Christians, and so we were staring at the preacher right in his eye, and I was taking note of everything he was saying. So suddenly, the preacher would point at a person, and one of the church volunteers will go get him/her and bring the person out front. The preacher would then bless his forehead and blow on  his forehead, and the person would fall right back, as though in a trance. THe volunteer would then catch the person and lay him down on the floor.  This happened to more than 30 people there.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was so damn skeptical still. Cos it was a youth rally and i saw that some of the youth looked like they were falling deliberately to conform. Also, the preacher started preaching in tongues, which scared me even more, cause it sounded like not anything from this world. But still, i always made that point to stare him in the eye. Sort of a rebellious statement saying 'i'm not affected, i can see right through you' kind of thing. So did Janet. I KNEW he wouldn't point to me or Janet cos we weren't crying, and we weren't emotional enough to submit to whatever he was going to do.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But suddenly, i thought this was cunning: He pointed to the other end of the row we were seating and asked EVERYONE from the row to come up front. Suddenly Janet and I were scared cos we felt like we ddn't belong. We weren't emotional like the rest of our whole row. Nevertheless, we went up front. He started talking to us, and when he saw Janet and I staring at him,he told us to close our eyes and pray. I closed it for 2 seconds, and then opened them, bowed my head in respect of the others, and merely looked down. This made Janet think i was closing my eyes, and so she closed her eyes too. We were standing all the way to the left, and he started blowing on the heads one by one from the right. I knew I wasn't going to fall, and that scared me, cos I didn't wanna be the sore thumb. But when the person reached Janet, the preacher blew on her head, and she fell backward like she was in a trance. I DID NOT EXPECT THAT. Then he came to me and blew.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I had been so sure everything was not as it seemed, untill i saw Janet on the floor, eyes rolled slightly backward. Preacher then blew on me. I could feel the person behind me waiting to catch me, but i dissapointed her. I did not fall, did not go into a trance, nothing. I stood awkardly there in the middle of a mass trance-like er.....event. I quickly went and sat in the front most seat for Janet. She finally woke up and told me her account of the story.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have no explanation whatsoever. I just know that it was a youth rally, and for some reason, adults weren't allowed. That could mean that either someone was weary that an adult could see right through it, or that they wanted to work on younger minds. But there WERE adult volunteers. And he actually blew on one of them. The adult did NOT fall. Although i felt uncomfortable there most of the time, I do not regret going. It has made me think a LOT. Of course, I do not believe he cured a person of cancer. But other than making people all backward in a trance, he did not actually achieve anything. Although he kept saying "You're blessed".&lt;br /&gt;And later when Janet went to talk to him, he said he could tell we were newcomers. Maybe THATS why he asked the whole row of us to go in front, and also, prior to that, he 'blew' someone into a trance right next to us as well. Cunning of him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But really. This has left me so confused.&lt;br /&gt;I can't even try to explain it scientifically. I hope someone will.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Toodles.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6209156170517866045-8160750051311764451?l=chroniclesofnisha.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://chroniclesofnisha.blogspot.com/feeds/8160750051311764451/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6209156170517866045&amp;postID=8160750051311764451' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6209156170517866045/posts/default/8160750051311764451'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6209156170517866045/posts/default/8160750051311764451'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://chroniclesofnisha.blogspot.com/2009/09/encounters.html' title='Encounters?'/><author><name>~ da nISha da sTArZ ~</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17993639223556156336</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_XWMuZATG_so/S5Xm28E19BI/AAAAAAAADZ4/CqjfsZclYZE/S220/Untitled.jpg'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6209156170517866045.post-644625873260163121</id><published>2009-08-13T16:16:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2009-08-13T16:39:33.348+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Adakah Anda Lebih Bijak dari Murid Tahun Lima?</title><content type='html'>Omg, i didn't realize i've reached my 200th post! Happy Bithday my sweet blog!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, yea. This is finally an update. I dunno why, but its during the holidays, when i feel so busy that i actually have to work up an effort to blog. Neeroo, this post is dedicated to you for encouraging me to resuscitate my blog with CP.....U (not CPR). HAHAHAHA. Ok lame joke.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So i've been busy with clothes shopping for work (which i'm so nervous about), i think i've spent more than RM 500 on clothes and shoes. Definitely much more. Because for some reason i need to look good in a company where i will not be having many friends (since ppl are sked of HR), and the only thing that will constantly be focusing on me is probably a CCTV.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, today i was watching Are u smarter than a 5th grader and i came to an epiphanic conclusion that shit like that can only exist in America. I mean, first of all, a 5th Grader is NOT a know-it-all okay? A fifth grader might have learnt their stuff but even 5th graders make mistakes and stumble at times.  So in that case, everytime the kid gets a wrong answer and causes the participant to lose, the participant should go up an extra level instead of flunking out. And also, there was once this guys who made it all the way up to the million dollar question, but he chose to drop out cos the rule is that if you see the million dollar question, you MUST answer it. So he didnt take the risk. But after he dropped out, they showed him the question anyway and asked him what his answer would have been. And he said the right answer! But STILL they made him say "I am not smarter than a 5th grader"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hello? you know what a 5th grader would have done? He would have greedily wanted to answer the question whether or not he was confident about it. Hence, I disagree: the participant WAS smarter than a 5th grader. American gameshows are stupid, biased, and can only be appreciated by americans. Full stop. I shall not insult them further in case someone shuts my blog down.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;you never know.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Okay i have nothing much to say now cos i'm so sleepy from waiting up to see a meteor shower which our cloudy skies prohibited. Dammit. But before i go, i must thank Jo's friend Ronald Kumar for giving me this link &lt;a href="http://www.mistclub.blogspot.com/"&gt;-Mist Official Blog-&lt;/a&gt;. According to a caption in this link, i'm Joey G's "&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;friend&lt;/span&gt;" now. Wtf. The media gets everything wrong, i tell you *flicks hair*. How many times must i tell them i'm his &lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;"&gt;secret lover&lt;/span&gt;???&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hahahahahahahahahahahahahahhahahahaha.&lt;br /&gt;Ok, toodles.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6209156170517866045-644625873260163121?l=chroniclesofnisha.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://chroniclesofnisha.blogspot.com/feeds/644625873260163121/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6209156170517866045&amp;postID=644625873260163121' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6209156170517866045/posts/default/644625873260163121'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6209156170517866045/posts/default/644625873260163121'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://chroniclesofnisha.blogspot.com/2009/08/adakah-anda-lebih-bijak-dari-murid.html' title='Adakah Anda Lebih Bijak dari Murid Tahun Lima?'/><author><name>~ da nISha da sTArZ ~</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17993639223556156336</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_XWMuZATG_so/S5Xm28E19BI/AAAAAAAADZ4/CqjfsZclYZE/S220/Untitled.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6209156170517866045.post-6813714103566958304</id><published>2009-07-22T14:37:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2009-07-22T14:49:50.870+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Here I come.</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Feeling ecstatic at the moment.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;This is just proof that results are just a bunch of numbers.&lt;br /&gt;Man, i feel so much better.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But don't let them fool you!&lt;br /&gt;They tell you confidence is the key, but not here it ain't!&lt;br /&gt;Here CONFORMITY is the key. Yes.&lt;br /&gt;They'll tell you to be outspoken,&lt;br /&gt;but they really want you to be timid and non-assertive.&lt;br /&gt;But for me, its basically two words:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;font-size:130%;" &gt;Be Yourself.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Helloooooo shoppinggg!! Helloooooo new clinchers, pencil skirts, collared shirts and make up!&lt;br /&gt;Helloooooooo stilettos!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.sg1dev.com/shoesforher/images/stilettos.gif"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 104px; height: 123px;" src="http://www.sg1dev.com/shoesforher/images/stilettos.gif" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Here I come.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6209156170517866045-6813714103566958304?l=chroniclesofnisha.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://chroniclesofnisha.blogspot.com/feeds/6813714103566958304/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6209156170517866045&amp;postID=6813714103566958304' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6209156170517866045/posts/default/6813714103566958304'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6209156170517866045/posts/default/6813714103566958304'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://chroniclesofnisha.blogspot.com/2009/07/here-i-come.html' title='Here I come.'/><author><name>~ da nISha da sTArZ ~</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17993639223556156336</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_XWMuZATG_so/S5Xm28E19BI/AAAAAAAADZ4/CqjfsZclYZE/S220/Untitled.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6209156170517866045.post-2595985674288015552</id><published>2009-07-16T19:24:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2009-07-16T19:32:54.641+08:00</updated><title type='text'>You wanna talk about guts?</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_XWMuZATG_so/Sl8Pw-5kF8I/AAAAAAAADXU/9I-9VyJP0ew/s1600-h/PICT0532.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_XWMuZATG_so/Sl8Pw-5kF8I/AAAAAAAADXU/9I-9VyJP0ew/s400/PICT0532.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5359019415786756034" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;THIS is called guts!&lt;br /&gt;I would like to thank*wipes teary eyes*:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. My very dear friend, alcohol - without liquid courage I would not have done it&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. My lovely Camera: because after taking picture with him, i dropped it and thought i lost all the photos! But actually i was too sloshed to realize that the battery got thrown out of the camera and thats why it wasn't working.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. JOHNNY JAY!!. He took the picture for me and approached him for me initially!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4. Joanna Joyce: For throwing the party in the first place!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5. Times Square for my awesome dress wtf.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;Okay i think i've lost the hype of this picture cos i looked at it too often. I always dreamt of a picture like that, but with Johnny Depp or Josh Groban in it *faint*.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Maybe someday...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6209156170517866045-2595985674288015552?l=chroniclesofnisha.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://chroniclesofnisha.blogspot.com/feeds/2595985674288015552/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6209156170517866045&amp;postID=2595985674288015552' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6209156170517866045/posts/default/2595985674288015552'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6209156170517866045/posts/default/2595985674288015552'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://chroniclesofnisha.blogspot.com/2009/07/you-wanna-talk-about-guts.html' title='You wanna talk about guts?'/><author><name>~ da nISha da sTArZ ~</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17993639223556156336</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_XWMuZATG_so/S5Xm28E19BI/AAAAAAAADZ4/CqjfsZclYZE/S220/Untitled.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_XWMuZATG_so/Sl8Pw-5kF8I/AAAAAAAADXU/9I-9VyJP0ew/s72-c/PICT0532.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6209156170517866045.post-327027733374784279</id><published>2009-07-12T11:37:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2009-07-12T11:39:36.626+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Its been a long long time!&lt;br /&gt; 3 papers down and one more to go. I can do it!&lt;br /&gt;Yes, i can!&lt;br /&gt;For after its over, Johnny Depp is waiting for me.&lt;br /&gt;with his cool big ass guns.&lt;br /&gt;I'm coming JOHNNY!!!!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6209156170517866045-327027733374784279?l=chroniclesofnisha.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://chroniclesofnisha.blogspot.com/feeds/327027733374784279/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6209156170517866045&amp;postID=327027733374784279' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6209156170517866045/posts/default/327027733374784279'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6209156170517866045/posts/default/327027733374784279'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://chroniclesofnisha.blogspot.com/2009/07/its-been-long-long-time-3-papers-down.html' title=''/><author><name>~ da nISha da sTArZ ~</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17993639223556156336</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_XWMuZATG_so/S5Xm28E19BI/AAAAAAAADZ4/CqjfsZclYZE/S220/Untitled.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6209156170517866045.post-9101064922150817891</id><published>2009-06-26T16:51:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2009-06-26T17:21:24.985+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Thriller Night?</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://i26.tinypic.com/73kub7.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 230px; height: 267px;" src="http://i26.tinypic.com/73kub7.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;I still can't believe he's dead and gone. Why do all historical icons have to die at such young age? Elvis, Marily Monroe, and now Jackson. Alas, his death wasn't even intentional like the other two.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Like most people, i grew up listening to Michael. My family were all mini fans of his. I remember this conversation me and my brother had when i was 10. We were childishly arguing whether being as famous as Michael Jackson was a good thing or not. I said it was, he said it wasn't'. I guess my bro was right.&lt;br /&gt;I know a lot of ppl who look down on him for all he has done. For his skin-bleaching. Well all i can say is that i'm sure it was tough being a successful black kid in the land of disapproving whites. And when he tried to blend in with them, they disapproved even more. White people are hard to please, i guess. As for the sexual molestation charges, all i can say to the accuser is that &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;if your son got sexually molested and you're willing to settle for 30 million US bucks instead of justice, you're definitely fucked up in the head for using your son as a tool for early retirement.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And so MJ died as a screwed up man through the eyes of the public. He's just a man who didn't have a proper childhood, and hence, longs for one through his creation of Neverland, and his love for Peter Pan, the cartoon character which never grows up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am really enjoying the rerun of his songs on the radio, i must admit. They hardly play any MJ songs these days.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.thecommercialbreak.com/music/images/jackson.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 152px; height: 152px;" src="http://www.thecommercialbreak.com/music/images/jackson.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.8notes.com/wiki/images/Mj872.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 133px; height: 132px;" src="http://www.8notes.com/wiki/images/Mj872.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;R.I.P. Pop King&lt;br /&gt;Pity the living, not the dead.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6209156170517866045-9101064922150817891?l=chroniclesofnisha.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://chroniclesofnisha.blogspot.com/feeds/9101064922150817891/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6209156170517866045&amp;postID=9101064922150817891' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6209156170517866045/posts/default/9101064922150817891'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6209156170517866045/posts/default/9101064922150817891'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://chroniclesofnisha.blogspot.com/2009/06/thriller-night.html' title='Thriller Night?'/><author><name>~ da nISha da sTArZ ~</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17993639223556156336</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_XWMuZATG_so/S5Xm28E19BI/AAAAAAAADZ4/CqjfsZclYZE/S220/Untitled.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://i26.tinypic.com/73kub7_th.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6209156170517866045.post-1036827640225627741</id><published>2009-06-19T00:53:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2009-06-19T01:45:50.993+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_XWMuZATG_so/Sjp8uGgkTiI/AAAAAAAAC3g/A3ISZFS5kmo/s1600-h/0000004_apple-ipod-touch.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 323px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_XWMuZATG_so/Sjp8uGgkTiI/AAAAAAAAC3g/A3ISZFS5kmo/s400/0000004_apple-ipod-touch.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5348724638918921762" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;I love my baby.&lt;br /&gt;Only 8 millimeters thin....&lt;br /&gt;the slimmer the sexier.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;(I'm talking about the iTouch not Nelly Furtado)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6209156170517866045-1036827640225627741?l=chroniclesofnisha.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://chroniclesofnisha.blogspot.com/feeds/1036827640225627741/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6209156170517866045&amp;postID=1036827640225627741' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6209156170517866045/posts/default/1036827640225627741'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6209156170517866045/posts/default/1036827640225627741'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://chroniclesofnisha.blogspot.com/2009/06/i-love-my-baby.html' title=''/><author><name>~ da nISha da sTArZ ~</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17993639223556156336</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_XWMuZATG_so/S5Xm28E19BI/AAAAAAAADZ4/CqjfsZclYZE/S220/Untitled.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_XWMuZATG_so/Sjp8uGgkTiI/AAAAAAAAC3g/A3ISZFS5kmo/s72-c/0000004_apple-ipod-touch.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6209156170517866045.post-8064640963871259634</id><published>2009-06-15T23:10:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2009-06-15T23:12:23.561+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Ok i'm gonna quit internetting cold turkey for the next two days. Stupid term paper. Not like i dunno wat to write, more like i know but am just lazy. Haih. Nvm, after that can relax a bit. Oh wait, who am i kidding, there's EXAMS!! I hate third year. Where's all my fun gone??&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6209156170517866045-8064640963871259634?l=chroniclesofnisha.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://chroniclesofnisha.blogspot.com/feeds/8064640963871259634/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6209156170517866045&amp;postID=8064640963871259634' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6209156170517866045/posts/default/8064640963871259634'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6209156170517866045/posts/default/8064640963871259634'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://chroniclesofnisha.blogspot.com/2009/06/ok-im-gonna-quit-internetting-cold.html' title=''/><author><name>~ da nISha da sTArZ ~</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17993639223556156336</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_XWMuZATG_so/S5Xm28E19BI/AAAAAAAADZ4/CqjfsZclYZE/S220/Untitled.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6209156170517866045.post-386481011091688413</id><published>2009-06-12T13:15:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2009-06-12T13:26:22.326+08:00</updated><title type='text'>I HATE PC. I wanna Mac!</title><content type='html'>You wanna hear proof that God does NOT exist?&lt;br /&gt;Well lemme tell u a story.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Little Misha &lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;*(name altered to protect privacy of the real individual)&lt;/span&gt; was panicking because she had a History of Psychology presentation to do on wednesday. Its the thursda before that and she has only found a few goddamn journals. So after doing a bit of a search, she decides to go out with her friends for coffee at starbucks. She innocently brings her laptop along. As she reboots her computer,  something strange happens. Loud music blasts from her laptop when no programs are even open. Then her computer hangs and crashes. Now little &lt;s&gt;Nisha&lt;/s&gt; Misha panicked cos she thought all her documents were lost. She took it to the computer shop the next day only to find out that her data can be retrieved and that she can't use her computer at for the whole day PLUS she has to pay 80 bucks. Hooray. Now she's stuck with her mum's ugly, outdated, small, eye-hurting, short and hard keyboard computer. Lucky her.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sorry Neeroo, i'm still gonna eat beef.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6209156170517866045-386481011091688413?l=chroniclesofnisha.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://chroniclesofnisha.blogspot.com/feeds/386481011091688413/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6209156170517866045&amp;postID=386481011091688413' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6209156170517866045/posts/default/386481011091688413'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6209156170517866045/posts/default/386481011091688413'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://chroniclesofnisha.blogspot.com/2009/06/i-hate-pc-i-wanna-mac.html' title='I HATE PC. I wanna Mac!'/><author><name>~ da nISha da sTArZ ~</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17993639223556156336</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_XWMuZATG_so/S5Xm28E19BI/AAAAAAAADZ4/CqjfsZclYZE/S220/Untitled.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6209156170517866045.post-4675092460715847213</id><published>2009-06-09T00:12:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2009-06-09T00:15:36.449+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Stabbing myself 10 times&lt;br /&gt;would be much less pain than doing&lt;br /&gt; 5 fucking term papers in one sem.&lt;br /&gt;I would,&lt;br /&gt; if someone could guarantee me that&lt;br /&gt; after stabbing myself,&lt;br /&gt;my term papers would disappear. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6209156170517866045-4675092460715847213?l=chroniclesofnisha.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://chroniclesofnisha.blogspot.com/feeds/4675092460715847213/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6209156170517866045&amp;postID=4675092460715847213' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6209156170517866045/posts/default/4675092460715847213'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6209156170517866045/posts/default/4675092460715847213'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://chroniclesofnisha.blogspot.com/2009/06/stabbing-myself-10-times-would-be-much.html' title=''/><author><name>~ da nISha da sTArZ ~</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17993639223556156336</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_XWMuZATG_so/S5Xm28E19BI/AAAAAAAADZ4/CqjfsZclYZE/S220/Untitled.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6209156170517866045.post-6485242584632842026</id><published>2009-06-02T23:23:00.004+08:00</published><updated>2009-06-02T23:45:35.474+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Crash and Burn!!!</title><content type='html'>Wanna hear a few things i DON"T believe in? &lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;(if you said no, too bad)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. God (not yet anyways)&lt;br /&gt;2. Kids&lt;br /&gt;3. Love after marriage&lt;br /&gt;4. Spending wisely wtf&lt;br /&gt;5. And the Asian culture of ''not talking back to your parents"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Really, HOW ON EARTH are you supposed to let them know how u feel when you don't 'talk back' to them? We're not a freaking computer which you program, and we obey without a single noise. Even a computer has an 'ERROR" message once in a way. And if you ignore it, hey guess what? It CRASHES!! Crash and burn...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Gosh, one more thing i want to rant about is one of my lecturers. How can a PhD holder sound like an SPM grad. Haih.&lt;br /&gt;And my Behaviour Modification lecturer today was unusually friendly and chummy. Joining in with my discussions of Angels and Demons with Yong Long &lt;s style="font-style: italic;"&gt;wah, yong long your name on 2 blogs in one day you feel so popular now izzit?? wtf&lt;/s&gt; Honestly, she's not normally like that, untill i felt that she may have been trying to be sarcastic. But she wasn't. Its cute to see lecturers like that. With up and down mood trends. Cute, a bit annoying, but interesting.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I seriously dunno where i'm going with this post.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thanks to Vonne, i tried out my hands at the popular game called "Left 4 Dead" which i am finding extremely hard to get out of my head cos i had so much fun playing it. Dammit, i wanna play now! I think i have the potential to be a Gamer. I mean, i always have, with games like Sims 2 wtf. &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;(dont judge me)&lt;/span&gt;. But still, ever since i was small and used to watch my brother play Counter Strike and Postal (&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;in which you stuff a gun up a cat's ass to use it as a silencer. It goes 'meow meow' instead of bang bang!&lt;/span&gt;), i always wanted to lay my hands on one of these violently unproductive games and now i have! woot! Definitely going back for more.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ok, time to get back to work!&lt;br /&gt;toodles!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6209156170517866045-6485242584632842026?l=chroniclesofnisha.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://chroniclesofnisha.blogspot.com/feeds/6485242584632842026/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6209156170517866045&amp;postID=6485242584632842026' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6209156170517866045/posts/default/6485242584632842026'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6209156170517866045/posts/default/6485242584632842026'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://chroniclesofnisha.blogspot.com/2009/06/crash-and-burn.html' title='Crash and Burn!!!'/><author><name>~ da nISha da sTArZ ~</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17993639223556156336</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_XWMuZATG_so/S5Xm28E19BI/AAAAAAAADZ4/CqjfsZclYZE/S220/Untitled.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6209156170517866045.post-4948989560449663830</id><published>2009-05-31T20:04:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2009-05-31T20:04:08.513+08:00</updated><title type='text'>My change is gonna come..</title><content type='html'>Just watch this video and tell me Adam Lambert isn't supposed to win..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.americanidol.com/videos/season_8/performances/adam_lambert_a_change_is_gonna_come"&gt;Adam Lambert:  "A Change Is Gonna Come" - Performances&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Shared via &lt;a href="http://addthis.com"&gt;AddThis&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6209156170517866045-4948989560449663830?l=chroniclesofnisha.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://chroniclesofnisha.blogspot.com/feeds/4948989560449663830/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6209156170517866045&amp;postID=4948989560449663830' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6209156170517866045/posts/default/4948989560449663830'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6209156170517866045/posts/default/4948989560449663830'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://chroniclesofnisha.blogspot.com/2009/05/my-change-is-gonna-come.html' title='My change is gonna come..'/><author><name>~ da nISha da sTArZ ~</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17993639223556156336</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_XWMuZATG_so/S5Xm28E19BI/AAAAAAAADZ4/CqjfsZclYZE/S220/Untitled.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6209156170517866045.post-2744688588837377874</id><published>2009-05-28T22:21:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2009-05-28T23:02:49.700+08:00</updated><title type='text'>The Coldest Story ever Told..</title><content type='html'>I remember a story once that my mum used to tell me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There was once this little girl who used to love going to kindergarten everyday. Her sole purpose every morning was revolved around going to kindergarten. In fact, her mum used to use that as a way of getting her to do chores. "do this, or you can't go to school".  Then one day, something surprising happened, this girl didn't wanna go to school anymore. She would pretend to sleep, or even pretend to be sick just to get out of going to school. So this girl's mum went to her kindergarten to find out what's wrong. Apparently, her daughter was doing so well in her class that they put her into an advanced class. So while all her friends were stuck in the normal class, this girl had to go to a special class just cos she was 'more advanced than the rest'. So the little girl stop liking kindergarten.&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In case you havn't figured out yet, that little girl was me. Why did i remember that story?? Well, first cos there's evidence that i do not have any brain damage as i used to be smart once, a VERY VERY long time ago. wtf. And also, i keep thinking, what does this say about me? Does it prove that i didn't like to stay at home, or that i loved my friends more than my intellect?? I'm hoping its the latter. Maybe this is one of the signs that i might have ADHD. (which i've recently suspected).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Friends, friends, friends. What would i do without them? If only they'll stop growing wings and flying away from me across the seas. Haihs.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today, i got caught off guard when i was spotted in my shorts and tank top in a food court! Haha. Now i've made a vow to myself to dress up before going out so that if i'm spotted by a cute guy, i will at LEAST look presentable. Am i getting more materialistic? Oooh, yea. Dfinitly.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Maybe at some sub-concious level i stopped being enthusiastic in my studies so that i can keep my friends. Well, i've seen and heard what competitiveness can do to friendships and i don't want to be that person. But seriously, what is my subconcious mind thinking! Heloo?? I need my grades!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sometimes, i hate my sub-concious mind. *up yours!!*&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6209156170517866045-2744688588837377874?l=chroniclesofnisha.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://chroniclesofnisha.blogspot.com/feeds/2744688588837377874/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6209156170517866045&amp;postID=2744688588837377874' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6209156170517866045/posts/default/2744688588837377874'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6209156170517866045/posts/default/2744688588837377874'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://chroniclesofnisha.blogspot.com/2009/05/coldest-story-ever-told.html' title='The Coldest Story ever Told..'/><author><name>~ da nISha da sTArZ ~</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17993639223556156336</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_XWMuZATG_so/S5Xm28E19BI/AAAAAAAADZ4/CqjfsZclYZE/S220/Untitled.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6209156170517866045.post-3594610763624060371</id><published>2009-05-24T14:31:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2009-05-24T14:44:27.855+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Glambert fever wtf</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_XWMuZATG_so/Shjp4TGku7I/AAAAAAAAC3A/-UjkhwUZ3Bg/s1600-h/ADAM-LAMBERT-SEXY-2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 271px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_XWMuZATG_so/Shjp4TGku7I/AAAAAAAAC3A/-UjkhwUZ3Bg/s400/ADAM-LAMBERT-SEXY-2.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5339274511657515954" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ahh. Who on earth would not find Adam Lambert absolutely adorable after seeing this picture? &lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;(rhetorical, don't answer it)&lt;/span&gt;. Well, yea, since the surprising win of Kris Allen, which Allen himself could not believe, there has been quite an uproar to why Adam did not win? Isn't it obvious? Homophobes and devoted religionists &lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;(if there's such a word)&lt;/span&gt;. Who cares? He still has the better vocals, puts on a better show, and always delivers the unexpected with a flourish. Apparently according to a press conference, he said he's already been offered a few recording contracts. Woo hoo. I'll be the first to buy it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'll be the &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;second&lt;/span&gt;, however, to run down to him with my top off like in the video below. Anyone with me?? I'll be saying this while i run&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Gay? Really? Try saying no to &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;these &lt;/span&gt;babies!!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Haha, personally, i don't have anything against gays, but why such a cuute person, u tell me??&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object height="360" width="580"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/08ALTkf2Xpc&amp;amp;hl=en&amp;amp;fs=1&amp;amp;color1=0xcc2550&amp;amp;color2=0xe87a9f&amp;amp;border=1"&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/08ALTkf2Xpc&amp;amp;hl=en&amp;amp;fs=1&amp;amp;color1=0xcc2550&amp;amp;color2=0xe87a9f&amp;amp;border=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" height="360" width="580"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6209156170517866045-3594610763624060371?l=chroniclesofnisha.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://chroniclesofnisha.blogspot.com/feeds/3594610763624060371/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6209156170517866045&amp;postID=3594610763624060371' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6209156170517866045/posts/default/3594610763624060371'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6209156170517866045/posts/default/3594610763624060371'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://chroniclesofnisha.blogspot.com/2009/05/ahh.html' title='Glambert fever wtf'/><author><name>~ da nISha da sTArZ ~</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17993639223556156336</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_XWMuZATG_so/S5Xm28E19BI/AAAAAAAADZ4/CqjfsZclYZE/S220/Untitled.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_XWMuZATG_so/Shjp4TGku7I/AAAAAAAAC3A/-UjkhwUZ3Bg/s72-c/ADAM-LAMBERT-SEXY-2.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6209156170517866045.post-5616342958942638211</id><published>2009-05-16T19:46:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2009-05-16T20:03:13.272+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Idol Fever</title><content type='html'>I'm about to ask a question which i think is on everyone's mind.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Who the hell is KARA??&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yes, where did this self-absorbed, egoistic, big headed bitch come from? Cos i got no idea, do you? I was just watching the re-runs today and i decided that they prolly put her in cos she has a nice face. I mean, come on, lets face it. Randy ain't exactly a Denzel Washington and Paula has been feeding way too much Botox to her wrinkles. So yea, thats my theory.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think the competition this time is very tough. Kris obviously has commercial value that showbiz is looking for. But Adam has the true vocal power and can do ANYTHING with his voice. That, is a true winner when it comes to singing. But i guess American Idol means its up to America. Lets see if they go for &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;conventional&lt;/span&gt;, or &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;ground breaking&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know which i'll go for   ;p&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.huffingtonpost.com/huff-wires/20090311/tv-american-idol/images/21fee61e-8f2b-4c83-a5b0-499c2b986d44.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 269px; height: 199px;" src="http://www.huffingtonpost.com/huff-wires/20090311/tv-american-idol/images/21fee61e-8f2b-4c83-a5b0-499c2b986d44.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);font-size:130%;" &gt;Ground Breaking..&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6209156170517866045-5616342958942638211?l=chroniclesofnisha.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://chroniclesofnisha.blogspot.com/feeds/5616342958942638211/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6209156170517866045&amp;postID=5616342958942638211' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6209156170517866045/posts/default/5616342958942638211'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6209156170517866045/posts/default/5616342958942638211'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://chroniclesofnisha.blogspot.com/2009/05/idol-fever.html' title='Idol Fever'/><author><name>~ da nISha da sTArZ ~</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17993639223556156336</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_XWMuZATG_so/S5Xm28E19BI/AAAAAAAADZ4/CqjfsZclYZE/S220/Untitled.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6209156170517866045.post-3122827212144410406</id><published>2009-05-14T13:26:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2009-05-14T13:53:23.682+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Goodbye Holidays</title><content type='html'>Well, its half past my mid term break and i haven't done anything productive. ANYTHING.&lt;br /&gt;Well, there's mother's day if you count that. I got her some cup cakes which i then decorated with little signs like the pictures below:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_XWMuZATG_so/SgutaS8-2qI/AAAAAAAAC2w/vyc_xHu4dWg/s1600-h/PICT0492.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_XWMuZATG_so/SgutaS8-2qI/AAAAAAAAC2w/vyc_xHu4dWg/s400/PICT0492.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5335548850826304162" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_XWMuZATG_so/SgutaPo-o-I/AAAAAAAAC2o/h-JQjmV9mao/s1600-h/PICT0490.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_XWMuZATG_so/SgutaPo-o-I/AAAAAAAAC2o/h-JQjmV9mao/s400/PICT0490.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5335548849937097698" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;I'm just glad she was surprised, thats all. And that she liked the cupcakes. I got her the peach cupcake whcih she ended up liking. Which just goes to show that i know my mum better than i thought.&lt;br /&gt;I also made a dessert which me and my mum are hitting everyday cos its sooo heavenly (and sinful). I hope the picture doesn't make it look disgusting, cos it looks really good on the eye actually (after I OCD a few times and reshaped the cream icing). The only hard part in making it is to know how long to beat the cream for. Cause if you beat it too long, walla! it turns into butter wtf. Dun ask me how that happens.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_XWMuZATG_so/SgutZ7Pm0AI/AAAAAAAAC2g/i50_-Vb2Lt0/s1600-h/PICT0031.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_XWMuZATG_so/SgutZ7Pm0AI/AAAAAAAAC2g/i50_-Vb2Lt0/s400/PICT0031.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5335548844461969410" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_XWMuZATG_so/Sgutas6clsI/AAAAAAAAC24/ZmqY8kxdtUc/s1600-h/PICT0032.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_XWMuZATG_so/Sgutas6clsI/AAAAAAAAC24/ZmqY8kxdtUc/s400/PICT0032.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5335548857794991810" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;And then, of course, there was the launch of the AUDI Q5 which we assisted in. Thank God nothing bad happened this time. Plus we got free food. Oooh Yeah. But you know what? I already spent RM 20 of the RM100 i made on that day. On what, you ask me? 1 word:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ALCOHOL.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dammit, why do i keep giving in to that. But it was good alcohol. We went to laundry to drink 2 jugs of Long Island Tea for RM77 (which is not bad). So we split it among 7 of us and t came up to about 2 rounds of drink. Then we went and danced our asses off in Sanctuary. In my new heels too! Yes, i danced in heels! I'm officially a plastic girl hohohoh. But I swear when i was idiotically leaning on a balcony in a poserish way with my heels (which i realized only after), i swear this old white guy thought i was a hooker. I quickly straightened up and took out my phone and put one hand on my hip. Which somehow made me look more like a hooker. Just as the guy was approaching me, i walked away, thank heavens. Altho i shud have made a grab for the money first wtf.&lt;br /&gt;And the confusing part is, i dunno if that shud be a compliment. Anyways, i've got to say Santuary plays a good range of music. Every time we were going to leave, they played really good songs over and over, which made us leave like 45 minutes later.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And thats how i'm spending my holidays. That and playing SIMS 2.&lt;br /&gt;Don't judge me wtf.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Toodles.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6209156170517866045-3122827212144410406?l=chroniclesofnisha.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://chroniclesofnisha.blogspot.com/feeds/3122827212144410406/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6209156170517866045&amp;postID=3122827212144410406' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6209156170517866045/posts/default/3122827212144410406'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6209156170517866045/posts/default/3122827212144410406'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://chroniclesofnisha.blogspot.com/2009/05/goodbye-holidays.html' title='Goodbye Holidays'/><author><name>~ da nISha da sTArZ ~</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17993639223556156336</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_XWMuZATG_so/S5Xm28E19BI/AAAAAAAADZ4/CqjfsZclYZE/S220/Untitled.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_XWMuZATG_so/SgutaS8-2qI/AAAAAAAAC2w/vyc_xHu4dWg/s72-c/PICT0492.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6209156170517866045.post-9050896492490747210</id><published>2009-05-04T18:42:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2009-05-04T18:46:49.977+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;No more&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt; drama&lt;/span&gt;, no more &lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;inteference.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;If only you noticed me earlier...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;Well, its too late now&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6209156170517866045-9050896492490747210?l=chroniclesofnisha.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://chroniclesofnisha.blogspot.com/feeds/9050896492490747210/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6209156170517866045&amp;postID=9050896492490747210' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6209156170517866045/posts/default/9050896492490747210'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6209156170517866045/posts/default/9050896492490747210'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://chroniclesofnisha.blogspot.com/2009/05/no-more-drama-no-more-inteference.html' title=''/><author><name>~ da nISha da sTArZ ~</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17993639223556156336</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_XWMuZATG_so/S5Xm28E19BI/AAAAAAAADZ4/CqjfsZclYZE/S220/Untitled.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6209156170517866045.post-2087451525747921918</id><published>2009-05-03T21:08:00.004+08:00</published><updated>2009-05-03T21:35:07.980+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Its a new dawn, its a new day, its a new life.....and i'm feeling goood.</title><content type='html'>Yesterday i went to Times Square for solely one purpose: To spend money.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yep, i heard from several ppl that Sungai Wang Plaza got cheap clothes la. But we went to Times Square since that was the first building we drove by wtf. Hey, not bad ok, we had no idea how to go there but we still buta buta went and tuh duh! we found the place. So anyway. All i have to say about the place is HOLY SHIT.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Holy shit, all the stuff there is freaking dirt cheap. I could hear the birds going *cheap cheap cheap*. Wtf, okay, lame joke. But seriously, i walk into a shop which is everything RM10, and they have not bad clothes there! But one thing is that you can't try it on la. You must know your size and agak agak can fit or not. For me, tops are easy for me to gage, but the bottoms, thanks to my indian genes, always surprise me. I shall not elaborate. wtf.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyways, i spent like total of RM200 on 13 items which brings it to an average of less than RM20 each. But most of the tops i bought was RM10, and i bought this high waisted silk skirt with ruffles for RM40, which was not bad, seeing as i got a similar plain skirt recently for RM90. I really have no more space in my cupboard now. anyone wanna loan me theirs??&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyways, these are some of the items i bought. Everything below was RM25 each, and the black and white overalls thingy was bought off from Jo since it didn't fit her.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_XWMuZATG_so/Sf2ZlrX_10I/AAAAAAAAC2Q/yyM9YrFBGzM/s1600-h/PICT0486.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 326px; height: 244px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_XWMuZATG_so/Sf2ZlrX_10I/AAAAAAAAC2Q/yyM9YrFBGzM/s400/PICT0486.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5331586406454122306" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_XWMuZATG_so/Sf2axiCw4TI/AAAAAAAAC2Y/uXLwVLAbHYk/s1600-h/PICT0488.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 189px; height: 252px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_XWMuZATG_so/Sf2axiCw4TI/AAAAAAAAC2Y/uXLwVLAbHYk/s400/PICT0488.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5331587709619200306" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;For once, i'm happy with everything that i bought, no regrets at all. I bought a few clubbing tops as well, for RM9.90 each. I take my previous words back, online shopping is NOT cheap. Most of the stuff that was selling in Times Square for RM10 is sold online for RM25. So do NOT buy stuff online, man.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And just now, i went to Pasar Malam to eat Lok Lok (our family tradition almost every Sunday) and i saw quite a few DJians there la. The thing is, i dunno how to say hi to my old school friends whom i don't keep in touch with. So to the three DJians i saw, i just said 'Hi!' turned my back and walked off, which was rather bitchy of me. Sorry, its just that i felt that if i stayed and talked, everything would be so fake and i would have to pretend that i care about their lives. I don't do that...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;anymore. wtf. I ignore people i don't care about and don't care about people i ignore. Gosh, i sound so bitter. I swear, its the Term Papers. Maybe after i'm done with Uni, i'll go back to pretending i care about their lives. That reminds me of a line from CHUCK:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Casey (CIA agent assigned to protect Chuck): &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sarah's dad is a conman, he has to be taken in.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Chuck (nerd with intersect in his head): &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No, ......no. At least he's making an effort! I mean, I don't even know where my dad is.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Casey: &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(with stone face) I'm sorry, you've mistaken me for someone who cares about you before the intersect was in your in your head.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;HAHAHAAH. That show cracks me up real hard. Im gonna cut out all the funny parts and compile to watch when i'm depressed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;YEA RITE WHO AM I KIDDING. I don't even have the time. FRIGGIN TERM PAPERS.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Toodles.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6209156170517866045-2087451525747921918?l=chroniclesofnisha.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://chroniclesofnisha.blogspot.com/feeds/2087451525747921918/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6209156170517866045&amp;postID=2087451525747921918' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6209156170517866045/posts/default/2087451525747921918'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6209156170517866045/posts/default/2087451525747921918'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://chroniclesofnisha.blogspot.com/2009/05/its-new-dawn-its-new-day-its-new.html' title='Its a new dawn, its a new day, its a new life.....and i&apos;m feeling goood.'/><author><name>~ da nISha da sTArZ ~</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17993639223556156336</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_XWMuZATG_so/S5Xm28E19BI/AAAAAAAADZ4/CqjfsZclYZE/S220/Untitled.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_XWMuZATG_so/Sf2ZlrX_10I/AAAAAAAAC2Q/yyM9YrFBGzM/s72-c/PICT0486.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6209156170517866045.post-5723474121187017255</id><published>2009-04-25T22:49:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2009-04-25T23:06:51.496+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Hot and Bothered</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.simonandschuster.net/assets/authorkey/37791701/C_37791701.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;I can’t stand it anymore. Its been too hot for just too long. How can anyone function in this heat? Its impossible. For once, I’m actually depending on my air conditioner and staying in my room for that reason. I constantly feel like lashing out at someone. The heat is just ridiculous, I tell u. I think we should be given extra time to complete our assignments since its just so darn hot.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;No, really. &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Haih, just wasted my day today. As I said, its too hot to work so I sat in my air conditioner and read up the book “&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;If I’m missing or dead&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;” by &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Janine Latus&lt;/span&gt;. It’s a true story about herself and how their messed up childhood to adulthood transition led to two sisters being in abusive relationships and not having the willpower to leave.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(85, 26, 139); "&gt;&lt;img src="http://www.femail.com.au/img/ifim_missing_or_dead.jpg" border="0" alt="" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 277px; height: 400px; " /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;It starts off in the current times when Janine’s sister, Amy, has gone missing and her colleagues find a letter taped to the back of her drawer basically saying “If I’m missing or dead, question my boyfriend Ron”.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Then the story digresses to when Janine was little and basically how she lived her life, supported herself, and her relationships with men. Although she described many relationships, half of the book focused on the divorcee she married. As usual, marriage starts off in a lovey-dovey mood, but in 13 years time things start deteriorating really badly. Her husband gets really jealous of her talking to male friends, is constantly paranoid, and gets really angry over small things. He hits her once or twice in the entire marriage though.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;I know what you’re thinking. If he’s hit her, she should leave him. No doubt about that. But once you read it from the woman’s point of view, its really hard to judge the situation. And to be honest, if I were in her situation, I don’t think I would have left that man as early as she did (which was quite late, in the first place). Thats her below.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(85, 26, 139); "&gt;&lt;img src="http://www.simonandschuster.net/assets/authorkey/37791701/C_37791701.jpg" border="0" alt="" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 234px; height: 250px; " /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;It’s a story of willpower, confidence and bravery. Life is not always black and white. Its mostly just grey. A good read, I must say, and its written in a very down to earth manner which keeps you reading it like a Bible wtf. I think every woman should read this at least once before they get married. Just to know what they're in for.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;For the record, i don't wanna get married.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Signing off......&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;ADAM LAMBERT FOR IDOLL....WOOT!.........toodles.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6209156170517866045-5723474121187017255?l=chroniclesofnisha.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://chroniclesofnisha.blogspot.com/feeds/5723474121187017255/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6209156170517866045&amp;postID=5723474121187017255' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6209156170517866045/posts/default/5723474121187017255'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6209156170517866045/posts/default/5723474121187017255'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://chroniclesofnisha.blogspot.com/2009/04/hot-and-bothered.html' title='Hot and Bothered'/><author><name>~ da nISha da sTArZ ~</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17993639223556156336</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_XWMuZATG_so/S5Xm28E19BI/AAAAAAAADZ4/CqjfsZclYZE/S220/Untitled.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6209156170517866045.post-6479317769673367129</id><published>2009-04-24T19:45:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2009-04-24T20:16:37.179+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Hooked, hooked, hooked.</title><content type='html'>Its all your fault SUET!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now i'm hooked to ordering stuff from online. I bought 3 things today. A RM26 brown clincher (which looks so classy, i couldn't resist), a pretty white kimono-style top (RM30), and a RM25 silk top (for me) or dress (for someone shorter than me). I'm getting the silk top in 2 hours cos the girl is COD (cash on delivery) the dress to me since i live in her area. Woot. Free delivery, man!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yes, its all your fault. Now when i do NOT produce a good term paper, i'm blaming you homie.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Last night i went to Uncle Chilli's in Hilton PJ.&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_XWMuZATG_so/SfGsi5-AqrI/AAAAAAAAC2I/_IFAIACGsPQ/s1600-h/PICT0474.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_XWMuZATG_so/SfGsi5-AqrI/AAAAAAAAC2I/_IFAIACGsPQ/s400/PICT0474.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5328229549832448690" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_XWMuZATG_so/SfGsiisGU1I/AAAAAAAAC2A/3vjfTohwb38/s1600-h/PICT0471.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 398px; height: 297px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_XWMuZATG_so/SfGsiisGU1I/AAAAAAAAC2A/3vjfTohwb38/s400/PICT0471.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5328229543583306578" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Like an upper class clubbing place la. So when we went in, there was this indian girl in a red dress (who was fat and looked extremely hooker-like) which was in the next corner from us. She came in a big group. THe reason i mention her is bcos, when we went in, we didn't even notice her. But after she saw us right, she started coming and dancing in front of our table so obviously, sometimes even alone (which makes her look so damn desperate). Me and Neera and the rest of the girls were getting annoyed cos she danced so badly, and we could do a better job but we were waiting for the right song.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then the right song came and we were like "uh huh, WE"RE gonna show you what we call dancing" and we hit the dance floor. Hah, immediately that red bitch went back when we started dancing. After we stopped tho, cos it was a bad song, she came back and kept coming in our face to dance. WAT DA FARK. So anyway, we won the battle hands down. Oh puh- lease, laday.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There was a band that was playing there which i thought was quite good, and there was this girl singing in super short shortss and she didn't exactly have skinny legs la. But still, she was hot in a whore-like way. Anyway, this girl came to me and started hugging me like WTFFFF?? She was so intrigued by my height that she went to everyone and started propaganda-ing my height. Talk about unwanted attention. Then she tried to hook me up with this OLD GUY!! TRIPLE WTF!! She was like "u see that guy there? he's also tall. You should get a guy like him". And i was just smiling politely there till she ask "your boyfriend must be very tall?".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To all you girls out there. This is time for you to learn. When someone asks about your bf, they're not actually wanting to know details about him, they just wanna know if there is a "him" in a first place. So recognizing this question, instead of saying "no i don't hv a bf" i said, yes, he's pretty tall actually. He's middle eastern. HAHAHAHA. Shut up, lemme live in my fantasy for a while wtf. Then she wanted me to hold up my hand to the exact height of my Boyfriend. I did la. Just above my head. Then she hugged me again. WTF.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yes, i'm surprised at what a smooth liar I am sometimes. But hey, i'd rather lie than be talked into dancing with an old fart who might have a heart-attack in 3 moves, thanks.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My flirtacious pose with Gina, Neera's fren.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_XWMuZATG_so/SfGsietNhLI/AAAAAAAAC14/gGRFuPhR0pc/s1600-h/PICT0480.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_XWMuZATG_so/SfGsietNhLI/AAAAAAAAC14/gGRFuPhR0pc/s400/PICT0480.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5328229542514230450" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Okay. Gtg do term paper.&lt;br /&gt;Oh, god, can't you just do it for me and save me all the stress??&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6209156170517866045-6479317769673367129?l=chroniclesofnisha.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://chroniclesofnisha.blogspot.com/feeds/6479317769673367129/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6209156170517866045&amp;postID=6479317769673367129' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6209156170517866045/posts/default/6479317769673367129'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6209156170517866045/posts/default/6479317769673367129'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://chroniclesofnisha.blogspot.com/2009/04/hooked-hooked-hooked.html' title='Hooked, hooked, hooked.'/><author><name>~ da nISha da sTArZ ~</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17993639223556156336</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_XWMuZATG_so/S5Xm28E19BI/AAAAAAAADZ4/CqjfsZclYZE/S220/Untitled.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_XWMuZATG_so/SfGsi5-AqrI/AAAAAAAAC2I/_IFAIACGsPQ/s72-c/PICT0474.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6209156170517866045.post-49168359358052205</id><published>2009-04-20T17:07:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2009-04-20T17:36:18.899+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Adam Lambert for Idol anyone??</title><content type='html'>Yes, the idol fever is back! Woot!&lt;br /&gt;THere are some pretty good talents in this year's show tho.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;I think the best singer so far is Adam Lambert and his superb performances "Play that funky music" and "Black or WHite".&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://idol-mania.com/american-idol-fan/wp-content/uploads/2009/01/adam_lambert_ai8.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 147px; height: 195px;" src="http://idol-mania.com/american-idol-fan/wp-content/uploads/2009/01/adam_lambert_ai8.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;I don't see why he won't be winning. He seems to be top contestant in most weeks, has superb vocals, sings phenomenal songs week after week, and really (and i mean REALLY) knows how to work a crowd. Plus he's amazingly c--uuuuuuuttee as well. Woo hoo! Adam Lambert for Idol!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But then there is also Danny who's quite good cos he keeps singing from his heart and putting emotion into his songs. "Jesus Take the Wheel" and "What hurts the most" i think is two of his best songs la. &lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.mtv.com/news/photos/a/american_idol/09/top36/05_danny_gokey.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 171px; height: 249px;" src="http://www.mtv.com/news/photos/a/american_idol/09/top36/05_danny_gokey.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And besides, i think he'll be getting loads of pity votes cos of his wife who just died la. Thats a plus, i guess.&lt;br /&gt;THen there is also Kris Allen who i think is the best in the show for rearranging the songs. All his songs are modified and sound really good after they are. He;s a risk-taker, which is good in show biz. I think he's the most commercial singer this round. As in, the music business is cut-out for him. &lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.mtv.com/news/photos/a/american_idol/09/top36/27_kris_allen.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 164px; height: 241px;" src="http://www.mtv.com/news/photos/a/american_idol/09/top36/27_kris_allen.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Plus he has this impish charm about him as well *sigh*. Just look at how he's sitting on the chair. He makes even the chair look good wtf.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.cinemarx.ro/stiri-cinema/wp-content/uploads/2009/03/public-enemies-poster.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 298px; height: 442px;" src="http://www.cinemarx.ro/stiri-cinema/wp-content/uploads/2009/03/public-enemies-poster.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;Okay. Now forget idol. Imagine this. Two of your most yummy, dreamt actors that you idolize are cast in a single movie. Mmmmmmm. Well, its come true for me! Believe it or not, Johnny Depp and Christian Bale are acting in a movie called Public Enemies. Johnny Depp is the baddie (like how he is in all my fantasies wtf) and Christian Bale&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.popcritics.com/wp-content/uploads/christian_bale.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 178px; height: 156px;" src="http://www.popcritics.com/wp-content/uploads/christian_bale.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; is the goodie/cop (the role he plays best at). Triple OMG, man. Can't wait for the movie to be released. Its been a year since i watched a Johnny depp movie. YAbaadaabaadooooooooooo.&lt;br /&gt;Ok, i'm calm now. Back to proposal. sob sob.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6209156170517866045-49168359358052205?l=chroniclesofnisha.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://chroniclesofnisha.blogspot.com/feeds/49168359358052205/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6209156170517866045&amp;postID=49168359358052205' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6209156170517866045/posts/default/49168359358052205'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6209156170517866045/posts/default/49168359358052205'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://chroniclesofnisha.blogspot.com/2009/04/adam-lambert-for-idol-anyone.html' title='Adam Lambert for Idol anyone??'/><author><name>~ da nISha da sTArZ ~</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17993639223556156336</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_XWMuZATG_so/S5Xm28E19BI/AAAAAAAADZ4/CqjfsZclYZE/S220/Untitled.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6209156170517866045.post-5525369226280100042</id><published>2009-03-29T14:05:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2009-03-29T14:24:26.482+08:00</updated><title type='text'>More cheerful post</title><content type='html'>I have nothing to blog about today. I'm waiting for the water in my bathroom to heat up so i can have a shower. I'm still reminded of my previous post which haunted my dreams last night. Believe me, it wasn't pretty.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So today i'm gonna blog about what i bought yesterday, and the fact that i am now using iTunes! I switched from WMP to iTunes mostly cos i wanted to see what was so good about it that Marcus and Yvonne was using it all the time. I got hooked immediately cos of how organized it is, and how u get to see all the album art at once wtf. Like this:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_XWMuZATG_so/Sc8RSprA1fI/AAAAAAAAC1g/NchW6bldZwM/s1600-h/untitled.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 250px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_XWMuZATG_so/Sc8RSprA1fI/AAAAAAAAC1g/NchW6bldZwM/s400/untitled.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5318488697069426162" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Cool right? I actually looked up every album art and pasted it. Yes, i have OCD tendencies. Don't judge me wtf. But the good thing is that it doesn't have to store the album art on your computer like WMP does. U can paste it and delete it straight away and it will still look like above.&lt;br /&gt;Man, i must be bored to blog about this.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Next, yesterday me and my mummy went Make-Up shopping! What a bimbo thing to do right? well its bonding i guess. I chose a lipstick colour from Maybeline for my mum, which she ended up liking, and i got a compact powder for myself and a lipgloss from Revlon. Cos Revlon is the only comercial brand here that manufactures stuff for dark people like me.You go, revlon!&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_XWMuZATG_so/Sc8RTNPLgaI/AAAAAAAAC1w/mmP86XDWJnI/s1600-h/41AGKZVQSFL._AA280_PIbundle-2,TopRight,0,0_AA280_SH20_.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 188px; height: 188px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_XWMuZATG_so/Sc8RTNPLgaI/AAAAAAAAC1w/mmP86XDWJnI/s400/41AGKZVQSFL._AA280_PIbundle-2,TopRight,0,0_AA280_SH20_.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5318488706616361378" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_XWMuZATG_so/Sc8RTM1CzDI/AAAAAAAAC1o/pvh-rP8ienA/s1600-h/P-CstayMinLGlaze-lg.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 159px; height: 209px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_XWMuZATG_so/Sc8RTM1CzDI/AAAAAAAAC1o/pvh-rP8ienA/s400/P-CstayMinLGlaze-lg.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5318488706506738738" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; I dunno why, but we started discussing the fact that my last compact powder was almost finished before i dropped it and it all broke. *little miss clumsy* So then my mum said we shud get another one. Well, it would be good for my internship i guess. Touch ups wtf. But the lip gloss was pure impulse buy. ut i do use it for occasions when i dress up in my indian clothes and wanna look pwetty. (which is 3 times a year wtf) Oh, stop it. Lemme convince myself that i need it ok?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh look, water's heated up.&lt;br /&gt;Toodles.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6209156170517866045-5525369226280100042?l=chroniclesofnisha.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://chroniclesofnisha.blogspot.com/feeds/5525369226280100042/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6209156170517866045&amp;postID=5525369226280100042' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6209156170517866045/posts/default/5525369226280100042'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6209156170517866045/posts/default/5525369226280100042'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://chroniclesofnisha.blogspot.com/2009/03/more-cheerful-post.html' title='More cheerful post'/><author><name>~ da nISha da sTArZ ~</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17993639223556156336</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_XWMuZATG_so/S5Xm28E19BI/AAAAAAAADZ4/CqjfsZclYZE/S220/Untitled.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_XWMuZATG_so/Sc8RSprA1fI/AAAAAAAAC1g/NchW6bldZwM/s72-c/untitled.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6209156170517866045.post-6408441977204890800</id><published>2009-03-28T12:32:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2009-03-28T12:51:19.031+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Are we animals, after all?</title><content type='html'>Humans are the only race that actually kills each other intentionally. I heard this from somewhere. Why are we defined as "Humans" though? Cos we can talk, think and reason, unlike animals? Well, I don't think so. We are simply defined as 'humans' so we can assure ourselves that we are powerful, and assume control over the environment.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The video below shows the ugly side of humans. It makes murderers, robbers and terrorists look like angels. Please do watch. A message is trying to be passed out here.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/_uN5fC-kdUQ&amp;amp;hl=en&amp;amp;fs=1"&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/_uN5fC-kdUQ&amp;amp;hl=en&amp;amp;fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thanks, Yong Long for sharing this with me. When i watched it, i actually screamed out loud and cried. Most of us can't even hadle period pains, can u imagine what these animals are going through? Its not like they NEED to skin them alive. The kind thing would be to put them to sleep before skinning them, but you think they care? Why, WHY when we have so many options do the people still WANT to inflict pain? Yes, it will add to the cost to put them to sleep first. But if someone is willing to kill an animal purely for fashion, don't you think that the someone should also be prepared to pay a hefty amount? After all, no price can be put on a life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But not in the fashion world.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know there's not much we as students can do to stop these rituals in a country that cracks open and eats a monkey's brain alive or chops off a shark's fin and leave it do die in the waters, but the most we can do is NOT SUPPORT THEM. I think that a law should be passed that whoever wants to wear fur, has to make it themselves. Just because you didn't see first hand what the animals went through to make you look like a diva, doesn't mean you didn't participate in it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Where's the empathy in this world?&lt;br /&gt;I hope and wish and expect these cruel bastards who did and does this to have a short live and spend the rest of eternity being skinned alive in hell. Yes, i mean it.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6209156170517866045-6408441977204890800?l=chroniclesofnisha.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://chroniclesofnisha.blogspot.com/feeds/6408441977204890800/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6209156170517866045&amp;postID=6408441977204890800' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6209156170517866045/posts/default/6408441977204890800'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6209156170517866045/posts/default/6408441977204890800'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://chroniclesofnisha.blogspot.com/2009/03/are-we-animals-after-all.html' title='Are we animals, after all?'/><author><name>~ da nISha da sTArZ ~</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17993639223556156336</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_XWMuZATG_so/S5Xm28E19BI/AAAAAAAADZ4/CqjfsZclYZE/S220/Untitled.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6209156170517866045.post-4450094297336243586</id><published>2009-03-23T23:24:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2009-03-23T23:44:15.311+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Red heads and Blondies</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://i533.photobucket.com/albums/ee336/exclusiveblog/ConfessionsPost111.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 364px; height: 530px;" src="http://i533.photobucket.com/albums/ee336/exclusiveblog/ConfessionsPost111.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, i JUST came out of a sneak preview. Watched &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Confessions of a Shopaholic&lt;/span&gt; which was adapted from the book written by &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Sophie Kinsella&lt;/span&gt;. Firstly, i must say it was hilarious, entertaining and really kept you feeling all her embarrassing moments. Like her famous Fan Dance.*covers face*  Oh, it was gooood. I thought the guy who played Luke Brandon was very suitable. Almost like how i imagined it which, lets face it, almost never turns out. Also, the girl who played Suze was Purrrr-fect. Actually, the characters in the movie was so much like the book. Even the main girl.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You know how you read a book and feel like you know the characters? And then you watched the movie version and the main character feels like a stranger to you? Well, this was totally NOT that kind of movie. But the story line was vastly different tho. I still preferred the original storyline. The movie concentrated much more on her romance with Luke but in a very different way. Luke even had a different job in the movie. Oh well, you can't have everything, i guess. But still, i've never come across an adaptation of a book that is true to its storyline. If you read Twilight and watched the movie, you'll know what i mean. *barf*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, thanks to Suets for getting us the free tickets! You go girlfriend!! She was also telling me about the New &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Britney Spears&lt;/span&gt; song that i thought didn't make sense: &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;If you seek Amy&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Amy? AMY?? Who the hell is AMY??!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Does anyone geddit? Well i didn't too untill she told me. This was the issue with the sensorship board.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Try saying this: "If U Seek Amy"&lt;br /&gt;Now try saying this: "F - U - C - K me" (say each letter of the first word seperately)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Uh huh. Now put two and two together.......(i'll give u a moment)......&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now does it make sense?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;"All the boys and all the girls are begging to&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; &lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;if u seek amy&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;"&lt;br /&gt;and&lt;br /&gt;"ohh baby baby &lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;if u seek amy&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; tonight"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I dunno why but i thought this was pretty genius of her. Oh well. I always thought the song was dark anyway. Somehow it reminded me of the little girl in The Ring. Especially the "ha ha hee hee ha ha ha" part. LOL.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Have a goodnight everyone.&lt;br /&gt;Toodles.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6209156170517866045-4450094297336243586?l=chroniclesofnisha.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://chroniclesofnisha.blogspot.com/feeds/4450094297336243586/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6209156170517866045&amp;postID=4450094297336243586' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6209156170517866045/posts/default/4450094297336243586'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6209156170517866045/posts/default/4450094297336243586'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://chroniclesofnisha.blogspot.com/2009/03/red-heads-and-blondies.html' title='Red heads and Blondies'/><author><name>~ da nISha da sTArZ ~</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17993639223556156336</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_XWMuZATG_so/S5Xm28E19BI/AAAAAAAADZ4/CqjfsZclYZE/S220/Untitled.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6209156170517866045.post-8587659746790703394</id><published>2009-03-22T17:32:00.004+08:00</published><updated>2009-03-28T12:24:27.984+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Talk about sarcastic</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://gipilix.files.wordpress.com/2008/05/house-md-promo-season-4_06.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 347px; height: 462px;" src="http://gipilix.files.wordpress.com/2008/05/house-md-promo-season-4_06.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;House really cracks me up sometimes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Foreman:&lt;/span&gt; We have to remove her left eye or she'll die.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;House&lt;/span&gt;: No, we don't (dismisses foreman).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Foreman:&lt;/span&gt; Yes, we do.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;House: &lt;/span&gt;Its not her eye thats causing it. Besides, the left eye is her only seeing eye!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Foreman&lt;/span&gt;: Well, we could remove the other eye, but since its not giving her any trouble, i thought this way would be less insane.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hahaha. I love the humor in House MD. One thing though, they don't give you enough time to laugh over their punch lines.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6209156170517866045-8587659746790703394?l=chroniclesofnisha.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://chroniclesofnisha.blogspot.com/feeds/8587659746790703394/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6209156170517866045&amp;postID=8587659746790703394' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6209156170517866045/posts/default/8587659746790703394'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6209156170517866045/posts/default/8587659746790703394'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://chroniclesofnisha.blogspot.com/2009/03/talk-about-sarcastic.html' title='Talk about sarcastic'/><author><name>~ da nISha da sTArZ ~</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17993639223556156336</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_XWMuZATG_so/S5Xm28E19BI/AAAAAAAADZ4/CqjfsZclYZE/S220/Untitled.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6209156170517866045.post-1666543222904568949</id><published>2009-03-21T16:33:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2009-03-21T16:57:09.768+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Why, WHY????</title><content type='html'>Today i'm gonna bitch about people whom are selfish, lazy, no social life except uni, and thinks about nothing much other than studies/academic work. In case u all dunno, our department is FILLED with people like this. And being one of the few "normal" people in our department, it makes me feel like an outcast.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why am i ticked off? Well, lemme see. For once, ONCE in my whole sorry fucking uni life am i so happy about my timetable for the next sem. Classes start at 11am instead of the 9am classes we get, and even better, only one class on tuesday at 2.30 to 4.30! which means that i can spend more time at home with my mum and have lunch with her, or do up my assignments that morning. Or even pamper my cats for an extra 15 minutes which i don't have time to do everyday. YES ITS IMPORTANT. Don't judge me wtf.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;BUT NO!! Some lifeless kiasu shit had to CHANGE it. Whether its a student or a teacher, i don't give a flying fuck, i'm gonna spend the rest of the sem hating that person, most likely a '&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;her"&lt;/span&gt;. So what now? We have to wake up and be in college at EIGHT THIRTHY to attend 1 fuccking lecture on monday, cos the second lecture has been moved to tuesday morning cos some dumb ass's life is apparently at stake if we have 1 class on tuesday at 2.30. Its either 1 class on tuesday at 2.30 or on Monday at 8.30 so WHY THE FUCK MAKE US WAKE UP EARLY TO COME FOR 1 FUCKING CLASS??&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;[to my dear cousins, i'm so sorry for swearing this much, i don't normally do that (cough cough). I think u guys should go watch Kim Possible or something.]&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All i have to say is, if its a student who changed it, shame on you, you selfish bitch/bastard whichever. Thanks for taking for granted that everyperson is as lifeless as you to wanna wake up early and come to listen to some lecturer drone on. I hope you trip and hit your head really hard on the classroom door every monday.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If its a lecturer, then thanks for making my Uni life in Sunway more miserable than it can get, and you OBVIOUSLY did not know what the meaning of the word "fun" was, when u were 20. Shit Luck to you when you drive to college everyday!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Amen.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To the rest of you Angels in class, may lollipops and butterscotch rain all over you. (Thats a &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;good&lt;/span&gt; thing in case you're wondering)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Toodles.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6209156170517866045-1666543222904568949?l=chroniclesofnisha.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://chroniclesofnisha.blogspot.com/feeds/1666543222904568949/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6209156170517866045&amp;postID=1666543222904568949' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6209156170517866045/posts/default/1666543222904568949'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6209156170517866045/posts/default/1666543222904568949'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://chroniclesofnisha.blogspot.com/2009/03/why-why.html' title='Why, WHY????'/><author><name>~ da nISha da sTArZ ~</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17993639223556156336</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_XWMuZATG_so/S5Xm28E19BI/AAAAAAAADZ4/CqjfsZclYZE/S220/Untitled.jpg'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6209156170517866045.post-6766466356786489991</id><published>2009-03-17T16:09:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2009-03-17T16:13:16.131+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Geekdom</title><content type='html'>To all of u who use MSN messenger, which means to ALL of you, there is a new update out there! Version 9.0! You can download skins and use it with this version as well!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here's what my computer looks like after a makeover with a new desktop picture and a fancy theme for MSN (adjusts spectacles):&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_XWMuZATG_so/Sb9bVA1VxhI/AAAAAAAAC0o/vRDirjdzKRE/s1600-h/untitled.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 200px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_XWMuZATG_so/Sb9bVA1VxhI/AAAAAAAAC0o/vRDirjdzKRE/s320/untitled.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5314066501879580178" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Damn nice right?&lt;br /&gt;Ok, i shall go back to painting my fingernails *bimbo moment*&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6209156170517866045-6766466356786489991?l=chroniclesofnisha.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://chroniclesofnisha.blogspot.com/feeds/6766466356786489991/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6209156170517866045&amp;postID=6766466356786489991' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6209156170517866045/posts/default/6766466356786489991'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6209156170517866045/posts/default/6766466356786489991'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://chroniclesofnisha.blogspot.com/2009/03/geekdom.html' title='Geekdom'/><author><name>~ da nISha da sTArZ ~</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17993639223556156336</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_XWMuZATG_so/S5Xm28E19BI/AAAAAAAADZ4/CqjfsZclYZE/S220/Untitled.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_XWMuZATG_so/Sb9bVA1VxhI/AAAAAAAAC0o/vRDirjdzKRE/s72-c/untitled.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6209156170517866045.post-553974628556364824</id><published>2009-03-16T11:19:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2009-03-16T11:53:17.246+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Jingle Bell, Jingle Bell, Jingle Bell Rock!</title><content type='html'>Hey everyone! This is my first post in a long long time, i know!&lt;br /&gt;What with the exams and studying and planning for our Psychology Night dance (which was a success btw). Now i'm on 2 weeks break, of which 1 week i completely wasted! Well, not really. I went out with friends so many times, had a few late nights and coffee gatherings, i wouldn't really call it a waste.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So our Psychology night? Well, the theme was Christmas Masquerade and it was a relatively small affair but quite enjoyable. The head of Pychology from Lancaster came with this Forensic Psychologist and they were both super tall that i felt normal on that night!&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos-b.ak.fbcdn.net/photos-ak-snc1/v2620/46/57/775800133/n775800133_6126913_5538173.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 475px; height: 315px;" src="http://photos-b.ak.fbcdn.net/photos-ak-snc1/v2620/46/57/775800133/n775800133_6126913_5538173.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yea, this was the photo we wanted to take with them, and they pushed me in the middle next to the Forensic Psychologist cos she also was happy that there was another tall girl present wtf.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There were quite a few performance to keep the audience entertained. Of course, our dance was the closing performance la, dunno why. Either cos it was awesome or cos it sucked. Hmm. U be the judge. The song started out with Jingle Bell Rock, to Piece of Me and When I Grow Up but unfortunately, no one thought of filming our jingle bell rock which was the most awesome part. Sniff sniff. We practice so hard and no one cares?? *wet eyes*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, here are a few pictures from the suggestive Jingle Bell Rock before the hip hop dances.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos-e.ak.fbcdn.net/photos-ak-snc1/v2620/46/57/775800133/n775800133_6126868_5521800.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 458px; height: 304px;" src="http://photos-e.ak.fbcdn.net/photos-ak-snc1/v2620/46/57/775800133/n775800133_6126868_5521800.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos-f.ak.fbcdn.net/photos-ak-snc1/v2620/46/57/775800133/n775800133_6126869_1568560.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 460px; height: 306px;" src="http://photos-f.ak.fbcdn.net/photos-ak-snc1/v2620/46/57/775800133/n775800133_6126869_1568560.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;That photo was our controversial ass swinging move. Wtf.&lt;br /&gt;Then....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/O_zVmacTu6k&amp;amp;hl=en&amp;amp;fs=1&amp;amp;color1=0x5d1719&amp;amp;color2=0xcd311b"&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/O_zVmacTu6k&amp;amp;hl=en&amp;amp;fs=1&amp;amp;color1=0x5d1719&amp;amp;color2=0xcd311b" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Enjoy!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After the night was over we entered BarCelona with our free passes and lo and behold, there was a police raid. Interesting experience if i wasn't so pissed cos i couldn't drink. The police brought cameras and stuff to film 'isu isu remaja zaman sekarang' sort of thing. Whatever la. Do i give a flying fuck about what adults think about young partying teenagers? hmm, lemme think...NO.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And after a police raid, a fight nearly broke out in the club and thats when i thought "I've had ENOUGH!". My exams are over, i wanna get drunk and all this shit is happening. Lucky my two dates for the night (yea, i'm a playa wtf) Yvonne and Dinesh were up for drinking in the padang opposite her house. Yes, so we did that, and went bak home. Overall it was a fun night la. COuld have been better but it was good as it is.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thanks to the organizing commitee for pulling off an extroadinary night!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Will be back with more updates sooon!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6209156170517866045-553974628556364824?l=chroniclesofnisha.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://chroniclesofnisha.blogspot.com/feeds/553974628556364824/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6209156170517866045&amp;postID=553974628556364824' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6209156170517866045/posts/default/553974628556364824'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6209156170517866045/posts/default/553974628556364824'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://chroniclesofnisha.blogspot.com/2009/03/jingle-bell-jingle-bell-jingle-bell.html' title='Jingle Bell, Jingle Bell, Jingle Bell Rock!'/><author><name>~ da nISha da sTArZ ~</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17993639223556156336</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_XWMuZATG_so/S5Xm28E19BI/AAAAAAAADZ4/CqjfsZclYZE/S220/Untitled.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6209156170517866045.post-7991097865505090529</id><published>2009-03-01T15:01:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2009-03-01T15:17:15.566+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Why so serious?</title><content type='html'>This post is gonna be about my phone. I am such a Joker fan that my message ringtone is actually Joker saying: &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;"WHY SO SERIOUS??"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The result of that? I get really bad stares when i forget to put my phone on silent in quiet places like my lecture, or the library. Yep, it went off in both this places. At least my lecturer has a sense of humor and didn't reprimand me for it. Then again, i buat tak tau aja la, so he doesn't know its my phone. But still.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The worst time was in the library. As i was walking in, my dear Suet Ling had to text me at that precise moment. Love u darls! I had like 500 ppl sharply turn their head in my direction while the giggling me was fumbling to quieten my phone. Ok, maybe not 500. I'm such a drama queen sometimes. But the ironic thing was, they stared at me so seriously! I felt like asking them again WHY SO SERIOUS??&lt;br /&gt;I really love my ringtone. U know why? I can be concentrating on doing something totally random like unlocking the gate or changing my clothes, and when someone messages me, it kind of reminds me to be brighter and happier. &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Yes, i'm such a geek that my phone actualy cheers me up WTF.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And also, when i'm really stressed out, and studying my ass off for my exams (like i am doin this past week and a half), and always on the verge of tears, i can actually scream my frustrations out at my phone.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Phone (in joker's voice): WHY SO SERIOUS???&lt;br /&gt;Me                                   : Cos i got EXAMS LA!! WHY ASK STUPID QUESTIONS!!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;(quickly opens door to see if anyone heard)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yep, i actually shouted at my phone which has an imaginary personality(Dont judge me, wtf). Thats how you know you're stressed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;God, i love my phone. Dammit, i haven't named it.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6209156170517866045-7991097865505090529?l=chroniclesofnisha.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://chroniclesofnisha.blogspot.com/feeds/7991097865505090529/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6209156170517866045&amp;postID=7991097865505090529' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6209156170517866045/posts/default/7991097865505090529'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6209156170517866045/posts/default/7991097865505090529'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://chroniclesofnisha.blogspot.com/2009/03/why-so-serious.html' title='Why so serious?'/><author><name>~ da nISha da sTArZ ~</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17993639223556156336</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_XWMuZATG_so/S5Xm28E19BI/AAAAAAAADZ4/CqjfsZclYZE/S220/Untitled.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6209156170517866045.post-4669092527725511086</id><published>2009-02-22T18:59:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2009-02-22T19:08:51.395+08:00</updated><title type='text'>ATTENTION!!</title><content type='html'>Today my mum fell victim to one of the most common thefts around: Handbag snatching. Except she was not walking when it happened. It happened when she was in the car during a traffic light. Someone came on a bike, smashed the window of the passenger side (beside the driver) and took her handbag which was on the passenger seat.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is exactly the reason i do not keep my bag on the passenger seat, but on the floor of the passenger seat which is harder to reach.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;PLEASE DO NOT TAKE THIS LIGHTLY.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I keep telling my friends NOT to do this but no one really takes this seriously. My mum usually keeps her bag behind the handbrakes, and just this once that she left it on the passenger seat, it got swiped. In the end, its better to be paranoid than risk everything getting stolen as it is QUITE a hassle to cancel all your cards and change the whole set of locks in your house. So please, whether student or grandma, &lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);font-size:130%;" &gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;DO NOT EVER EVER KEEP YOUR BAG ON THE PASSENGER SEAT ESPECIALLY IF YOU"RE DRIVING ALONE AND YOU"RE A WOMAN&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6209156170517866045-4669092527725511086?l=chroniclesofnisha.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://chroniclesofnisha.blogspot.com/feeds/4669092527725511086/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6209156170517866045&amp;postID=4669092527725511086' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6209156170517866045/posts/default/4669092527725511086'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6209156170517866045/posts/default/4669092527725511086'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://chroniclesofnisha.blogspot.com/2009/02/attention.html' title='ATTENTION!!'/><author><name>~ da nISha da sTArZ ~</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17993639223556156336</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_XWMuZATG_so/S5Xm28E19BI/AAAAAAAADZ4/CqjfsZclYZE/S220/Untitled.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6209156170517866045.post-9147857763460357791</id><published>2009-02-21T19:58:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2009-02-21T20:09:09.121+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Realization</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_XWMuZATG_so/SZ_uh5d2tzI/AAAAAAAACzw/N8WyCPwX0T8/s1600-h/DSC01434.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_XWMuZATG_so/SZ_uh5d2tzI/AAAAAAAACzw/N8WyCPwX0T8/s320/DSC01434.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5305221152194869042" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;My cat Loves Cheddar cheese&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now THATS what you call high maintenance. I also just noticed she hangs out with a white cat who's probably like her &lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;"&gt;homie,&lt;/span&gt; get it? One day when i came back from college, i saw her trot to me and urging me to open the gate. 2 meters away was the white cat meowing so sweetly at her. I think they had a row or something. So cute. &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Whats more entertaining than a cats social life&lt;/span&gt;?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Errr....real human social life?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The thing about watching &lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;"&gt;Gossip Girl&lt;/span&gt; is that it actually exist everywhere. We're just watching a dramafied version of some people's ideal life. Boy, life must be sucky.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6209156170517866045-9147857763460357791?l=chroniclesofnisha.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://chroniclesofnisha.blogspot.com/feeds/9147857763460357791/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6209156170517866045&amp;postID=9147857763460357791' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6209156170517866045/posts/default/9147857763460357791'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6209156170517866045/posts/default/9147857763460357791'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://chroniclesofnisha.blogspot.com/2009/02/realization.html' title='Realization'/><author><name>~ da nISha da sTArZ ~</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17993639223556156336</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_XWMuZATG_so/S5Xm28E19BI/AAAAAAAADZ4/CqjfsZclYZE/S220/Untitled.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_XWMuZATG_so/SZ_uh5d2tzI/AAAAAAAACzw/N8WyCPwX0T8/s72-c/DSC01434.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6209156170517866045.post-4544710178468336299</id><published>2009-02-20T18:11:00.005+08:00</published><updated>2009-02-20T23:17:02.048+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Tagged by Krunz and Deva.</title><content type='html'>Ok, thank god i waited before i did Krunz's tag or else i have to do it twice wtf.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);font-size:130%;" &gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Rules:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);font-size:130%;" &gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;It's harder than it looks! Copy to your own note, erase my answers, enter yours, and tag twenty people.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);font-size:130%;" &gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Use the first letter of your name to answer each of the following questions. They have to be real...nothing made up! If the person before you had the same first initial, you must use different answers. You cannot use any word twice and you can't use your name for the boy/girl name question.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-size:130%;" &gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;1. What is your name:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 255, 153);font-size:180%;" &gt;Nisha&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;2. A four Letter Word:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Never.....oh, damn, that's 5.&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 255, 153);"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 255, 153);font-size:180%;" &gt;Nice&lt;/span&gt;?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;3.  A boy's name:&lt;br /&gt;Boys are s&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;tupid&lt;/span&gt;....wakakaka. They don't deserve names.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4. A girl's name:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 255, 153);font-size:180%;" &gt;Natalie&lt;/span&gt; *glam*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5. An occupation:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 255, 153);font-size:180%;" &gt;Nose Piercer&lt;/span&gt; (i always wanted to be one. Dunno what happened)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;6. A colour:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 255, 153);font-size:180%;" &gt;Nasty Pink?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;7. Something you'll wear:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 255, 153);font-size:180%;" &gt;Nothing&lt;/span&gt;. Why do i have such a hard initial.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;8. A food:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 255, 153);"&gt;Nachos&lt;/span&gt;. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;9. Something found in the Bathroom:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 255, 153);font-size:180%;" &gt;Not a lot of toothpaste&lt;/span&gt; wtf.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 255, 153);"&gt;10. A place:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 255, 153);font-size:180%;" &gt;Netherlands&lt;/span&gt; - i once talked to this hot dude from Netherlands in the Penang beach....haihh.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;11. A reason for being late:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 255, 153);font-size:130%;" &gt;Not wearing my shades.&lt;/span&gt; Very bimbo, i know. Could think of nothing else.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;12. Something you'd shout:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 255, 153);"&gt;Not Again&lt;/span&gt;!&lt;/span&gt; *flicks hair*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;13. A movie title:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 255, 153);font-size:180%;" &gt;Nim's Island&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;14. Something you drink:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 255, 153);font-size:180%;" &gt;Neat Whiskey&lt;/span&gt;. They're yummy!! Stirred, not shaken please!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;15. A musical group:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 255, 153);font-size:180%;" &gt;Nsync.&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt; &lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;woo! Go JT!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;16. An animal:&lt;br /&gt;can i change my initial? Dammit. Errr...&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 255, 153);font-size:180%;" &gt;Newt&lt;/span&gt;? thats the only one i could google.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;17. A street name:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 255, 153);font-size:180%;" &gt;Never ending road&lt;/span&gt;. Hehe. The demon barber...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;18. A type of car&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 255, 153);font-size:180%;" &gt;NazaRia?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;19. Title of a song:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 255, 153);font-size:180%;" &gt;Never Again&lt;/span&gt; - Kelly Clarkson.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Hmm. And i tagg...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(204, 102, 204);"&gt;Marcus&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(204, 102, 204);"&gt;Neeroo&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(204, 102, 204);"&gt;Yong Long&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(204, 102, 204);"&gt;Suets&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(204, 102, 204);"&gt;CRZ&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(204, 102, 204);"&gt;Fiki&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(204, 102, 204);"&gt;Z Sern&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6209156170517866045-4544710178468336299?l=chroniclesofnisha.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://chroniclesofnisha.blogspot.com/feeds/4544710178468336299/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6209156170517866045&amp;postID=4544710178468336299' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6209156170517866045/posts/default/4544710178468336299'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6209156170517866045/posts/default/4544710178468336299'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://chroniclesofnisha.blogspot.com/2009/02/tagged-by-krunz-and-deva.html' title='Tagged by Krunz and Deva.'/><author><name>~ da nISha da sTArZ ~</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17993639223556156336</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_XWMuZATG_so/S5Xm28E19BI/AAAAAAAADZ4/CqjfsZclYZE/S220/Untitled.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6209156170517866045.post-43669867653840948</id><published>2009-02-09T17:41:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2009-02-09T17:47:06.905+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Nerdy manifestation</title><content type='html'>Lo' and behold!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've found a geeky obsession for the next month!&lt;br /&gt;No, its not poker or mahjong or what not. It is........*drum roll*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center; font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;MONOPOLY!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_XWMuZATG_so/SY_6zniXDhI/AAAAAAAACyg/xUI-7FiGoUs/s1600-h/untitled.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_XWMuZATG_so/SY_6zniXDhI/AAAAAAAACyg/xUI-7FiGoUs/s400/untitled.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5300731051131735570" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: normal;font-size:100%;" &gt;It says: &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Nisha wins the game with &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;$10288 in cash&lt;/span&gt; and &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;properties valued at $8570&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: normal;"&gt;Am I a hustler or wert??&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6209156170517866045-43669867653840948?l=chroniclesofnisha.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://chroniclesofnisha.blogspot.com/feeds/43669867653840948/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6209156170517866045&amp;postID=43669867653840948' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6209156170517866045/posts/default/43669867653840948'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6209156170517866045/posts/default/43669867653840948'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://chroniclesofnisha.blogspot.com/2009/02/nerdy-manifestation.html' title='Nerdy manifestation'/><author><name>~ da nISha da sTArZ ~</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17993639223556156336</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_XWMuZATG_so/S5Xm28E19BI/AAAAAAAADZ4/CqjfsZclYZE/S220/Untitled.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_XWMuZATG_so/SY_6zniXDhI/AAAAAAAACyg/xUI-7FiGoUs/s72-c/untitled.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6209156170517866045.post-5116245626010857864</id><published>2009-01-31T19:00:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2009-01-31T19:14:22.044+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Bollywood Vs Hollywood</title><content type='html'>I now know why i hate Hindi movies so much. I actually spent time thinking WHY i despise bollywood, and whats the difference between bollywood and hollywood.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 255, 153);"&gt;In &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(153, 255, 153);"&gt;Hollywood&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 255, 153);"&gt;, the acting there is much less dramtised &lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;(is that a word even?) &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;and much more realitic&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 153, 102);"&gt;In &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 153, 102);"&gt;Bollywood&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 153, 102);"&gt;, every event is exxagerated by 10 times and of course, its totally unrealisti if they keep popping up on various mountains around the world and waving their scarves. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;But thats not why.&lt;br /&gt;Cos the songs and the drama can actually work for some movies.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 255, 153);"&gt;n &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(153, 255, 153);"&gt;Hollywood&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 255, 153);"&gt;, for most movies, the actors must audition for the part they want. Even big shot actors. This keeps their acting skills brushed up and their willingness to try various characters.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 153, 102);"&gt;In &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 153, 102);"&gt;Bollywood&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 153, 102);"&gt; films, the directors are the ones that assign an actor for a specific film. The actor is, of course, allowed to decline. So, it only makes sense that the actors and actreses are cocky, and think of themselves as big diva's because so often the directors are the ones that practically beg them to act in their movie. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hence, Indian actors and actresses will never be as good as they can be because nothing is pushing them to possess better acting skills. Besides, half of them are just pretty model-face turned actress anyways. So maybe if the Directors start introducing auditions&lt;span style="font-style: italic;font-size:85%;" &gt; (in which actors have to prove their skills once and for all)&lt;/span&gt;, and not kissing up to the actors asses, maybe India's acting talents would not be so stagnant after all.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Amen.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Very random, i know. But so many people ask me why i don't like Bollywood shows. And just cos i'm indian, i'm not obliged to  lovvvee them even if they suck okay? And they do suck. And this is why they suck.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Helloooo Hollywoood!! *princess wave*&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6209156170517866045-5116245626010857864?l=chroniclesofnisha.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://chroniclesofnisha.blogspot.com/feeds/5116245626010857864/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6209156170517866045&amp;postID=5116245626010857864' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6209156170517866045/posts/default/5116245626010857864'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6209156170517866045/posts/default/5116245626010857864'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://chroniclesofnisha.blogspot.com/2009/01/bollywood-vs-hollywood.html' title='Bollywood Vs Hollywood'/><author><name>~ da nISha da sTArZ ~</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17993639223556156336</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_XWMuZATG_so/S5Xm28E19BI/AAAAAAAADZ4/CqjfsZclYZE/S220/Untitled.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6209156170517866045.post-3298600404536045206</id><published>2009-01-27T21:27:00.004+08:00</published><updated>2009-01-27T21:37:58.151+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center; font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;Sneeze&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center; font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;                                                                                                         sneeze                                sneeze&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right; font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;sneeze                                    &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;sneeze&lt;/span&gt;                            sneeze                               sneeze   sneeze &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;sneeze&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;font-size:180%;" &gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center; font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;font-size:180%;" &gt;Sneeze!!!!!!!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center; font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Dammit, i can't take it no more!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;(wow, that sounded so ghetto. I'm a nigghaaaa wtf!!)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6209156170517866045-3298600404536045206?l=chroniclesofnisha.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://chroniclesofnisha.blogspot.com/feeds/3298600404536045206/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6209156170517866045&amp;postID=3298600404536045206' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6209156170517866045/posts/default/3298600404536045206'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6209156170517866045/posts/default/3298600404536045206'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://chroniclesofnisha.blogspot.com/2009/01/sneeze-sneeze-sneeze-sneeze-sneeze.html' title=''/><author><name>~ da nISha da sTArZ ~</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17993639223556156336</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_XWMuZATG_so/S5Xm28E19BI/AAAAAAAADZ4/CqjfsZclYZE/S220/Untitled.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6209156170517866045.post-1941296317825019825</id><published>2009-01-26T19:06:00.005+08:00</published><updated>2009-01-26T19:29:53.507+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Rant rant rant...</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Dammit dammit dammit! I thought i can enjoy a bit of holidays and catch up with my work, but my STOOPID immune system decided to fall sick today. I've got a pretty high fever that i'm actually shivering under my thick comforters, and there's tissue paper everywhere in my room. Garrrhhhh! So i got up about 5 mins ago to go make some boiling hot tea to bring to my room with a glass of water, and shifted my laptop to my bed so that i &lt;/span&gt;&lt;s style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;can play FB poker&lt;/s&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt; don't get bored and exert myself by doing something else. I'm going to call this my &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:trebuchet ms;" &gt;mini sick station&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Haihh. On Friday night, Jo, Jo, the gang and I went to a place call &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;font-family:trebuchet ms;" &gt;Quattro&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;. Its quite a good club la. The seats are nice but it was overcrowded i think cos of CNY. Anyway, the songs weren't that good though, they were playing a lot of kaw kaw rap songs which you can't dance to. I went to request a song from the DJ la: &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:trebuchet ms;" &gt;When i grow up&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:trebuchet ms;" &gt;Soldier Boy&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt; and &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:trebuchet ms;" &gt;Womanizer&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;. So i typed it on my hp, and showed the DJ who was very high up on the platform. He read it and nodded and showed me the thumbs up. YES!!! But the idiot boy didn't play it. Its like he read it and Thought "hmmm...these are the songs i shall NOT play". Fucker.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;And i just watched a few clips from Gossip Girl and it really reassured me that i'm not a mean person at all. Yay. After what happened on Wednesday in class, i felt like such a bitch. I mean ppl have the right to sit anywhere in class without being reprimanded right? Yea well, anywhere except &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:trebuchet ms;" &gt;MY&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt; seat *flicks hair*&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;font-family:trebuchet ms;" &gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Get it??&lt;/span&gt;!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:100%;"  &gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:100%;"  &gt;*PCD style*&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;So after watching Blair i decided that i was very angelic indeed.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;"  &gt; (go away!! let me live in my own world dammit!!)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Then again, Niru and Marcusses said i looked like Blair. Hmmm. Looks can be deceiving i guess. Cos i was deceived into thinking she was hardworking and innocent.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Hang it!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6209156170517866045-1941296317825019825?l=chroniclesofnisha.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://chroniclesofnisha.blogspot.com/feeds/1941296317825019825/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6209156170517866045&amp;postID=1941296317825019825' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6209156170517866045/posts/default/1941296317825019825'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6209156170517866045/posts/default/1941296317825019825'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://chroniclesofnisha.blogspot.com/2009/01/rant-rant-rant.html' title='Rant rant rant...'/><author><name>~ da nISha da sTArZ ~</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17993639223556156336</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_XWMuZATG_so/S5Xm28E19BI/AAAAAAAADZ4/CqjfsZclYZE/S220/Untitled.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6209156170517866045.post-2343382584211192518</id><published>2009-01-20T23:33:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2009-01-20T23:43:57.896+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center; font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Yesterday:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Ms Woo&lt;/span&gt;: Only one international student here?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Nisha:&lt;/span&gt; Well, i'm from Mars, does that count?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Suet&lt;/span&gt;: Hahaha..you're an Inter-Galaxy student..hahaha....(continues giggling).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Nisha&lt;/span&gt;:........(stares at her)...Mars is another &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;PLANET&lt;/span&gt; la not another &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;GALAXY&lt;/span&gt;!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We have so many WTF moments. Like blackmail. Shall not elaborate in respect of Barrack Obama wtf.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;font-size:130%;" &gt;Today:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This freaking LOG dared to sit in my place in classss!!! GARHHHHHH!!! felt like slapping her. She doesn't do anything or say anything, and the only sound that comes from her is either from her effin handphone which she effin can't put on silent mode, or her weird &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;"japanese-cartoon-i'm-so-super-duper-cute-and-innocent-and-this-is-my-real-voice"&lt;/span&gt; voice! SERIOUSLY, i was gonna have a bitch fit.&lt;br /&gt;Don't mess with an Indian. Don't step on her turf or on her toes; whichever hurts most.&lt;br /&gt;Wise words from Suet Ling &lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;(who thinks Mars is a galaxie. Ok la, its not that bad, just a bimbo moment. we all have it)&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6209156170517866045-2343382584211192518?l=chroniclesofnisha.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://chroniclesofnisha.blogspot.com/feeds/2343382584211192518/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6209156170517866045&amp;postID=2343382584211192518' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6209156170517866045/posts/default/2343382584211192518'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6209156170517866045/posts/default/2343382584211192518'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://chroniclesofnisha.blogspot.com/2009/01/yesterday-ms-woo-only-one-international.html' title=''/><author><name>~ da nISha da sTArZ ~</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17993639223556156336</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_XWMuZATG_so/S5Xm28E19BI/AAAAAAAADZ4/CqjfsZclYZE/S220/Untitled.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6209156170517866045.post-7551304479064403352</id><published>2009-01-18T21:36:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2009-01-18T21:45:29.992+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Burnt Out</title><content type='html'>I think its time to give my shopping a hold. I've actually gotten quite sick of hopping for clothes. I never thought that was possible. Me, sick of shopping? pfft. I've got new clothes, new clubbing AND casual clothes, formal clothes for interning (only skirts and pants) and a few dressy tops. I think i spent over RM 600 in the span of 1 month on just clothes. You should see how much my &lt;s&gt;pet monkey&lt;/s&gt; brother spent (hint: much more).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today my dad was bringing out all his Whiskey collection to admire them. Cos he got a realllly expensive whiskey as a gift from someone today. It was bottled the year i was born. So when i was thirsty i said:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Nisha&lt;/span&gt;: Dad, can i drink a bottle of Whiskey?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Dad&lt;/span&gt;: Very funny. Why?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Me&lt;/span&gt;: Cos there's so much whiskey in the house!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Dad&lt;/span&gt;: There's so much furniture in the house too but i don't see you eating it?! *cricket cricket*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thats my dad for you lah. He doesn't know i can finish all of it in 1 drinking partay. Muahahahahaa. Yes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Okay. toodles.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6209156170517866045-7551304479064403352?l=chroniclesofnisha.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://chroniclesofnisha.blogspot.com/feeds/7551304479064403352/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6209156170517866045&amp;postID=7551304479064403352' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6209156170517866045/posts/default/7551304479064403352'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6209156170517866045/posts/default/7551304479064403352'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://chroniclesofnisha.blogspot.com/2009/01/burnt-out.html' title='Burnt Out'/><author><name>~ da nISha da sTArZ ~</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17993639223556156336</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_XWMuZATG_so/S5Xm28E19BI/AAAAAAAADZ4/CqjfsZclYZE/S220/Untitled.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6209156170517866045.post-3572893967715184330</id><published>2009-01-17T23:40:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2009-01-18T00:08:36.026+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Its all about a little flexibility.</title><content type='html'>THis post, is a very sensible rant. Read it if you're Chinese and you're in my Psychology class.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm gonna be so sick of class next week and the chinese new year week. You know, its really unfair that some of us have been imposed on to have 5 hours class straight on a Friday which has been made compulsory cos of a stupid fucking quiz. Come on, guys, Chinese new year holidays are 2 days! Can't you guys just like negotiate with the teacher so that she teaches something light on wednesday and thursday so u don't miss much anyways? You won't die if u miss one or two days class ya know. Trust me, i've done it. Its really unfair. I'm gonna see the HOD about this on monday. See what i can negotiate with him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I only get 1 day off for deepavali celeberations which actually lasts for a week, and last year i had to miss a day of class on top of that. You don't see me complainig or trying to impose my troubles on all of you? So what if i'm minority? That is just racism then! I just don't get why everyone can't just be more flexible. I'm sick of being overlooked and second best, seriously. What if you were in my position? Only 1 chinese among all indians and CNY holidays were only 2 days but Deepavali holidays are 4 days? I bet you won't be sitting in that class for very much longer.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Seriously. Its ticking me off. My dad's prepared to make trouble.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And so am i.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6209156170517866045-3572893967715184330?l=chroniclesofnisha.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://chroniclesofnisha.blogspot.com/feeds/3572893967715184330/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6209156170517866045&amp;postID=3572893967715184330' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6209156170517866045/posts/default/3572893967715184330'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6209156170517866045/posts/default/3572893967715184330'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://chroniclesofnisha.blogspot.com/2009/01/its-all-about-little-flexibility.html' title='Its all about a little flexibility.'/><author><name>~ da nISha da sTArZ ~</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17993639223556156336</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_XWMuZATG_so/S5Xm28E19BI/AAAAAAAADZ4/CqjfsZclYZE/S220/Untitled.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6209156170517866045.post-5565245084481816971</id><published>2009-01-11T17:37:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2009-01-11T17:40:02.331+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Bye bye fun, hello workload.</title><content type='html'>All good things have to come to an end. Why?&lt;br /&gt;Why do the bad things get to stay forever? Its really not fair. I must admit though, I had one blast of a holiday. Ive been soo occupied that I really didn’t realize I had to go to college tomorrow. I almost made plans to stay over in Neera’s today. Untill &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;SHE&lt;/span&gt; reminded &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;ME&lt;/span&gt; that &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;I&lt;/span&gt; had college. Role reversal wtf.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The past week has been especially great though. What with Jo finishing her exams and us clubbing the night away to celebrate her freedom, to bar hopping with Yong Long and a quite drunk Suets *winx*, to an eventful game of Futsal yesterday with my brother, Sutha and Neera and her brothers.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was the first time I was actually bringing my bro to meet MY friends and he actually enjoyed the game of futsal! I felt very intimidated at first cos there were so many big tough pro guys yesterday. We actually ended up from too little players to too many players that we had to form 3 teams. The guys were damn good at it. They will kick the ball so hard that I was sooo bloody scared to catch it when I was the goal keeper. Neera was like “OI! That’s a GIRL keeper over there la, RELAX ok??”. Haha. And once I swear I heard someone asking me to knock my brother down and get the ball cos after all, he was only my brother. WTF?? We both ended up with injuries and Sutha was ever so kind to send us back even though it was jammed. We owe him one.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today we had a family portrait taken in a photo studio since my bro is back. The guy took this nice one where I had to lean my back and pose ever so cool-ly but my mum just HAD to blink in that photo. Garrrh. Then we stuffed our faces with Banana Leaf rice. Yummy. Now I’m going out to the tarik with Jo and Neera. Awww. Both Neera and my bro are going back on the same day. I feel like crying. Ok im dramafying a bit la. But I’ll seriously miss them la.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh and how can I forget to blog about our outing in The Curve? Just me, Yong Long, Suets and Suet Ling’s date for the night named Alcohol. Uh huh. We went to Fridays, Laundry, Scarlet and Sactuary. I think those are all the places in the Curve. I ordered at least one drink in each place la. But suets was a goner after 1 huge-ass margarita, 2 shots, and 2 pacific Island Teas which are pretty strong by my standards even. Haha she was hilarious, man.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oops, have to go, friend’s waiting for me. Yong Long, I want the pictures!!! What are u waiting for??&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6209156170517866045-5565245084481816971?l=chroniclesofnisha.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://chroniclesofnisha.blogspot.com/feeds/5565245084481816971/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6209156170517866045&amp;postID=5565245084481816971' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6209156170517866045/posts/default/5565245084481816971'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6209156170517866045/posts/default/5565245084481816971'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://chroniclesofnisha.blogspot.com/2009/01/bye-bye-fun-hello-workload.html' title='Bye bye fun, hello workload.'/><author><name>~ da nISha da sTArZ ~</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17993639223556156336</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_XWMuZATG_so/S5Xm28E19BI/AAAAAAAADZ4/CqjfsZclYZE/S220/Untitled.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6209156170517866045.post-5483094588576444274</id><published>2008-12-28T19:34:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2008-12-28T19:38:10.618+08:00</updated><title type='text'>OHH YEAHHH!!!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.letsgodigital.org/images/artikelen/13/sony_ericsson_w910_zoom.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 359px; height: 359px;" src="http://www.letsgodigital.org/images/artikelen/13/sony_ericsson_w910_zoom.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My actual phone is actually a little redder than the picture though. But I love it. Muaxx.&lt;br /&gt;Although i miss my previous one.. sob.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6209156170517866045-5483094588576444274?l=chroniclesofnisha.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://chroniclesofnisha.blogspot.com/feeds/5483094588576444274/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6209156170517866045&amp;postID=5483094588576444274' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6209156170517866045/posts/default/5483094588576444274'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6209156170517866045/posts/default/5483094588576444274'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://chroniclesofnisha.blogspot.com/2008/12/ohh-yeahhh.html' title='OHH YEAHHH!!!'/><author><name>~ da nISha da sTArZ ~</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17993639223556156336</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_XWMuZATG_so/S5Xm28E19BI/AAAAAAAADZ4/CqjfsZclYZE/S220/Untitled.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6209156170517866045.post-6668615727662793204</id><published>2008-12-27T18:39:00.006+08:00</published><updated>2008-12-28T00:39:18.275+08:00</updated><title type='text'>I have no idea what to call this post.</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_XWMuZATG_so/SVZXvEus3cI/AAAAAAAACvk/DYHW2t4efNI/s1600-h/PICT0398.JPG"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm back from Penang and i have so so so much to blog about!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;First my Grandfather's bday&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It went smoothly and the tables looked so pwetty. I did the deco for the table. Not much but simple enough. I got the candles and stuff from Ikea. Even the sprinkled potpourri.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_XWMuZATG_so/SVYjxd7whbI/AAAAAAAACuU/-KYLMtu9vI4/s1600-h/PICT0248.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 248px; height: 186px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_XWMuZATG_so/SVYjxd7whbI/AAAAAAAACuU/-KYLMtu9vI4/s320/PICT0248.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5284450545521690034" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_XWMuZATG_so/SVYjxkfKDTI/AAAAAAAACuc/AqeKymafBsI/s1600-h/PICT0249.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_XWMuZATG_so/SVYjxkfKDTI/AAAAAAAACuc/AqeKymafBsI/s320/PICT0249.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5284450547280776498" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then 2 days later, we gave a ride to my aunt's partner who came down from Aussie (but is actually Irish) back to the airport cos he was going back earlier than my aunt. Thats him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_XWMuZATG_so/SVYjx9oMICI/AAAAAAAACuk/M28klhZnCrY/s1600-h/PICT0267.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 232px; height: 174px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_XWMuZATG_so/SVYjx9oMICI/AAAAAAAACuk/M28klhZnCrY/s320/PICT0267.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5284450554029547554" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;He's quite funny la. Always cracking us up. wakaka. So at the airport, we went to a cafe for a drink at which i saw 2 sunway college people and can never face them again cos of how moronic me and my brother behave in public. Ok not THAT moronic. Just a little la. Cheh. I'm such a drama queen sometimes. Don't take me too seriously unless i tell u to wtf. So then my mother was discussing the Airport security and almost - ALMOST - said the "B" word. No, not "bastard" u crackhead, its "Bomb". Yes. The four letter word in the Airport is "bomb". Say it, and u risk creating panic and getting arrested for being a threat to National Security. TAKE ME SERIOUSLY THIS TIME. Don't go saying the word in the airport loosely. Even as a joke. The worst posible thing u can say in the airport is "which bag is the bomb in? Hand luggage or the one u just checked in?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thank God my bro stopped her in time. Sheesh, my mum sometimes. After they sent Simon off, we WERE supposed to go back, but we all got so hooligan-ly after seeing a 3D plan of the KLIA and my aunt started taking pictures of it and the little exhibition center at the back of the airport. Then me and my bro spotted a pole. WOO HOO!! Pole dancing. We started fooling around there la. And outta boredom i asked my bro to take a picture of me on the pole. Yea, he purposely took it when i wasn't looking.&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_XWMuZATG_so/SVYjyOHGT9I/AAAAAAAACus/FDzNUYvvNiM/s1600-h/PICT0277.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 242px; height: 181px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_XWMuZATG_so/SVYjyOHGT9I/AAAAAAAACus/FDzNUYvvNiM/s320/PICT0277.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5284450558454157266" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; WTF SERIOUSLY. People were staring so hard they refused to look away when we stared back. Garrrhh. So what if i have a weird family? I still love them okay?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;So yeah. The next day we were off to Penang. Had a good time there basically. First day we just chilled and went to a Korean BBQ to eat all their Kimchi. Like 10 different types. Then the next day we took a Ferry Trip to the Island and ronda ronda-ed there. At night we ate seafood with my brother, the eating machine. He seriously is. Everything - and i'm not kidding - everything can go in his mouth in one go. He doesn't take a bite. Just "now u see it, now u dont". Thats how he ate up all my mandarine oranges. grawwww.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;The next day, we went to the Penang War Museum at Batu Maung which is on the Island. Omg, it was soo soo great! I never like Museums cos they are boring. But this time i bugged my family to go cos it looked interesting and it didn't dissapoint. The place had secret underground escape routes everywhere, and loads of places to store ammunition.&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_XWMuZATG_so/SVYrnOyFibI/AAAAAAAACvc/iRhbxZMpO48/s1600-h/PICT0389.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_XWMuZATG_so/SVYrnOyFibI/AAAAAAAACvc/iRhbxZMpO48/s320/PICT0389.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5284459165748922802" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Where we're standing is where the soldiers&lt;br /&gt;used to aim and shoot down attacking ships&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_XWMuZATG_so/SVYrmoAXKhI/AAAAAAAACvU/0xXarNk6T7E/s1600-h/PICT0377.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_XWMuZATG_so/SVYrmoAXKhI/AAAAAAAACvU/0xXarNk6T7E/s320/PICT0377.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5284459155339815442" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;This area was where they used to store ammunition. there was a room nearby here which was guarded by barbed wire and red cloth. I think it was haunted or "dirty". I didn't dare take a photo of it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_XWMuZATG_so/SVYrmHjOCuI/AAAAAAAACvM/ry_4xtVEog0/s1600-h/PICT0369.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_XWMuZATG_so/SVYrmHjOCuI/AAAAAAAACvM/ry_4xtVEog0/s320/PICT0369.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5284459146627648226" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;This is one escape route which will land you half way&lt;br /&gt;accross the camp. Doesn't it make u think of Japanese horror movies? If i had&lt;br /&gt;a torch and someone to go with me, i would have travelled this route. There was&lt;br /&gt;a sign saying 'Be friendly to Bats'. WTF???&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_XWMuZATG_so/SVYrllLMTxI/AAAAAAAACvE/uL9zkiTThyE/s1600-h/PICT0402.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_XWMuZATG_so/SVYrllLMTxI/AAAAAAAACvE/uL9zkiTThyE/s320/PICT0402.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5284459137400065810" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;The gun to shoot planes. There must be a name for it&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_XWMuZATG_so/SVYrlep_igI/AAAAAAAACu8/sm2mlBpe0pI/s1600-h/PICT0403.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_XWMuZATG_so/SVYrlep_igI/AAAAAAAACu8/sm2mlBpe0pI/s320/PICT0403.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5284459135650204162" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;After i posed for this shot, we heard a loud BOOM.&lt;br /&gt;Haha. My bro was like "Nisha, why did u shoot down that plane?!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_XWMuZATG_so/SVZXvXEItVI/AAAAAAAACvs/vxFeueIbvqY/s1600-h/PICT0405.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_XWMuZATG_so/SVZXvXEItVI/AAAAAAAACvs/vxFeueIbvqY/s320/PICT0405.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5284507683922687314" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Thats where General Yamashita was hanged. This wasn't in the route we suppose to take. Me bro and dad just wondered off into the forest and found ourselves this area la. Then we got lost. I was so totally scared cos i started thinking of the Blair Witch Project. Grrrrr.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;That was a good adventure for the week. I must go back there and explore the escape routes though. They;re very cool. So anyway. I'm back from Penang today, my bros bday today. Got a lot to do in the next two weeks!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;Happy New Year&lt;br /&gt;Everyone!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6209156170517866045-6668615727662793204?l=chroniclesofnisha.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://chroniclesofnisha.blogspot.com/feeds/6668615727662793204/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6209156170517866045&amp;postID=6668615727662793204' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6209156170517866045/posts/default/6668615727662793204'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6209156170517866045/posts/default/6668615727662793204'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://chroniclesofnisha.blogspot.com/2008/12/i-have-no-idea-what-to-call-this-post.html' title='I have no idea what to call this post.'/><author><name>~ da nISha da sTArZ ~</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17993639223556156336</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_XWMuZATG_so/S5Xm28E19BI/AAAAAAAADZ4/CqjfsZclYZE/S220/Untitled.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_XWMuZATG_so/SVYjxd7whbI/AAAAAAAACuU/-KYLMtu9vI4/s72-c/PICT0248.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6209156170517866045.post-4639582256367023194</id><published>2008-12-27T18:25:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2008-12-27T18:27:05.230+08:00</updated><title type='text'>To my dear Psychology classmates</title><content type='html'>Didn't u guys have an Xmas partay?? Where are the pictures dammit!!!! Photos photos photos!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ahem.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;~love, Nisha&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;wtf seriously&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6209156170517866045-4639582256367023194?l=chroniclesofnisha.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://chroniclesofnisha.blogspot.com/feeds/4639582256367023194/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6209156170517866045&amp;postID=4639582256367023194' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6209156170517866045/posts/default/4639582256367023194'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6209156170517866045/posts/default/4639582256367023194'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://chroniclesofnisha.blogspot.com/2008/12/to-my-dear-psychology-classmates.html' title='To my dear Psychology classmates'/><author><name>~ da nISha da sTArZ ~</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17993639223556156336</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_XWMuZATG_so/S5Xm28E19BI/AAAAAAAADZ4/CqjfsZclYZE/S220/Untitled.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6209156170517866045.post-5893124504337937865</id><published>2008-12-20T10:36:00.006+08:00</published><updated>2008-12-20T11:43:05.579+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Of Bacardi Razz and Ikea candles...Seriously gotta come up with better titles wtf.</title><content type='html'>This has gotta be one of the most busiest holidays i've ever had. Family family family. Its nice to have a big family. So much havoc, so much spontaneity so much fun!! This Sunday is my Grandfather's 90th birthday cekeberation woo hoo!! Its a small dinner party with all his friends in the Legend Hotel la since his son, my Uncle, is the director there. So guess what i'm in charge of?? *drum roll*......DECORATIONS!! Weeeee! I'm gonna put candles on the tables, really pretty ones that i got from Ikea, and then gonna ask my brother to stop talking and blow gold, pearl white and red baloons to hang up and give the party atmosphere. I hope my Granddad feels special tmr. We worked so hard so he would. Dang it, still dunno what to wear.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Latest update on my cat who normally lives outside: She's got a new home! My study chair!&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_XWMuZATG_so/SUxdbcUnMTI/AAAAAAAACss/0prUix56FIA/s1600-h/PICT0217.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 297px; height: 222px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_XWMuZATG_so/SUxdbcUnMTI/AAAAAAAACss/0prUix56FIA/s400/PICT0217.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5281699189039247666" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;Awwww, isn't she just adorable?? Thats &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Tessa.&lt;/span&gt; Every night since the rainy season, she will come in and sleep on my bed, then i will scold her and put her on my chair. So now the chair is her territory la. She prolly thinks she's helluva great, but i don't care. Then i must leave my bathroom door open with some water in the pail on the floor so she can drink when she gets dehydrated. So manja, i tell u.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;Three nights ago i went out with Lynette, Marcus and Yvonne and THIS is the only picture i take:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_XWMuZATG_so/SUxda4uiOCI/AAAAAAAACsk/s9V5OfazVjo/s1600-h/PICT0218.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 290px; height: 217px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_XWMuZATG_so/SUxda4uiOCI/AAAAAAAACsk/s9V5OfazVjo/s400/PICT0218.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5281699179484297250" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;Me and Nette trying on shoes that ACTUALLY come in our size! I shall not reveal the size here. ahem. Anyways, then we went to the Apartment to eat and then went to Cine Leisure to watch The Day The Earth Stood Still.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt; &lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.impawards.com/2008/posters/day_the_earth_stood_still.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 324px; height: 478px;" src="http://www.impawards.com/2008/posters/day_the_earth_stood_still.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;OMG! Keanu Reaves is SOOOOO CUUUTTTEEE!! I've never watched any of his shows before. Haihh.. THe movie was so awesome, man. The effects and all. It wasn't one of those sterotypical alien movies, and there wasn't any secondary love story behind it which made it all more refreshing and less B-grade to watch. I just googled it seconds ago, it seems to be a remake of an older lamer version of the movie. Aaaannnnyyywaaayyss, moral of the storie: Watch this movie. Its worth your money.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then, the next night, met up with Dinesh, Shah, Kenneth, and the Nottingham gang, as well and Veena and the girls to go clubbing in Celona. We went before 10 so we got a freeee bottle of Bacardi Razz (raspberry) which was so yummy especially when u mix it with orange juice. Mmmmmm. The guys opened one bottle of Whisky and most of them got high on it. I was going back early so i didn't get high at all la. Have to drive wert. All in all it was a great night especially meeting Kenneth from Ausmat last time. Haha. That bitch didn't add me on facebook.&lt;br /&gt;Racist wtf.&lt;br /&gt;But thanks to a group of karat pariah indians, we had to leave the club early to avoid a tiff or anything bigger than that. Freakayy shitt. These indians will pick a fight over an accidental sneeze in their direction, i tell u. They actually surrounded us after that. 2 people behind us, 2 ppl at the side of us, and the rest trying to settle with our guys in front of us. WAT THE FARRRKK?? I was so scared these ppl got parangs or wat Which reminds me, one of the Bouncers in Celona was actually the Red Indian man who made us sing and dance in the Sunway Challenge. Haha! So funny. He smiled at me la, but that time i was still trying to think why he's so familiar so i didn't smile back.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So back to the topic, the reason i blogged about clubbing is cos i wore the top i bought off &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Ee Lin&lt;/span&gt; and used my belt which &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Suet&lt;/span&gt; taught me how to wear. Proud of me momma?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_XWMuZATG_so/SUxjaTKOOFI/AAAAAAAACs0/yggOWpYZSRM/s1600-h/PICT0233.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 316px; height: 237px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_XWMuZATG_so/SUxjaTKOOFI/AAAAAAAACs0/yggOWpYZSRM/s400/PICT0233.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5281705766469646418" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Thats one of a clearer pictures of my belt. The rest is on Facebook. Oooh! I love that belt! I bought another white one for 25 bucks yesterday and i lurved it! Which reminds me, i went shopping yesterday! Bought the belt, two tank tops or RM16 altogether, and 3 pairs of earrings for RM10. I actually wanted to buy 1 pair but the girl said must buy 3 pairs, cos i hv to pay RM 10 for one pair anyway. OBVIOUSLY they were desperate to get rid of ther earrings dunno why.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3 days in a row I was out so late, i feel so tired now. Oh, i've bought some books to read durig my hols. I finished one already, it was called &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;The Woman In the Fifth, by Douglas Kennedy&lt;/span&gt; the guy who wrote The Pursuit of Happiness.&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.stuff.co.nz/images/302401.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 214px; height: 330px;" src="http://www.stuff.co.nz/images/302401.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;This one is an American writer. The next book i've started on is &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;The Winter Rose&lt;/span&gt; which is by an English Writer and is super super thick and has a boring Intro. But i can tell its gonna be good. I like the style of writing as well. More classy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.fantasticfiction.co.uk/images/n30/n150842.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 187px; height: 284px;" src="http://www.fantasticfiction.co.uk/images/n30/n150842.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;I guess thats all for my update for the past week and a half. Tomorrow is gonna be a busy day and all for me and my family. I better assign tasks to each of my family members so that it goes smoothly. Cheh, producer-nya.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Signing off, toodles!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6209156170517866045-5893124504337937865?l=chroniclesofnisha.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://chroniclesofnisha.blogspot.com/feeds/5893124504337937865/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6209156170517866045&amp;postID=5893124504337937865' title='8 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6209156170517866045/posts/default/5893124504337937865'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6209156170517866045/posts/default/5893124504337937865'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://chroniclesofnisha.blogspot.com/2008/12/of-bacardi-razz-and-ikea.html' title='Of Bacardi Razz and Ikea candles...Seriously gotta come up with better titles wtf.'/><author><name>~ da nISha da sTArZ ~</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17993639223556156336</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_XWMuZATG_so/S5Xm28E19BI/AAAAAAAADZ4/CqjfsZclYZE/S220/Untitled.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_XWMuZATG_so/SUxdbcUnMTI/AAAAAAAACss/0prUix56FIA/s72-c/PICT0217.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>8</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6209156170517866045.post-3991216137781023091</id><published>2008-12-14T11:17:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2008-12-14T11:45:53.328+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Friends  or family? Tough decision.</title><content type='html'>Crap i have so many things to do this holidays. I don't think i got time for anything else. Oh mannnnn...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Stupid sony ericsson bastards have been holding my phone for almost a month now. I miiiisssss it! It was my bday present and i actually celebrated my bday without it. I'm sorry bubblez!!!!!!!    (thats th name for my phone).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I hate being so insignificant now that our house is full. Grrrrraarrrr. Annoying brother annoys the hell outta me sometimes. But he's become so nice also. Recently he made a drink for me withouth making a fuss, he even put out my washed clothes and he also bought a snack for the both of us when he came back from an outing with his friends. *altho i preferred it in chocolate*. But still. i'm noticing how fast food finishes these few days and then he complains 'eew, i'm gonna gain weight, i think i should run an extra km everyday'. Or he can just stop eating rite? Some people are soo complicated.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was soooo effin bored two days ago i seriously didn't know what to do. I played Sims for like 3 hours, then read my book for another hour, then i was so bored i called or text jo, i cant remember. Then she said she wasn't free so i painted my finger nails. Then i was still bored so i was gonna start on my toe nails. Then i started singing karoeke by myself with the software i downloaded. Bring Me To Life. Too bad Yong Long wasn't here to sing the guys part. I know i said i got so many things to do, but i really do have many things to do, just no mood to actually start DOING it. I got so bored that i actually started applying layers and layers of lip gloss till i looked like &lt;s&gt;Joy&lt;/s&gt; a goldfish and then wiped it off cos i thought it was ugly. Then i started talking to Spongebob on my bed &lt;s&gt;no i'm not schizophrenic&lt;/s&gt; wtf. I wannna pppppaaaarrrrtttaaayyyyyyyy!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Don't think i'll be celebrating proper christmas this year. Gonna be in Penang with family. It'll be havoc, for sure, but i'd still like to celebrate christmas. Haihz. I can always stay back and bring the house down with my frens. So i have a choice to make, friends? or family?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6209156170517866045-3991216137781023091?l=chroniclesofnisha.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://chroniclesofnisha.blogspot.com/feeds/3991216137781023091/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6209156170517866045&amp;postID=3991216137781023091' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6209156170517866045/posts/default/3991216137781023091'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6209156170517866045/posts/default/3991216137781023091'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://chroniclesofnisha.blogspot.com/2008/12/friends-or-family-tough-decision.html' title='Friends  or family? Tough decision.'/><author><name>~ da nISha da sTArZ ~</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17993639223556156336</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_XWMuZATG_so/S5Xm28E19BI/AAAAAAAADZ4/CqjfsZclYZE/S220/Untitled.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6209156170517866045.post-7567504556505307088</id><published>2008-12-12T16:51:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2008-12-12T16:55:03.609+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>My car was ransacked YET AGAIN DAMMIT!!!! WHY WHY WHY??? This time i KNOW i locked the car. The last time i wasn't so sure. This time i didn't lose anything cos there was nothing much to lose except the radio and CD's. The last time someone took my shades and thats it. I mean what the flosberry fuck? How did they get in? I'm so stumped, man. Then they left my car in a &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;total&lt;/span&gt; mess. They even looked in my ashtray for stuff, morons. Like i'm going to keep a 10 000 dolar diamond ring in there or something. How how how???&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6209156170517866045-7567504556505307088?l=chroniclesofnisha.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://chroniclesofnisha.blogspot.com/feeds/7567504556505307088/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6209156170517866045&amp;postID=7567504556505307088' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6209156170517866045/posts/default/7567504556505307088'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6209156170517866045/posts/default/7567504556505307088'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://chroniclesofnisha.blogspot.com/2008/12/my-car-was-ransacked-yet-again-dammit.html' title=''/><author><name>~ da nISha da sTArZ ~</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17993639223556156336</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_XWMuZATG_so/S5Xm28E19BI/AAAAAAAADZ4/CqjfsZclYZE/S220/Untitled.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6209156170517866045.post-197272955583430237</id><published>2008-12-11T23:36:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2008-12-12T00:01:45.617+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Good day!</title><content type='html'>I had a great birthday yesterday. Well it wasn't one of the best but still. My dear classmates gave me a surprise cake on tuesday after exams. Thanks guys (and gals). Yesterday also my mum and aunt and bro tried to surprise me with a cake that they sneaked into Old Town White Coffee. Except it didn't really work. Lets just say my mum has a bad poker face. But i played along anyway. Let them have their fun. And people at the Old Town White Coffee are serously dim witted. They supposed to bring the cake to the table, which we assumed they'd do with the cake OUT of the box and candle litted, but instead they just brought the cake in a box. Wtf????&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In the afternoon my bradder layan me cos i was regressing and stamping my feet like a child cos i wanted to watch a movie but my mum and my fun aunt had to take my grandma out for a dental appointment. So my bradder layan and said he will go with me la. We went and watched Madagascar 2 even though he hadn't watched the first one yet. Holy poker trolley, it was sooo farneee!! Especially the King Julian which is voiced by Sacha Baron Cohen. He was the best, i tell u.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As for prezzies, i got some pretty practical presents this year. I got a keychained watch from aunt, a candle from my cousing Mita, and a candle holder from my mum. I didn't ask for any prezzie like i normally, demandingly do cos i got a car this year and thats like 500 bday presents put together. Not sure i can live long enough to make it up wtf.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And then my mum layan me also by letting me buy lots of Famous Amos cookies and sweets!! Yummy!! But i forgot my brother was home. All the food seems to finish faster when he's here. But i still got to eat a lot o cookies. Yumm yumm.&lt;br /&gt;Another highlight was Neera calling all the way from London to make sure she woke me up damn early on my birthday. Grrrrrr, but thanks girl!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Okay gtg now. My this house is such a havoc now, people shouting my name every 10 mnutes for something or other. Haih. But i love itttt.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;XOXOXO wtf&lt;br /&gt;toodles.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6209156170517866045-197272955583430237?l=chroniclesofnisha.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://chroniclesofnisha.blogspot.com/feeds/197272955583430237/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6209156170517866045&amp;postID=197272955583430237' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6209156170517866045/posts/default/197272955583430237'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6209156170517866045/posts/default/197272955583430237'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://chroniclesofnisha.blogspot.com/2008/12/good-day.html' title='Good day!'/><author><name>~ da nISha da sTArZ ~</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17993639223556156336</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_XWMuZATG_so/S5Xm28E19BI/AAAAAAAADZ4/CqjfsZclYZE/S220/Untitled.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6209156170517866045.post-4761769067864585192</id><published>2008-12-08T13:35:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2008-12-08T13:37:19.776+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Wat the HELLL?? I was just playing Sims 2 for a break from my studying and suddenly, the 'Guest' of my Sim just went and STOLE my garden gnome!! I SAW HER!!! Dammit, i couldn't do anything about it either. Garrrrr. I'm gonna try and burn her alive. MUAHAHAHA. Yes, i;ve got issues. So what&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6209156170517866045-4761769067864585192?l=chroniclesofnisha.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://chroniclesofnisha.blogspot.com/feeds/4761769067864585192/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6209156170517866045&amp;postID=4761769067864585192' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6209156170517866045/posts/default/4761769067864585192'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6209156170517866045/posts/default/4761769067864585192'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://chroniclesofnisha.blogspot.com/2008/12/wat-helll-i-was-just-playing-sims-2-for.html' title=''/><author><name>~ da nISha da sTArZ ~</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17993639223556156336</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_XWMuZATG_so/S5Xm28E19BI/AAAAAAAADZ4/CqjfsZclYZE/S220/Untitled.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6209156170517866045.post-8591931149343331384</id><published>2008-12-06T22:53:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2008-12-06T22:55:07.315+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Full house for Christmas!</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Aunt has come from Aussie, bro coming soon form Aussie too. There’s gonna be 5, 6, or even 7 people in the house!! WOOOOOOOO!!!! Our house is gonna be happening all over again with da havoc of spunky relatives! Of course, this means less privacy especially with my aunt and bro staying full time. Buuuuuttttt, I’m willing to compromise. A little of this, a little of that. Life is all about balance. Or is it? Cos I seem to fall down a lot more than others wtf. Literally.&lt;/p&gt;Aaaaaaaannyways. Just one more to go then we can go wild wild wild! Oh my Neera and Jo and Marcus and gang. Can’t wait! And my plans to revamp my room, take my cousins out, catch up with frens (and making new ones) and not to mention getting drunk. Waatt da…So much to do, so little time. If only we had a 3 month holiday. Oh God in heaven, or Santa Claus, whichever, please please please make the college burn down and take 3 months to rebuild! With no casualties tho. I’ve been good all year, I promise, and I’ve never asked for a Christmas present in my life! I really think you kinda owe me this.     &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;So what if I’m not Christian and don’t celebrate Christmas? I still should get a present right? Everyone should. Otherwise, Santa would be discriminating. And this would make all the children cry .Which is healthy once in a while especially for bratty children, but NOT during Christmas. And I KNOW Santa does not discriminate cos there is not one single movie where they show him stumbling across an Indian Hindu and say ‘Sorry kid, you’re hindu, go light some oil lamps’. Have you? &lt;st1:place st="on"&gt;Cos&lt;/st1:place&gt; sure as hell I haven’t.&lt;/p&gt;        &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 0.5in;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;“I don’t want a lot for Christmas&lt;br /&gt;There is just one thing I need,&lt;br /&gt;I don’t care about the presents underneath the Christmas Tree” &lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;                                                                                                                    ~ Mariah Carey&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;      &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;That’s right. I only care about the presents NOT underneath the Christmas Tree. Like a 3 month holiday or Prince Charming. Any one. If you need help, Santa, there is this cute guy in the library who’ll probably be willing to blow anything up for you. He’s Pakistani.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Keep the Yule tide gay and all your troubles far far away,&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Happy Christmas everyone!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6209156170517866045-8591931149343331384?l=chroniclesofnisha.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://chroniclesofnisha.blogspot.com/feeds/8591931149343331384/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6209156170517866045&amp;postID=8591931149343331384' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6209156170517866045/posts/default/8591931149343331384'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6209156170517866045/posts/default/8591931149343331384'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://chroniclesofnisha.blogspot.com/2008/12/full-house-for-christmas.html' title='Full house for Christmas!'/><author><name>~ da nISha da sTArZ ~</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17993639223556156336</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_XWMuZATG_so/S5Xm28E19BI/AAAAAAAADZ4/CqjfsZclYZE/S220/Untitled.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6209156170517866045.post-912447029410333432</id><published>2008-11-30T20:19:00.006+08:00</published><updated>2008-11-30T21:38:28.785+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Give me a break. I can't be studying for 5 hours straight.</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;A few things i felt like i needed to update on.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;1. For some reason, ppl are starting to call me Nishi. No idea why.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;2. I was watching bowling for Columbine that day, and i realized how down-to-earth Marilyn Manson was.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt; &lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_XWMuZATG_so/STKXBxA-vAI/AAAAAAAACr0/gdnPqHbhpjE/s1600-h/marilyn-manson-400a052307.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 216px; height: 216px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_XWMuZATG_so/STKXBxA-vAI/AAAAAAAACr0/gdnPqHbhpjE/s400/marilyn-manson-400a052307.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5274444170197384194" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;Cos everyone was blaming him and his music for somehow causing the 2 guys in the Columbine school to go on a shooting rampage and turn the guns on themselves. But when the director intervewed him, he gave a pretty sensible speech, and when the director asked him "if the kids from Columbine high school who saw the tragedy was here today, what would u say to them?' he replied "i wouldn't say anything, i would listen to what they have to say, which is what no one did". Well done!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;3. I got a sudden fascination for the band Evanessence especially for their Bring Me To Life video. Awesome!!! And the guy in the video is so hawt and macho. Wooooooo Paul McCoy!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt; &lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_XWMuZATG_so/STKGqRAiHoI/AAAAAAAACrM/UGPkEk2Nrig/s1600-h/img_4413.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 163px; height: 218px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_XWMuZATG_so/STKGqRAiHoI/AAAAAAAACrM/UGPkEk2Nrig/s400/img_4413.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5274426174282538626" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;appealing than pop singers at times. Firstly, its so refreshing to see a non-skinny female artist, and then there;s the fact that her videos are not the stereotypicalOk la. Not that cute, just very macho. But still cute. I dunno why but i think Amy Lee can be more appealing than other pop singers. First its refreshing to see a non-skinny artist in the industry, secondly, her videos are different; not the 'flaunt and look prettay' kind.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_XWMuZATG_so/STKGqfwiGUI/AAAAAAAACrE/lWGeSNDsiag/s1600-h/Amy_Lee_267315.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 194px; height: 206px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_XWMuZATG_so/STKGqfwiGUI/AAAAAAAACrE/lWGeSNDsiag/s400/Amy_Lee_267315.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5274426178241960258" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Its totally different. And interesting. This one is quite an old hit.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object height="344" width="425"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/_TILCIRspO0&amp;amp;hl=en&amp;amp;fs=1&amp;amp;color1=0x234900&amp;amp;color2=0x4e9e00"&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/_TILCIRspO0&amp;amp;hl=en&amp;amp;fs=1&amp;amp;color1=0x234900&amp;amp;color2=0x4e9e00" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" height="344" width="425"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6209156170517866045-912447029410333432?l=chroniclesofnisha.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://chroniclesofnisha.blogspot.com/feeds/912447029410333432/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6209156170517866045&amp;postID=912447029410333432' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6209156170517866045/posts/default/912447029410333432'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6209156170517866045/posts/default/912447029410333432'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://chroniclesofnisha.blogspot.com/2008/11/give-me-break-i-cant-be-studying-for-5.html' title='Give me a break. I can&apos;t be studying for 5 hours straight.'/><author><name>~ da nISha da sTArZ ~</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17993639223556156336</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_XWMuZATG_so/S5Xm28E19BI/AAAAAAAADZ4/CqjfsZclYZE/S220/Untitled.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_XWMuZATG_so/STKXBxA-vAI/AAAAAAAACr0/gdnPqHbhpjE/s72-c/marilyn-manson-400a052307.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6209156170517866045.post-3284476104268621667</id><published>2008-11-29T12:58:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2008-11-29T13:45:08.891+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Chronicles of an eventful day.</title><content type='html'>Ok, i'm running out of title ideas. As you've noticed above.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yesterday was an awesome day. Not to mention super tiring. It was Sun's bday! HAPPY BIRTHDAY SUN! We went to TGIF's and ordered three super big meals to share among 6 of us la. Dessert was good. But the best part was when the friday's ppl started doing their thang. Sun had to blow 3 candles from a distance of 100metres (plus minus 70 meters wtf). And she managed too! Honestly i doubted she'd be able to do it for a second. Can't blame me, you're so small, Sun!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So after the bday cake and trying to smash her face in it, we all had to face reality and go back and study. ARGGGHHHH!!!! but before that, i went to give my phone for repair to the Sony Ericsson center. As i was walking back to meet Suet, something happened. There were 4 indian girls in front of me la. Shorter than me of course. So i was walking fast, and i overtook them. Suddenly i heard someone yell 'Eh! Eh!" shouting like damn loud la. But i didn't turn cos i didn't wanna be perasan. Then i felt something small hit my arm. Fucking hell, they threw something at me. No, i wasn't gonna let this go by. So i turned around and said "did u just throw something at me?" In a very what i hoped to be intimidating voice. Then the girl nearest me smiled and said 'no no' but i could see she was embarrased. They were all talking in Tamil which was very easy for me to ignore cos i don't know Tamil.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So i let it be and went into Bonita. When i came out, they were all sitting on a bench, jobless, waiting to tease me. When i came out they started blabbering la. So i went over to them, and i said 'U all have a problem is it??!! Out of the four girls, three girls smiled embarassing ly la. The other 'dominant' one just roled her eyes at me. So i pointed to her and said 'Do YOU have a problem with me??'. She just stared. I couldn't think of anything else to say. They were so freaking scared anyway. So i just said 'mind your own business, okay!!' and walked off. After i was like 20 meters away from them they were brave enough to tease me in Tamil again. Then one girl shouted "EH, whats that??!!" so i just put up my offensive finger and walked off sassily.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Bloody hell. I wish i did something more offensive tho. They're only brave in a group and when they THINK i'm not going to confront them. Once i stood in front of them they all shaddap edi. To tell the truth, my mouth was braver than my brain. Haha. Anyways, thats that, and i'll never understand why indians hate indians.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then i went out with Priya, Veena, Shah, Thushendran and their friend Jeya which i just met, for dinner. McDeeeeees! yay! Then we sat outside Pyramid and chatted for i think 2 hours, man! But its nice to hang out and just talk and do nothing else. The worst part of the night, i couldn't find my car. In front of 3 boys, i was acting like a typical blonde female who doesn't know where she parked her car. Every single time, i'm the one that finds the car sucessfully, and now, in front of other ppl i couldnt'!! My ego musnah! Anyways, since none of them wanted to help me WITHOUT taking the mickey out of me every 2 secs, i walked off in a huff to find my own car.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Boys, i tell yyoooouuu.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thank God Priya and Veena were with me. And the boys bet that if i can find my car, the next bottle is on them. OOOO yeah!! We're getting a bottle! What a birthday treat. lol. That's right! With my retracing skills, i found my car in less than 10 minutes. In your face!!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Okay, gtg stardee now. Can't wait for exams to be done with! Yippie! Wish me luck.&lt;br /&gt;Adios..&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6209156170517866045-3284476104268621667?l=chroniclesofnisha.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://chroniclesofnisha.blogspot.com/feeds/3284476104268621667/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6209156170517866045&amp;postID=3284476104268621667' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6209156170517866045/posts/default/3284476104268621667'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6209156170517866045/posts/default/3284476104268621667'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://chroniclesofnisha.blogspot.com/2008/11/chronicles-of-eventful-day.html' title='Chronicles of an eventful day.'/><author><name>~ da nISha da sTArZ ~</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17993639223556156336</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_XWMuZATG_so/S5Xm28E19BI/AAAAAAAADZ4/CqjfsZclYZE/S220/Untitled.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6209156170517866045.post-3618517216633943611</id><published>2008-11-17T23:45:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2008-11-18T00:03:58.595+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Breaking News!</title><content type='html'>I have decided to start a memory box. I was revamping my room yesterday (oh, i might be getting a brand new bed from Ikea!) and putting an Ikea bookshelf (yes, i love that shop) in my bedroom so i got more space to put a double bed (WOO HoO), and i came accross a few notes, and cards and decided on the spur of the moment that i need to get a memory box. So i'm starting one. So far its got 2 birthday cards, one from my aunt and one really meaningful one from Gloria, and its got a note which i found written in my old organizer by Krunz which i never knew before.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; I remember in school i had this friend Trudy, whom i used to write letters too after every exam paper, even though she sits like 2 rows away from me. We used to look forward to every letter. I don't keep in touch with her anymore tho. Which reminds me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today Ms woo asked us to draw three circles inside one another, and put our closest and dearest in the inner one, the so-so close but still dear in the second one, and the not close but still dear in the outer one. I had a better idea. I am gonna start an A3 sized piece of art with a nice colourful background, and write everybody's name who was/is significant in my life. The bigger names would be the most closest/dearest ones, and the smaller ones would be the less close but still dearest ones. And throughout my life, whoever i meet, i'll add their names there. By 50, if i get dementia, at least i'll still remember my friends. Am i genius or what? I mean, am i genius or am i genius?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Christmas and New year is coming! I'm gonna get Joanna and Neera a big big prezzie cos i didn't really give one to them for their birthday. Jo, if u read this, pretend u didn't. Just in case i don't find a suitable present by christmas, wtf. And my new years resolution would be? Well i dunno yet, but i'm considering these few:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. Meet a new person everyday&lt;br /&gt;2. Drink in moderation&lt;br /&gt;3. Stop being a bloody emo drunk (i owe Jo an apology)&lt;br /&gt;4. Do something new everyday&lt;br /&gt;5.  Shave my head (don't think it'l be happening)&lt;br /&gt;6. Be more honest of what i think abt ppl.&lt;br /&gt;7. Talk to Josh Groban dude (this should coincide with No. 1).&lt;br /&gt;8. Swear less&lt;br /&gt;9. Study harder (cliche, cliche)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yep, thats all i have so far. If i think of any, i'll post it up. As for now, i have to force myself to pack up my lappie so i don't get distracted from studying. Exams are comingggggg!!! Nooooo!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Okay i better go right now. Oh wait!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;10. Spend less time on Facebook, You Tube, and Blogger, and spend more time reading intellectual stuff online.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Toodles.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6209156170517866045-3618517216633943611?l=chroniclesofnisha.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://chroniclesofnisha.blogspot.com/feeds/3618517216633943611/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6209156170517866045&amp;postID=3618517216633943611' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6209156170517866045/posts/default/3618517216633943611'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6209156170517866045/posts/default/3618517216633943611'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://chroniclesofnisha.blogspot.com/2008/11/breaking-news.html' title='Breaking News!'/><author><name>~ da nISha da sTArZ ~</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17993639223556156336</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_XWMuZATG_so/S5Xm28E19BI/AAAAAAAADZ4/CqjfsZclYZE/S220/Untitled.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6209156170517866045.post-9128031172087051643</id><published>2008-11-12T00:34:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2008-11-12T01:03:45.575+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Unsung Heroes</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_XWMuZATG_so/SRm0aB83V6I/AAAAAAAACg8/F0SnyCaENTI/s1600-h/2.bmp"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 275px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_XWMuZATG_so/SRm0aB83V6I/AAAAAAAACg8/F0SnyCaENTI/s400/2.bmp" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5267439598479824802" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_XWMuZATG_so/SRm0aPYjZSI/AAAAAAAACg0/yrt4XIqvDmQ/s1600-h/untitled.bmp"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 319px; height: 360px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_XWMuZATG_so/SRm0aPYjZSI/AAAAAAAACg0/yrt4XIqvDmQ/s400/untitled.bmp" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5267439602085618978" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Omg, how cuuuute is that?&lt;br /&gt;I love pics like this. Makes me wanna be their damsel in distress, wtf.&lt;br /&gt;And omg, that cat is so cuuute!&lt;br /&gt;So is the soldier la..ahem.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6209156170517866045-9128031172087051643?l=chroniclesofnisha.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://chroniclesofnisha.blogspot.com/feeds/9128031172087051643/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6209156170517866045&amp;postID=9128031172087051643' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6209156170517866045/posts/default/9128031172087051643'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6209156170517866045/posts/default/9128031172087051643'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://chroniclesofnisha.blogspot.com/2008/11/unsung-heroes.html' title='Unsung Heroes'/><author><name>~ da nISha da sTArZ ~</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17993639223556156336</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_XWMuZATG_so/S5Xm28E19BI/AAAAAAAADZ4/CqjfsZclYZE/S220/Untitled.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_XWMuZATG_so/SRm0aB83V6I/AAAAAAAACg8/F0SnyCaENTI/s72-c/2.bmp' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6209156170517866045.post-8088679055977440196</id><published>2008-11-10T00:54:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2008-11-10T00:58:20.345+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_XWMuZATG_so/SRcWL-yC_1I/AAAAAAAACdE/lgFDkG1L3Zk/s1600-h/nisha.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 174px; height: 400px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_XWMuZATG_so/SRcWL-yC_1I/AAAAAAAACdE/lgFDkG1L3Zk/s400/nisha.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5266702684320366418" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Its amazing what Facebook can get you these days.&lt;br /&gt;Like this Photo.&lt;br /&gt;I can't take any credit tho.&lt;br /&gt;Done by &lt;a href="http://bowredartblog.blogspot.com/"&gt;Devarajah&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thanks, Deva! ;)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6209156170517866045-8088679055977440196?l=chroniclesofnisha.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://chroniclesofnisha.blogspot.com/feeds/8088679055977440196/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6209156170517866045&amp;postID=8088679055977440196' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6209156170517866045/posts/default/8088679055977440196'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6209156170517866045/posts/default/8088679055977440196'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://chroniclesofnisha.blogspot.com/2008/11/its-amazing-what-facebook-can-get-you.html' title=''/><author><name>~ da nISha da sTArZ ~</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17993639223556156336</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_XWMuZATG_so/S5Xm28E19BI/AAAAAAAADZ4/CqjfsZclYZE/S220/Untitled.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_XWMuZATG_so/SRcWL-yC_1I/AAAAAAAACdE/lgFDkG1L3Zk/s72-c/nisha.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6209156170517866045.post-8422064053806361206</id><published>2008-11-08T23:11:00.004+08:00</published><updated>2008-11-10T22:09:32.442+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Phew-itt!!</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_XWMuZATG_so/SRWsaYq_CrI/AAAAAAAABvo/z1Bj-JG_WTE/s1600-h/PICT0151.JPG"&gt;&lt;img src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_XWMuZATG_so/SRWsaYq_CrI/AAAAAAAABvo/z1Bj-JG_WTE/s320/PICT0151.JPG" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center;"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;The contact lenses..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_XWMuZATG_so/SRWsa2a3DuI/AAAAAAAABvw/WCAkoE-UZjE/s1600-h/PICT0150.JPG"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_XWMuZATG_so/SRWsbuSpV4I/AAAAAAAABv4/YK1mCKnezd0/s1600-h/PICT0149.JPG"&gt;&lt;img src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_XWMuZATG_so/SRWsbuSpV4I/AAAAAAAABv4/YK1mCKnezd0/s320/PICT0149.JPG" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;The guys&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_XWMuZATG_so/SRWsbhTAgOI/AAAAAAAABwA/BSSkiuXE8ZU/s1600-h/PICT0148.JPG"&gt;&lt;img src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_XWMuZATG_so/SRWsbhTAgOI/AAAAAAAABwA/BSSkiuXE8ZU/s320/PICT0148.JPG" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The girls&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://picasa.google.com/blogger/" target="ext"&gt;&lt;img src="http://photos1.blogger.com/pbp.gif" alt="Posted by Picasa" style="border: 0px none ; padding: 0px; background: transparent none repeat scroll 0% 50%; -moz-background-clip: -moz-initial; -moz-background-origin: -moz-initial; -moz-background-inline-policy: -moz-initial;" align="middle" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;This was my latest session of clubbing. Only 9 of us, but we had a blast. Got to meet up with 2 of my Ausmat buddies and the long overdue birthday bash with Shah!..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://lh3.ggpht.com/_XWMuZATG_so/SRWtiMBFyII/AAAAAAAABw8/8VI8ClGAU9s/s400/PICT0146.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 321px; height: 240px;" src="http://lh3.ggpht.com/_XWMuZATG_so/SRWtiMBFyII/AAAAAAAABw8/8VI8ClGAU9s/s400/PICT0146.JPG" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Everyone is high. For ONCE Dinesh is not rolling his eyes in the photo.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://lh5.ggpht.com/_XWMuZATG_so/SRWutuVV21I/AAAAAAAABzo/kaqnuYpHnp0/s400/PICT0123.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 239px;" src="http://lh5.ggpht.com/_XWMuZATG_so/SRWutuVV21I/AAAAAAAABzo/kaqnuYpHnp0/s400/PICT0123.JPG" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Shahnawaz Pallavi wearing my boots.&lt;br /&gt;the literal meaning of "boot-legging"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;To Shah and Priveena and Dinesh and to the other guys, if u want the photos, its on the web album. That little icon up there or at the bottom should take u there.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Omg, this is the first time in clubbing where i became the 'emo drunk'. Well, u can't blame me la, my two Ausmat classmates were there. I didn't feel emo untill Shah told someone "three of us are Ausmat buddies" and then i pictured our Ausmat classroom and all i wanted to do was sit in the corner and cry and wish i could rewind time. Thanks Shah, for comforting me and for lending me your shoulders. Literally, wtf.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;From one drunken day to the next. I had only 4 hours sleep, and supposed to meet Joanna for another drinking party the next day. Its MAD!! We went, got high, and before we knew it, we had drank from 10.30 pm to 8am in the morning! And i calculated that in the past 48 hours, i had only 4 hours sleep, man. What the hell. I'd only do this for JD though, not my assignments. But then again, if assignments could get someone drunk, then maybe i would.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now i'm in a state of confusion. Very confused. Whats "what"? When is "what" not "what"? Why does what have to be "what" anyway? And who on their right bloody mind created "what" in the first place? Fuck "what"! I want something else. I want "why". Its a better question to ask. Instead of "What the fuck", it should be "Why the fuck". It makes more sense. What the hell does "What the Fuck" mean anyway? "Why the fuck" is an actual question which can be rhetorical or not. "What the Fuck" is just a statement with 2 aims: To swear; and to fill up the gaps within conversations. Come on, you have to admit, I'm right, right? Even if u think i'm wrong, screw u! Who made u in charge??&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yes, i am THAT confused.&lt;br /&gt;If only God delivered me a book which had all the answers to every question in the world, indexed and illustrated for better understanding. It'll be my personal Bible. Damn, they should sell these things.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why, Why??&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;table style="width: 194px;"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr align="center"&gt;&lt;td style="background: transparent url(http://picasaweb.google.com/f/img/transparent_album_background.gif) no-repeat scroll left center; height: 194px; -moz-background-clip: -moz-initial; -moz-background-origin: -moz-initial; -moz-background-inline-policy: -moz-initial;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/nisha.starz88/BarCelona#"&gt;&lt;img src="http://lh4.ggpht.com/_XWMuZATG_so/SRWtIrnRsCE/AAAAAAAACDI/JGuH-Sf_hkk/s160-c/BarCelona.jpg" style="margin: 1px 0pt 0pt 4px;" height="160" width="160" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="text-align: center; font-family: arial,sans-serif; font-size: 11px;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/nisha.starz88/BarCelona#" style="color: rgb(77, 77, 77); font-weight: bold; text-decoration: none;"&gt;Bar Celona&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6209156170517866045-8422064053806361206?l=chroniclesofnisha.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://chroniclesofnisha.blogspot.com/feeds/8422064053806361206/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6209156170517866045&amp;postID=8422064053806361206' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6209156170517866045/posts/default/8422064053806361206'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6209156170517866045/posts/default/8422064053806361206'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://chroniclesofnisha.blogspot.com/2008/11/phew-itt.html' title='Phew-itt!!'/><author><name>~ da nISha da sTArZ ~</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17993639223556156336</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_XWMuZATG_so/S5Xm28E19BI/AAAAAAAADZ4/CqjfsZclYZE/S220/Untitled.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_XWMuZATG_so/SRWsaYq_CrI/AAAAAAAABvo/z1Bj-JG_WTE/s72-c/PICT0151.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6209156170517866045.post-9067469320717657473</id><published>2008-10-25T00:37:00.004+08:00</published><updated>2008-10-25T00:59:10.419+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Hypnotized by Kuih Ros..wtf</title><content type='html'>Today, i realized how insecure i have become. Yea, so insecure that i hv become scared to go out of my house. Of course, the crime that has happened (mainly snatches) right in fromt of my gate has contributed, but still. Today me and my mum were making Kuih Ros, and my mum asked me to buy dinner cos she dun wanna cook la. Suddenly i regressed to a 5 year old child who wanted to cry cos she didn't get her way. I was making such a fuss about going out to buy food, and now that i thought about it, it was more my insecurity that was bothering me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When my daddy comes back in the weekend, all my sense of fear is gone, seriously. I sleep peacefully at night without thinking of all the worst-case scenarios that could happen, and without the burden of being the one in charge if anything DOES happen. My dad's always travelling for his projects, but i'm so so proud of him cos sometimes he gets big ass projects like the one he's working on now. I even got to find out that he came up with the design for one of the underground LRT tracks and tunnels. I mean, how cool is that? But sometimes i wish he's here more often so that i can feel safe and sound.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No matter how thick skinned i try to make myself, i still admit, i feel safe when there is a guy around. Previously when my dad travelled, my bro will be the 'head of the house'. Now its me, of course. Unless i get married soon, wtf. Better be a cute Pakistani/Middle Eastern guy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wonder whether the fact that my dad used to travel when i was a very small girl, made me insecure like this? I remember an incident when he was leaving for Sarawak to work there when i was arounnd 5 or 6 yrs old, and i was always the one crying for him not to go. Always. I also remember the day i stopped crying. I dunno how old i was, but i think that was the day i decided to accept it. Just like the Kuih Rose, if you touch it with the ladle too early when its hot, it might go out of shape and it will stay out of shape even after its cooled.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Holy cow, i dunno what's gotten into me. Its 1am now, i'm going to PD tomorrow, i've yet to finish my Treatment Proposal (or even start), and i've just finished cooking Kuih Ros like a good housewife. I think the Kuih Ros vapours are getting into my head like how Ugly Betty was poisoned by Mrs Meade's perfume vapours. Eew!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;O.........kay. I think its time to go. Toodles.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6209156170517866045-9067469320717657473?l=chroniclesofnisha.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://chroniclesofnisha.blogspot.com/feeds/9067469320717657473/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6209156170517866045&amp;postID=9067469320717657473' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6209156170517866045/posts/default/9067469320717657473'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6209156170517866045/posts/default/9067469320717657473'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://chroniclesofnisha.blogspot.com/2008/10/hypnotized-by-kuih-roswtf.html' title='Hypnotized by Kuih Ros..wtf'/><author><name>~ da nISha da sTArZ ~</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17993639223556156336</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_XWMuZATG_so/S5Xm28E19BI/AAAAAAAADZ4/CqjfsZclYZE/S220/Untitled.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6209156170517866045.post-634489263752801847</id><published>2008-10-24T21:33:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2008-10-24T21:41:01.040+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_UoZESl2wFis/SQC9DCkFowI/AAAAAAAAG6I/hcLgTSMMNWE/s1600/PA231385.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 501px; height: 375px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_UoZESl2wFis/SQC9DCkFowI/AAAAAAAAG6I/hcLgTSMMNWE/s1600/PA231385.JPG" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);font-size:180%;" &gt;We Rawk!&lt;br /&gt;Great Workshop, team!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 0, 0);font-size:85%;" &gt;Especially on the Pakistani attendees..lol wtf&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6209156170517866045-634489263752801847?l=chroniclesofnisha.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://chroniclesofnisha.blogspot.com/feeds/634489263752801847/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6209156170517866045&amp;postID=634489263752801847' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6209156170517866045/posts/default/634489263752801847'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6209156170517866045/posts/default/634489263752801847'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://chroniclesofnisha.blogspot.com/2008/10/we-rawk-great-workshop-team-especially.html' title=''/><author><name>~ da nISha da sTArZ ~</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17993639223556156336</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_XWMuZATG_so/S5Xm28E19BI/AAAAAAAADZ4/CqjfsZclYZE/S220/Untitled.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_UoZESl2wFis/SQC9DCkFowI/AAAAAAAAG6I/hcLgTSMMNWE/s72-c/PA231385.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6209156170517866045.post-4792334771845302845</id><published>2008-10-23T23:29:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2008-10-23T23:53:29.738+08:00</updated><title type='text'>What a day, what a day..</title><content type='html'>I'm gonna trash Yong Long in this post. All those who wanna join in, feel free to leave rude, insulting comments dedicated to him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So my spoilt brat classmate couldn't take it that when he checked out how readers end up finding his blog, he found that people search for this and end up finding his blog:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://i153.photobucket.com/albums/s212/Stinger_89_YL/Search%20Engine%20Pics/2nd/Supercutenisha.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 443px; height: 64px;" src="http://i153.photobucket.com/albums/s212/Stinger_89_YL/Search%20Engine%20Pics/2nd/Supercutenisha.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Which technically means, that u should thank me for existing cos thats how some people actually know of YOUR existence wtf. But instead of thanking me, this depressed, weird, baddass wannabe goes and types this in the search engine:&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://i153.photobucket.com/albums/s212/Stinger_89_YL/Search%20Engine%20Pics/2nd/Weshareadream.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 439px; height: 128px;" src="http://i153.photobucket.com/albums/s212/Stinger_89_YL/Search%20Engine%20Pics/2nd/Weshareadream.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;No, the blacked out lines was not my doing. It was his. I wonder what was so bad he didn't wanna reveal it. Well, i gave it a minutes thought and came up with this:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. Total Weirdo&lt;br /&gt;2. Some badass wannabe&lt;br /&gt;3. One expression face&lt;br /&gt;4. Transgender&lt;br /&gt;5. Cross-dresser&lt;br /&gt;6. Male chauvinist with suicidal thoughts (that will explain the long, blacked-out one)&lt;br /&gt;7. Catatonic Schizophrenic with severe facial catatonia (explains expressionless face)&lt;br /&gt;8. Deluded moronic boy who severely needs to stop pushing people's water bottles around, wtf.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yea thats all. Today we organized a workshop for understanding Body Language between guys and girls. Oh my GAWD! there was a Super cute tall Pakistani guy (i hate u suets) who came, but i didn't know how to approach him without looking kinda obvious. And he had this super cute friend who was short, unfortunately, but who gave me a BIG adorable smile when he came in. Aww. Oh, and this happened after me and suet served food:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Me:&lt;/span&gt; Hey Su Woan, good job in hiding the rest of the sandwiches for us&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Su Woan:&lt;/span&gt; Yea, ya, thanks!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Me:&lt;/span&gt; That was totally baddass, man &lt;span style="font-style: italic;font-size:85%;" &gt;(in a cool homie way)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Su Woan:&lt;/span&gt; Huh? Bad - Ass ar? Whats that?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*cricket, cricket*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yea, it was quite funny actually. There were some jacuuns in the workshop who only picked the cheese tarts off the plates and left the sandwiches and cakes there. wtf, man. Then some girl came up to me and said "Hey, Nisha, good workshop". I got totally freaked out cos i was thinking how on earth she knew my name? or did someone intro us but i forgot? Then she said "you are the one who did Ice-Breaking rite".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Phew!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;P.S. Jananie, how come u don't have a profile?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6209156170517866045-4792334771845302845?l=chroniclesofnisha.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://chroniclesofnisha.blogspot.com/feeds/4792334771845302845/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6209156170517866045&amp;postID=4792334771845302845' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6209156170517866045/posts/default/4792334771845302845'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6209156170517866045/posts/default/4792334771845302845'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://chroniclesofnisha.blogspot.com/2008/10/what-day-what-day.html' title='What a day, what a day..'/><author><name>~ da nISha da sTArZ ~</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17993639223556156336</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_XWMuZATG_so/S5Xm28E19BI/AAAAAAAADZ4/CqjfsZclYZE/S220/Untitled.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6209156170517866045.post-6205283422063230850</id><published>2008-10-18T14:37:00.006+08:00</published><updated>2008-10-20T00:18:58.875+08:00</updated><title type='text'>An unforgettable day!</title><content type='html'>It has been exactly 1 week since we were in the Sunway Inter-University challenge!! In case any of you are blur, Sunway Lagoon held an inter-university challenge with about 10 uni's taking part i think. Each college are allowed to bring 15 representatives. Me and Suet was one of the 15 for Sunway University College la. Doesn't she remind u of Amanda from Ugly Betty? Lol.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_XWMuZATG_so/SPmHXtguRGI/AAAAAAAABsE/odDUUFwPFNw/s1600-h/DSC01330.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 253px; height: 190px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_XWMuZATG_so/SPmHXtguRGI/AAAAAAAABsE/odDUUFwPFNw/s320/DSC01330.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5258382881355351138" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_XWMuZATG_so/SPtc4ggQwjI/AAAAAAAABss/chH4tOPqdFE/s1600-h/n709551718_1508640_4212.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_XWMuZATG_so/SPtc4ggQwjI/AAAAAAAABss/chH4tOPqdFE/s320/n709551718_1508640_4212.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5258899115752866354" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_XWMuZATG_so/SPtc4gkDAbI/AAAAAAAABs0/3h1faqyek1g/s1600-h/n709551718_1508642_4689.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_XWMuZATG_so/SPtc4gkDAbI/AAAAAAAABs0/3h1faqyek1g/s320/n709551718_1508642_4689.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5258899115768742322" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;us all hyped up before it began&lt;br /&gt;"S" for Sunway!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;What was the challenge? Well, i think it was inspired a tiny bit from Amazing race. What we had to do was go around the whole of Sunway Lagoon's 5 different parks and complete as many tasks we can from the 20 tasks enlisted within 2 and a half hours. After completing each task, we usually get 1 point which is a sticker that we stick on a piece of paper that was given. The team with the most points win, of course, and if ur late to make it back, every 1 minute they will minus 1 point. That was quite costly.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And then there were these moderators following us around and taking notes about how we handle the situations. All the information they recorded will be used when and if we apply for internship in Sunway i think. Anyways, the tasks was very fun but so so tiring. We had to run around the whole park and sit for rides that i swore to myself i was never gonna sit for in my whole life. Yea, like this one:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_XWMuZATG_so/SPmHYTG1H4I/AAAAAAAABsc/BoEyEYUyMJk/s1600-h/DSC01166.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 227px; height: 170px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_XWMuZATG_so/SPmHYTG1H4I/AAAAAAAABsc/BoEyEYUyMJk/s320/DSC01166.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5258382891447295874" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Its called the Pirate. Anyone who ever sat for this ride 5 years back (ahem, me), would think that the ship does not go upside down. But it DOES!! &lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_XWMuZATG_so/SPmHYdMZJVI/AAAAAAAABsk/W1VZjhZVBtE/s1600-h/DSC01165.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 252px; height: 189px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_XWMuZATG_so/SPmHYdMZJVI/AAAAAAAABsk/W1VZjhZVBtE/s320/DSC01165.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5258382894154982738" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Last sem when we took some oprhan kids to the petting zoo, i took a picture of this to blog about how scary it was but never got around to doing it. Who knew the next time we actually had to sit on it! (btw, this wasn't the worst task)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Okay, to avoid this post becoming too long, i'll just talk about the interesting tasks. But here's what we did anyway.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;1. Sat for Colorado Splash Flume Ride&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;2.Prayed for rain while lying on our stomachs and got splashed with water&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;3. Threw a water balloon into the moving boats of the River Rapid ride (which we failed)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;4. Threw 3 darts on the  Bulls eye!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;5. Sat on the ferry's wheel while one person flashed alphabet flash-cards at the people on the ferry' wheel.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This was funny. I was the one flashing the cards so i used the letters C-P-U cos it was easy. But i didn't know that after my team mates saw the letters from the ferry's wheel, they supposed to name an animal after each letter. This is when we got stuck at 'U'. What starts with 'U'? Our team leader shouted "Utopus" and the mascot in charge accepted it. It's not even a word.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;6.Sat on the Pirate thingy while singing a song. (bloody hell! Its so scary man, we were swearing non-stop!)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;7. Kissed a snake&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;8. Sat on the Tomahawk which is just like th Pirate, except there is two hanging thingies and it goes upside down TWICE!&lt;/span&gt; I was almost in tears before the ride started, man. I was soo scared shitless! Thanks Suet, for ditching me. lol.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;9. 4 of our team mates carried a girl on a stretcher blindfolded, and suppose to carry her along a distance of about 2 M on which water bottles were placed. The water bottles cannot fall.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;10. Flying Fox. Someone was geared onto that flying thingy, i dunno what u call it.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;11. Tarzan Dance under the hot sun&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;12. Rounding the Mushroom.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This was quite dizzy. What we supposed to do was go to the surf beach, under the mushroom where water will be running on our heads and hold a pole to the ground and go around it 10 times. It sounds easy but we're doing it in the water with water on our heads untill we can bearly see. And with the water resistence and all, after the 6th or 7th time, you can barely stand or make out what position u are. 10 members had to do this challenge.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;13. This was our last challenge but unfortunately, i can't remember what it is.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, after all this we ran back with 5 minutes to spare. We couldn't do the other 7 tasks. But still, guess who came in 2nd place??&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_XWMuZATG_so/SPtc5dlanEI/AAAAAAAABtE/CukLnw476dA/s1600-h/n709551718_1508652_7176.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_XWMuZATG_so/SPtc5dlanEI/AAAAAAAABtE/CukLnw476dA/s320/n709551718_1508652_7176.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5258899132149046338" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_XWMuZATG_so/SPmHYAjUaRI/AAAAAAAABsU/YQJrSL0S6ss/s1600-h/DSC01331.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_XWMuZATG_so/SPmHYAjUaRI/AAAAAAAABsU/YQJrSL0S6ss/s320/DSC01331.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5258382886466513170" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Yea man!! Our team did! The others took group photos but i haven't gotten my hands on it yet.&lt;br /&gt;We were so hyped and proud of ourselves! Weeeee! And not only that, we get to roam around in Sunway Lagoon for free!! Oh yea!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Omg, i must story about the Scream Park. We went there after we won la. So when we first went it, i was a little scared cos dunno what to expect. So when this ghost screamed at me, i screamed back wtf. Its just a human ghost la. Then i notice that the ghost was smiling everytime he scared someone, like he couldn't stand Not laughing. So i asked it, "are u laughing? Why are u laughing? U supposed to be scary" and i noticed the same ghost was following us everywhere. Haha, what i stalker ghost. I asked him about it too, but he didn't answer. Duh. THEN, came to this room where we supposed to watch a scary video i think. So we were all a bit tensed up, suddenly, got disc error, man! Blue Screen! HAHA! We were all laughing! then that same ghost just now was using a remote control to try and fix it and we were like "what? Ghost can use TV meh?" haha.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then the other half of the walk was a 'prison area'. like all the rowdy scary prisoners. Before we went in, there was a guy dressed as a policeman in front of the locked door la. And our dear joker of the day (suet) said 'Nooo! WHo are you??? are u supposed to be a ghost??" ..haha! The guy was like "errr, no. I'm a policeman". *cricket cricket*.&lt;br /&gt;Then we went in only, all the prisoners were Indians, man! I was not gonna shut up. I straight away said 'why all the prisoners indian? So racist! ' And then, after a while, this fat short indian prisoner went 'DEI!!!' while leaning on the cage. Haha, almost laughed out loud. Then another prisoner pointed us the way when we got lost and tried to scare us 1 minute later when we followed his directions. These little moments, i tell u, hillarious!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But the most amazing thing about this walk was the spinning room. There was this bridge in this tunnel la. The bridge was steady, just that the wall of the tunnel was colourful and it was spinning. So when we went in, we cannot walk, man, cos we felt like the bridge was moving. but if u close ur eyes and walk, no problem, if u open your eyes, you'll be like grabbing the bridge and quatting for your balance even though its stable.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After that it started to rain, so we left the place feeling absolutely tired but satisfied. Haiz. What a memorable day!&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_XWMuZATG_so/SPmHX05xtOI/AAAAAAAABsM/T24FcIkYyyE/s1600-h/DSC01332.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_XWMuZATG_so/SPmHX05xtOI/AAAAAAAABsM/T24FcIkYyyE/s320/DSC01332.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5258382883339482338" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_XWMuZATG_so/SPtc41PxlvI/AAAAAAAABs8/I6U1mh4nR3k/s1600-h/n709551718_1508647_5879.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_XWMuZATG_so/SPtc41PxlvI/AAAAAAAABs8/I6U1mh4nR3k/s320/n709551718_1508647_5879.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5258899121320859378" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6209156170517866045-6205283422063230850?l=chroniclesofnisha.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://chroniclesofnisha.blogspot.com/feeds/6205283422063230850/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6209156170517866045&amp;postID=6205283422063230850' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6209156170517866045/posts/default/6205283422063230850'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6209156170517866045/posts/default/6205283422063230850'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://chroniclesofnisha.blogspot.com/2008/10/unforgettable-day.html' title='An unforgettable day!'/><author><name>~ da nISha da sTArZ ~</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17993639223556156336</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_XWMuZATG_so/S5Xm28E19BI/AAAAAAAADZ4/CqjfsZclYZE/S220/Untitled.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_XWMuZATG_so/SPmHXtguRGI/AAAAAAAABsE/odDUUFwPFNw/s72-c/DSC01330.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6209156170517866045.post-3710978084862849900</id><published>2008-10-17T00:29:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2008-10-17T00:38:14.199+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;To &lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 153, 0);font-size:180%;" &gt;Shahnawaz Pallavi&lt;/span&gt;:&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_XWMuZATG_so/SPdtyUu23dI/AAAAAAAABhY/1pNJo0scIbI/s1600-h/DSC00298.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 177px; height: 133px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_XWMuZATG_so/SPdtyUu23dI/AAAAAAAABhY/1pNJo0scIbI/s320/DSC00298.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5257791801304473042" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 255);"&gt;Happy Belated Birthday&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153);"&gt;I&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153);font-size:130%;" &gt;'m so sorry i couldn't make it to Celona tonight&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 0, 0);"&gt;But i'll be there the next time!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);"&gt;LOVE U LOADS!!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);font-size:85%;" &gt;muaxxx muaxx muaxx muaxx muaxx muaxx&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;See u and Dinesh next week! WEeeee!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6209156170517866045-3710978084862849900?l=chroniclesofnisha.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://chroniclesofnisha.blogspot.com/feeds/3710978084862849900/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6209156170517866045&amp;postID=3710978084862849900' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6209156170517866045/posts/default/3710978084862849900'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6209156170517866045/posts/default/3710978084862849900'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://chroniclesofnisha.blogspot.com/2008/10/to-shahnawaz-pallavi-happy-belated.html' title=''/><author><name>~ da nISha da sTArZ ~</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17993639223556156336</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_XWMuZATG_so/S5Xm28E19BI/AAAAAAAADZ4/CqjfsZclYZE/S220/Untitled.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_XWMuZATG_so/SPdtyUu23dI/AAAAAAAABhY/1pNJo0scIbI/s72-c/DSC00298.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6209156170517866045.post-8916858853229577904</id><published>2008-10-16T19:59:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2008-10-16T20:45:04.014+08:00</updated><title type='text'>My experience with a ticking bomb..(okay, a bit drama la, the title)</title><content type='html'>Today, i saw a side of a lecturer i thought i would never see. Yes, i've heard people talk about how fussy and strict she can be, but i always thought it was exxaggerated. Oh, how was i wrong. I dunno why i somehow tend to get on the wrong side of lecturers. Haiz. Ok, so this is what happened.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;The situation&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I had to do my WAIS-R on my real subject, hence i needed a room to administer it in. It actually supposed to be yesterday la, but my subject cancelled it and i totally forgot that the room i booked was for yesterday instead of today. So i thought i can book last minute la right? Takkan ALL the rooms also booked at the same time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh dear, i was wrong again. ALL the observation rooms were booked by Ms Elaine untill 5pm this evening. Shit. So i heard that Ms Woo said we can use the student staff discussion room on thursdays if the observation room is being used for experiment. I didn't really know that i can only use it if the interns are doing experiment. So i tried my luck. Unfortunately, Ms Genie and Ms Woo wasn't there, and Dr Teoh was on the phone. Someone told me Genie went back, so i went and being the smart ass i was, stuck my head into Ms Elaine's room. Ms Elaine wasn't there though. So i asked another lecturer. &lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;(only 2 others in that same room, u figure out who lah)&lt;/span&gt;. The minute i opened my mouth i regretted it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;What she should have done:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Talked to me nicely and tell me she wasn't in charge and that i was to ask Ms Genie and NOT make a HUGE ass deal about it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;What she did:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Made a &lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;HUGE&lt;/span&gt; ass deal about it. Seriously. She was shouting at me, not exaggerating. This was how the convo went:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Lecturer&lt;/span&gt;: Did u book the room&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Nisha:&lt;/span&gt; No, because....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Lecturer&lt;/span&gt;: why?? (interrupts)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Nisha&lt;/span&gt;: Well, because i forgot to do it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Lecturer&lt;/span&gt;: You forget to book the room, u don't inform anyone, then u expect us to open the room for u like that?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Nisha&lt;/span&gt;: Well, no, i was going to ask Ms Genie but she wasn't there.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Lecturer&lt;/span&gt;: The student discussion room is ONLY for student-lecturer discussions.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Nisha&lt;/span&gt;: Yea, but i heard that on thursdays we could use it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Lecturer&lt;/span&gt;: Who told u that?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Nisha&lt;/span&gt;: A few of my friends. Because on tuesday i didn't come right, so i...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Lecturer&lt;/span&gt;: WHO?? (by this point she's shouting at me and there was angry tears in her eyes, man)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Nisha&lt;/span&gt;: I'm not sure, one of the lecturers, i think (I knew it was Ms Woo, but i didn't wanna say cos i didn't hear it first hand from her)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Lecturer&lt;/span&gt;: WHOOOO?????? (Omg, she was screaming)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Nisha&lt;/span&gt;: Ms Woo, i think.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Lecturer&lt;/span&gt;: I can't just let u in like that, i'm not in charge of the room! Its Ms Genie, u hv to wait for her to come back!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Nisha&lt;/span&gt;: Oh, i'm sorry, someone told me she went back home and Ms woo wasn't there. I'll just wait for her(WAT DA FARK??? Not in charge of the room also screaming like that like you're my boss dammit!)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Then she leads me to the office and asked if i've booked the student discussion room&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Nisha&lt;/span&gt;: How? There's no file for it to be booked!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Lecturer&lt;/span&gt;: With Ms GENIE LA!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Nisha&lt;/span&gt;: Ya, i was just going to book it!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Lecturer&lt;/span&gt;: Why just only?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Nisha&lt;/span&gt;: Because i forgot, all this was a bit last minute because yesterday....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Lecturer&lt;/span&gt;: U cannot do your WAIS last minute!! (interrupts me YET again)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Nisha&lt;/span&gt;: I know that. I'm sorry, i forgot (by this time i realize there was no negotiating with her so i just nodded my head every time she said something)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Lecturer&lt;/span&gt;: So how now?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Nisha&lt;/span&gt;: I dunno, postpone it i guess (Bloody hell, she was annoying me)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Lecturer&lt;/span&gt;: Go book the WAIS-R first.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Nisha&lt;/span&gt;: But i got no room how?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Lecturer&lt;/span&gt;: I give u the room la! Next time don't do this!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Nisha&lt;/span&gt;: Nods head.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Ms Genie comes back and lecturer asks her whether students are allowed to use the room. Although i couldn't understand chinese, i could make out that the answer was yes, if the lab was being used.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Lecturer&lt;/span&gt;: Oh, so u can use the room.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Nisha&lt;/span&gt;: Ok (in my head i was saying, &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;i told u so!!&lt;/span&gt;)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;THEN, i think this lecturer went and complained about me to the course co-ordinator about what i did. So later Ms Woo asked me to "&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;see her in her office&lt;/span&gt;". She was very nice la, i knew she'll be more reasonable. So she was telling me that her allowing the students to use the room was a judgment call and that i still should book the rooms. I told her that ALL the Observation rooms were booked till 5pm, padahal they finished at 2.30 pm and no one was using it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She was so cute, man. She was like "Haaa?? 5-P-M-AR?? ohhhh, then its okay la" with big big eyes. lol. So then i apologized that it became such a big issue la. She was like, "No la, its okay, just inform the others ok? Its just a misunderstanding, thats all". If the course co-ordinator can speak to me like that, i dun understand why the lecturer couldn't. Yea, she might have been having a bad day, but still, don't take your anger out on us. You're a &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Psychologist&lt;/span&gt;, for God's sake.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And i really couldn't stand it that she didn't wait for me to finish what i was saying. So childish man. Even more childish was, after the WAIS, i was so tired, i couldn't care less already. I saw her outside and i smiled, and she just looked at me and ignored me. WTH??? And why was she shouting, man? U'll never achieve anything from shouting! When i could see she was so close to spilling angry tears, i just told myself to not talk back and just shaddap and nod.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ish, what an experience. Some lecturers really have issues.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6209156170517866045-8916858853229577904?l=chroniclesofnisha.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://chroniclesofnisha.blogspot.com/feeds/8916858853229577904/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6209156170517866045&amp;postID=8916858853229577904' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6209156170517866045/posts/default/8916858853229577904'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6209156170517866045/posts/default/8916858853229577904'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://chroniclesofnisha.blogspot.com/2008/10/my-experience-with-ticking-bombokay-bit.html' title='My experience with a ticking bomb..(okay, a bit drama la, the title)'/><author><name>~ da nISha da sTArZ ~</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17993639223556156336</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_XWMuZATG_so/S5Xm28E19BI/AAAAAAAADZ4/CqjfsZclYZE/S220/Untitled.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6209156170517866045.post-8871001543962666533</id><published>2008-10-08T23:31:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2008-10-08T23:49:12.443+08:00</updated><title type='text'>We Rock!!</title><content type='html'>Omg, our dance was such a hit yesterday!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yes, its the prayer week and i've been going to the prayer house almost everyday for lunch and dinner! Food's good as usual, and meeting up and chatting with long lost friends always leaves a sense of nostalgia of how we use to have a "gang" when we were small and perform together and what not.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, yesterday was just our day! The dance that i mostly choreographed was actually cheered on by the crowd! Thanks to Monisha, Shona, Mithali, Tiara, and Serena for bringing the dance to live! Without u guys...er...i wud hv been performing solo. wth. Our song was a medley which i mixed using a software, i took a video but haven't figured out how to transfer it yet.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have a confession to make: I wanna hv kids when i grow up. But only angelic, innocent, non-bratty ones. After watching many tiny tods today, especially a few who smiled when they looked at me (cos they made me feel cool wth), i really want some&lt;s&gt;thing&lt;/s&gt;one like that. Except i wanna inject them with some fierce hormone that prevents them from growing up or becoming bratty. EVER.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No, seriously. Cos if they ever get bratty, i might lose my temper and end up eating toddler-soup or something. I AM capable of that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So anyway, girls, if you're reading this, i just want to let u know that people were still congratulating me (hence, us) tonight about the performance! I think they might ask us to perform again for Deepavali! You know what my answer is, no? NO! Why? &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Cos if you're good at something, never do it for free (Joker, 2008)&lt;/span&gt;. No la, just that we have to find more ppl to replace shona and serena and it will be a pain cos only &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;we're&lt;/span&gt; good like that! Woooot!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Toodles ya'l. I'll upload video soon!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6209156170517866045-8871001543962666533?l=chroniclesofnisha.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://chroniclesofnisha.blogspot.com/feeds/8871001543962666533/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6209156170517866045&amp;postID=8871001543962666533' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6209156170517866045/posts/default/8871001543962666533'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6209156170517866045/posts/default/8871001543962666533'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://chroniclesofnisha.blogspot.com/2008/10/we-rock.html' title='We Rock!!'/><author><name>~ da nISha da sTArZ ~</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17993639223556156336</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_XWMuZATG_so/S5Xm28E19BI/AAAAAAAADZ4/CqjfsZclYZE/S220/Untitled.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6209156170517866045.post-2121217927633141948</id><published>2008-10-05T23:03:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2008-10-05T23:06:31.177+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Handbags!</title><content type='html'>ok, if u people want designer style handbags for an affordable price, THIS is the place to go.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.handbagplanet.com"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_XWMuZATG_so/SOjXiKVqiAI/AAAAAAAAAn0/HebGbtNpCmM/s320/handbag+planet1.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5253685947218429954" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They're also giving away handbags every hour or something. Click &lt;a href="http://www.handbagplanet.com"&gt;here&lt;/a&gt; or the image above to go to the webite.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I dunno why i'm doing this. lol.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6209156170517866045-2121217927633141948?l=chroniclesofnisha.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://chroniclesofnisha.blogspot.com/feeds/2121217927633141948/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6209156170517866045&amp;postID=2121217927633141948' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6209156170517866045/posts/default/2121217927633141948'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6209156170517866045/posts/default/2121217927633141948'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://chroniclesofnisha.blogspot.com/2008/10/handbags.html' title='Handbags!'/><author><name>~ da nISha da sTArZ ~</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17993639223556156336</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_XWMuZATG_so/S5Xm28E19BI/AAAAAAAADZ4/CqjfsZclYZE/S220/Untitled.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_XWMuZATG_so/SOjXiKVqiAI/AAAAAAAAAn0/HebGbtNpCmM/s72-c/handbag+planet1.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6209156170517866045.post-2429441857817548233</id><published>2008-10-04T19:46:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2008-10-04T19:48:20.305+08:00</updated><title type='text'>OMG Hillarious</title><content type='html'>&lt;object height="349" width="425"&gt;Omg, funnier than 'taking the hobbits to isenguard!! Must watch!&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/gRcj6CAhe7s&amp;amp;hl=en&amp;amp;fs=1&amp;amp;rel=0&amp;amp;color1=0x006699&amp;amp;color2=0x54abd6&amp;amp;border=1"&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/gRcj6CAhe7s&amp;amp;hl=en&amp;amp;fs=1&amp;amp;rel=0&amp;amp;color1=0x006699&amp;amp;color2=0x54abd6&amp;amp;border=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowfullscreen="true" height="349" width="425"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6209156170517866045-2429441857817548233?l=chroniclesofnisha.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://chroniclesofnisha.blogspot.com/feeds/2429441857817548233/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6209156170517866045&amp;postID=2429441857817548233' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6209156170517866045/posts/default/2429441857817548233'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6209156170517866045/posts/default/2429441857817548233'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://chroniclesofnisha.blogspot.com/2008/10/omg-hillarious.html' title='OMG Hillarious'/><author><name>~ da nISha da sTArZ ~</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17993639223556156336</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_XWMuZATG_so/S5Xm28E19BI/AAAAAAAADZ4/CqjfsZclYZE/S220/Untitled.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6209156170517866045.post-5514321355950344643</id><published>2008-10-04T15:25:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2008-10-04T15:29:56.653+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Yong Long's Mama Mia</title><content type='html'>&lt;object height="349" width="425"&gt;Omg, Hillarious! A bit shaky, sorry.&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/ii_Jsdv5Vyo&amp;amp;hl=en&amp;amp;fs=1&amp;amp;rel=0&amp;amp;color1=0x006699&amp;amp;color2=0x54abd6&amp;amp;border=1"&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/ii_Jsdv5Vyo&amp;amp;hl=en&amp;amp;fs=1&amp;amp;rel=0&amp;amp;color1=0x006699&amp;amp;color2=0x54abd6&amp;amp;border=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowfullscreen="true" height="349" width="425"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6209156170517866045-5514321355950344643?l=chroniclesofnisha.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://chroniclesofnisha.blogspot.com/feeds/5514321355950344643/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6209156170517866045&amp;postID=5514321355950344643' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6209156170517866045/posts/default/5514321355950344643'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6209156170517866045/posts/default/5514321355950344643'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://chroniclesofnisha.blogspot.com/2008/10/yong-longs-mama-mia.html' title='Yong Long&apos;s Mama Mia'/><author><name>~ da nISha da sTArZ ~</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17993639223556156336</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_XWMuZATG_so/S5Xm28E19BI/AAAAAAAADZ4/CqjfsZclYZE/S220/Untitled.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6209156170517866045.post-4282635722628587439</id><published>2008-10-03T00:08:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2008-10-03T00:43:25.420+08:00</updated><title type='text'>I'm a couch potato and proud of it!!</title><content type='html'>Today i watched a Hindi movie after 742 years. No kidding.&lt;br /&gt;The thing with hindi movies, is that its so darn predictable. Love triangles here, there, conspiracies, i can tell u how the movie goes when i watch the beginning. Anyway,&lt;br /&gt;the movie i watched today caught my attention because it was not at ALL like other hindi movies. This was an Amir Khan production about a teacher discovering and guiding a student with dyslexia.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dammit, i didn't see the movie title. But it was gooood.  A bit draggy though but, oh well, hindi movies are supposed to be at least 3 hours long, i suppose.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So it began with this boy who's stuck in grade 3 for 2 years. He has trouble reading and writing and focusing his attention. From his writing that they showed, and the way he gets so frustrated in class all the time, i could tell he had dyslexia from the beginning. Just like Albert Eintstein, Tom Cruise, Abishek Bachan, Thomas Edison, etc... So this teacher educated his parents (especially the dad who thought his son was a retard), and soon the teacher became a significant person in the boy's life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Haiz, it made me think of all my teachers who made a difference in my life. From primary school i had this teacher called Pn Haizan who was strict yet dedicated and very pretty malay teacher. Then to Secondary school with Mrs Prem who was my form 1 geography teacher, gosh, she was so happening. She had an extremely cute son in the school as well! Then in form 4 i had the most wonderful chemistry teacher, &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Pn Yap &lt;/span&gt;who again was very strict but in a funny way sometimes. I remember how Kenderick used to geddit from her. I kinda loved Chemistry bcos of her. She was extremely, freakishly, perfectly, dedicated.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Gosh, then there was this indian teacher, &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Pn Shamala&lt;/span&gt;, who taught us english and who never failed to scold me once a day. I swear there was this one time where all the boys were talking in front, and i was doing my work at the back like a good girl &lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;(one of those  rare times)&lt;/span&gt; then i looked up to my left to think about something and, as quick as our PM falling asleep, she shouted '&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Nisha! Stop talking and do your work&lt;/span&gt;!!'. I didn't even bother to argue with her.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then there was this &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Add math bitch&lt;/span&gt; who acted like a broom stick was stuck up her wrong end. The first day of class she started firing us all about getting a job. Talk about anal.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then comes to ausmat and my beloved Chem teacher, &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Ms Vanitha&lt;/span&gt; who was the best chem teacher and the most sarcastically twisted teacher if u don't do your work.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I never did my work. But still, she was the greatest in ausmat i think. Even now when i see her, i hv this compulsion to pretend to be doing homework. Talk about classical conditioning.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now in Uni, i hv so many teachers i like!! The best so far is &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Ms Elaine&lt;/span&gt; and Ms Grace, in my opinion. Ms Elaine can make the driest subjects the funnest &lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;(if thats even a word)&lt;/span&gt;. She's always so bubbly in class and not to mention, one of the prettiest too!! Dang, i miss her, man. She's not teaching us this sem.&lt;br /&gt;Then there's &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Ms Grace&lt;/span&gt; who always treats us like adults and is very jovial, despite what she says. The thing about her is that she's open minded to a lot of things, prolly cos of her experience as a counsellor la. But she can like get along with anyone, i think, prolly even drug addicts wtf. That day she made my &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;sad, sad, sick&lt;/span&gt; day by telling me i look sexy even while i'm sick and in two layers of clothes, with my nose all runny, and my hair tied up in a nerdy way. Aww, ms grace, &lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;"&gt;what u want!?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt; (YL style)&lt;/span&gt; *blush*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now, i''ve just overdosed on cough syrup which i have a sneaky feeling is a scam to make money. I've been drinking it like water these few things and &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;NOTHING&lt;/span&gt; has been happening! Maybe they just put flavoured water in there and make u drink it. I mean, &lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;"&gt;eventually&lt;/span&gt; you'll heal right? And when u do, you'll probably go,&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; "ahh, its this trusty cough syrup, it works!!!"&lt;/span&gt;,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;and &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;font-size:130%;" &gt;that&lt;/span&gt;, ladies and gentlemen, is why people buy cough syrup.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thank you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6209156170517866045-4282635722628587439?l=chroniclesofnisha.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://chroniclesofnisha.blogspot.com/feeds/4282635722628587439/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6209156170517866045&amp;postID=4282635722628587439' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6209156170517866045/posts/default/4282635722628587439'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6209156170517866045/posts/default/4282635722628587439'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://chroniclesofnisha.blogspot.com/2008/10/im-couch-potato-and-proud-of-it.html' title='I&apos;m a couch potato and proud of it!!'/><author><name>~ da nISha da sTArZ ~</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17993639223556156336</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_XWMuZATG_so/S5Xm28E19BI/AAAAAAAADZ4/CqjfsZclYZE/S220/Untitled.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6209156170517866045.post-3472965485571847244</id><published>2008-10-02T15:21:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2008-10-02T15:42:01.465+08:00</updated><title type='text'>When i grow up, i wanna be...</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;A MYTHBUSTER!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://thenot.files.wordpress.com/2008/04/mythbusters_logo.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 167px; height: 111px;" src="http://thenot.files.wordpress.com/2008/04/mythbusters_logo.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;(no, i wasn't going to break into a PCD song)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yea, i think their job is the coolest and probably has a very high job satisfaction rate. Just think of it, they get to goof around in their job, get to invent new stuff to test their myths, get the satisfaction of knowing the truth and they get to be famous on TV as well! How can u go wrong with a job description like that, seriously?&lt;br /&gt;Unfortunately i didn't think of this earlier or i would have taken Applied science or something. Dammit.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyhoo, holidays have been crap  for me so far cos i'm still sick. But, i sure had fun teaching my mum how to drive a manual! For once i can boss her around! Weee!.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;btw, i've been looking for a good daily planner/organizer software that i can download. I've found a few good ones but i want one thats really great though. anyone got an answer for me? pls leave the website somewhere on this page..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;toodles.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6209156170517866045-3472965485571847244?l=chroniclesofnisha.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://chroniclesofnisha.blogspot.com/feeds/3472965485571847244/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6209156170517866045&amp;postID=3472965485571847244' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6209156170517866045/posts/default/3472965485571847244'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6209156170517866045/posts/default/3472965485571847244'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://chroniclesofnisha.blogspot.com/2008/10/when-i-grow-up-i-wanna-be.html' title='When i grow up, i wanna be...'/><author><name>~ da nISha da sTArZ ~</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17993639223556156336</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_XWMuZATG_so/S5Xm28E19BI/AAAAAAAADZ4/CqjfsZclYZE/S220/Untitled.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6209156170517866045.post-4280289484424421937</id><published>2008-10-01T00:40:00.006+08:00</published><updated>2008-10-03T12:39:19.456+08:00</updated><title type='text'>It begins today..</title><content type='html'>Oh my dear god, i just spent 30 minutes trying to get this freaking contact lenses out of my right eye. What a waste of time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wore it all by myself without anyone teaching me how, but little did i know, wearing is the easiest part of it. Taking it out is the pain. haiz.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;This is how my contacts look like...a bit blur picture. &lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_XWMuZATG_so/SOJY8oN3cGI/AAAAAAAAAjM/m2VCcIhOs6o/s1600-h/PICT0954.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 206px; height: 155px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_XWMuZATG_so/SOJY8oN3cGI/AAAAAAAAAjM/m2VCcIhOs6o/s320/PICT0954.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5251857914078392418" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;A sharper, more poser-ish photo.&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_XWMuZATG_so/SOJY892p6sI/AAAAAAAAAjU/jA5mPq9G9D4/s1600-h/PICT0939.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 142px; height: 190px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_XWMuZATG_so/SOJY892p6sI/AAAAAAAAAjU/jA5mPq9G9D4/s320/PICT0939.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5251857919886617282" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;Anyways, just came back from Social gathering for psychology, knowing i'm gonna regret eating ice-cream when i have been dead sick for 2 days and beginning to recover only today. God, i hv no self-control.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;moving on, tommorrow is Raya! Weee!&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; Raya=holidays&lt;/span&gt;! Yeah, man!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;Except:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Raya=holidays=assignments=great expectations to finish assignment cos of holidays=doom&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dammit, i knew there was a catch, there always is.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6209156170517866045-4280289484424421937?l=chroniclesofnisha.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://chroniclesofnisha.blogspot.com/feeds/4280289484424421937/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6209156170517866045&amp;postID=4280289484424421937' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6209156170517866045/posts/default/4280289484424421937'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6209156170517866045/posts/default/4280289484424421937'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://chroniclesofnisha.blogspot.com/2008/10/it-begins-today.html' title='It begins today..'/><author><name>~ da nISha da sTArZ ~</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17993639223556156336</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_XWMuZATG_so/S5Xm28E19BI/AAAAAAAADZ4/CqjfsZclYZE/S220/Untitled.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_XWMuZATG_so/SOJY8oN3cGI/AAAAAAAAAjM/m2VCcIhOs6o/s72-c/PICT0954.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6209156170517866045.post-4018405827223867868</id><published>2008-09-27T23:41:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2008-09-27T23:46:22.013+08:00</updated><title type='text'>OMFG</title><content type='html'>&lt;object height="349" width="425"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/YmCDR1IGLAQ&amp;amp;hl=en&amp;amp;fs=1&amp;amp;rel=0&amp;amp;color1=0x5d1719&amp;amp;color2=0xcd311b&amp;amp;border=1"&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/YmCDR1IGLAQ&amp;amp;hl=en&amp;amp;fs=1&amp;amp;rel=0&amp;amp;color1=0x5d1719&amp;amp;color2=0xcd311b&amp;amp;border=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowfullscreen="true" height="349" width="425"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Omg, I love Josh Groban even more now! Weee! You roccckkkkkk!!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6209156170517866045-4018405827223867868?l=chroniclesofnisha.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://chroniclesofnisha.blogspot.com/feeds/4018405827223867868/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6209156170517866045&amp;postID=4018405827223867868' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6209156170517866045/posts/default/4018405827223867868'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6209156170517866045/posts/default/4018405827223867868'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://chroniclesofnisha.blogspot.com/2008/09/omfg.html' title='OMFG'/><author><name>~ da nISha da sTArZ ~</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17993639223556156336</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_XWMuZATG_so/S5Xm28E19BI/AAAAAAAADZ4/CqjfsZclYZE/S220/Untitled.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6209156170517866045.post-7597328980447557465</id><published>2008-09-27T17:28:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2008-09-27T17:36:29.422+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Furball</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_XWMuZATG_so/SN387XoW4iI/AAAAAAAAAjE/V7LAK8n2_ng/s1600-h/702423688l.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_XWMuZATG_so/SN387XoW4iI/AAAAAAAAAjE/V7LAK8n2_ng/s400/702423688l.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5250630837469635106" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This post is dedicated to my friend Krunz and her cat Simba.&lt;br /&gt;I don't think i made a very good impression on Simba when i first met him. Firstly, i always used to call him 'her" which i think hurt his ego a lil' bit, but mainly i used to hunt him down like a fanatic cat lover just so i can touch his lovely long soft fur. He blends in so well with the fur rug, no?&lt;br /&gt;Haihz, i have two cats too, and i dunno what i'll do without them. I realized last night  how much i take them for granted, so i tried to cuddle them a bit - they ran away from me. Oh well, i tried.&lt;br /&gt;To krunz, simba has been such an adorable cat and a good friend to you, i can only try to imagine what you're going thru now. No matter, he's in a better place.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;RIP&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6209156170517866045-7597328980447557465?l=chroniclesofnisha.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://chroniclesofnisha.blogspot.com/feeds/7597328980447557465/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6209156170517866045&amp;postID=7597328980447557465' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6209156170517866045/posts/default/7597328980447557465'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6209156170517866045/posts/default/7597328980447557465'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://chroniclesofnisha.blogspot.com/2008/09/furball.html' title='Furball'/><author><name>~ da nISha da sTArZ ~</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17993639223556156336</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_XWMuZATG_so/S5Xm28E19BI/AAAAAAAADZ4/CqjfsZclYZE/S220/Untitled.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_XWMuZATG_so/SN387XoW4iI/AAAAAAAAAjE/V7LAK8n2_ng/s72-c/702423688l.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6209156170517866045.post-482471183616879997</id><published>2008-09-25T20:40:00.004+08:00</published><updated>2008-09-25T21:45:22.634+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Tech geek</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;Ok, i've gotten the bug. The "download-fancy-stuff-and-install-it-to-make-your-PC-pretty" bug. Now i need your help cos i can't decide which of these three backgrounds are the prettiest. Pls leave a comment, i need it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_XWMuZATG_so/SNuHJfk_fhI/AAAAAAAAAi8/28uhsjYcbPo/s1600-h/Vista.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_XWMuZATG_so/SNuHJfk_fhI/AAAAAAAAAi8/28uhsjYcbPo/s400/Vista.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5249938387795672594" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Vista Leaf&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_XWMuZATG_so/SNuHI9HDcbI/AAAAAAAAAis/RQ2a5UKmbKM/s1600-h/LEAF.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_XWMuZATG_so/SNuHI9HDcbI/AAAAAAAAAis/RQ2a5UKmbKM/s400/LEAF.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5249938378543296946" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Autumn Leaf&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_XWMuZATG_so/SNuHJIexKrI/AAAAAAAAAi0/c0SCxgQJLuI/s1600-h/tree2.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_XWMuZATG_so/SNuHJIexKrI/AAAAAAAAAi0/c0SCxgQJLuI/s400/tree2.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5249938381595552434" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Autumn Tree&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;Ooh, btw, that whole panel u see on the right side of the screen, is a new software. Its a copy of the sidebar that is on the Vista desktop. Its called "&lt;a href="http://www.thoosje.com/"&gt;Thooseje&lt;/a&gt;" vista side bar. It has its own media player, tiny notepad, and calender. U can add stuf to it as well. Geez, i'm advertising for them now. I'm so hooked to finding new software that i actually feel like starting a new blog just for it. Yes, its a waste of time, but i like it. I won't have time to update it though. haiz.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thats all for now, gotta go pretty up my laptop.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Toodles.&lt;br /&gt;P.S. Leav your comment ok?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6209156170517866045-482471183616879997?l=chroniclesofnisha.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://chroniclesofnisha.blogspot.com/feeds/482471183616879997/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6209156170517866045&amp;postID=482471183616879997' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6209156170517866045/posts/default/482471183616879997'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6209156170517866045/posts/default/482471183616879997'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://chroniclesofnisha.blogspot.com/2008/09/tech-geek.html' title='Tech geek'/><author><name>~ da nISha da sTArZ ~</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17993639223556156336</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_XWMuZATG_so/S5Xm28E19BI/AAAAAAAADZ4/CqjfsZclYZE/S220/Untitled.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_XWMuZATG_so/SNuHJfk_fhI/AAAAAAAAAi8/28uhsjYcbPo/s72-c/Vista.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6209156170517866045.post-446417667489904136</id><published>2008-09-24T21:23:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2008-09-24T21:44:37.057+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Of tires and brochures.</title><content type='html'>Ok, i hv a confession. I'm totally terrified of pumping up my car tire pressures cos of a story i heard last time. Not sure who told it to me. In this story, a guy pumped his tire pressures to high till it burst in his face and his head got blown off and he...he......died. Well u can't really blame me for being afraid can u?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tmr, i'm supposed to hand in an assignment. The assignment was to make a brochure about Schizophrenia for the layman and the public. I just rudely found out that this brochure must be in black and white. Like wtf? Imagine having those black and white brochure's given out to u which were printed on cheap paper. Eew, no wonder ppl think Schizophrenics are crazy. Their brochures should be colourful and have happy pictures to associate it with positive feelings right?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But, no, my lecturer (whose a psychologist ironically,) refuse to let us print it in colour. Well, good luck in educating the public that schizo does not mean crazy. Cause i wash my hands off this *flicks hair*.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6209156170517866045-446417667489904136?l=chroniclesofnisha.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://chroniclesofnisha.blogspot.com/feeds/446417667489904136/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6209156170517866045&amp;postID=446417667489904136' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6209156170517866045/posts/default/446417667489904136'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6209156170517866045/posts/default/446417667489904136'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://chroniclesofnisha.blogspot.com/2008/09/of-tires-and-brochures.html' title='Of tires and brochures.'/><author><name>~ da nISha da sTArZ ~</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17993639223556156336</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_XWMuZATG_so/S5Xm28E19BI/AAAAAAAADZ4/CqjfsZclYZE/S220/Untitled.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6209156170517866045.post-9178948246600167345</id><published>2008-09-24T00:29:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2008-09-24T00:31:43.269+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Randomness.</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_XWMuZATG_so/SNkZhIfz6FI/AAAAAAAAAik/warCfP8y3OE/s1600-h/YL.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_XWMuZATG_so/SNkZhIfz6FI/AAAAAAAAAik/warCfP8y3OE/s400/YL.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5249254897684310098" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Hell YEAH!!! I rock!! Muahahaha.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;In your face.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6209156170517866045-9178948246600167345?l=chroniclesofnisha.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://chroniclesofnisha.blogspot.com/feeds/9178948246600167345/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6209156170517866045&amp;postID=9178948246600167345' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6209156170517866045/posts/default/9178948246600167345'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6209156170517866045/posts/default/9178948246600167345'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://chroniclesofnisha.blogspot.com/2008/09/randomness.html' title='Randomness.'/><author><name>~ da nISha da sTArZ ~</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17993639223556156336</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_XWMuZATG_so/S5Xm28E19BI/AAAAAAAADZ4/CqjfsZclYZE/S220/Untitled.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_XWMuZATG_so/SNkZhIfz6FI/AAAAAAAAAik/warCfP8y3OE/s72-c/YL.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6209156170517866045.post-5245465126006502348</id><published>2008-09-22T20:41:00.004+08:00</published><updated>2008-09-22T20:48:58.949+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Extreme Makeover</title><content type='html'>My laptop is feeling like a different...er...laptop after a makeover i've put it through. I cleaned up the mess of the windows icons on the desktop by downloading a program called ObjectDock which makes your icons appear like Mac style like this...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_XWMuZATG_so/SNeTP4lxJHI/AAAAAAAAAic/e2d3kwbress/s1600-h/Mac.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_XWMuZATG_so/SNeTP4lxJHI/AAAAAAAAAic/e2d3kwbress/s400/Mac.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5248825791821718642" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_XWMuZATG_so/SNeTPpZ3MHI/AAAAAAAAAiU/lniLmIPWeZ0/s1600-h/candle.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_XWMuZATG_so/SNeTPpZ3MHI/AAAAAAAAAiU/lniLmIPWeZ0/s400/candle.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5248825787745251442" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;I got the fonts from the net (thanks to Nette for showing me how to do it) and added it to the candle light picture. The panel at the side can be downloaded from Google Desktop and can be personalized as well. Now my computer is extremely clutter free and super super neat. Weee, as u can see, i hv a new look for my Blog as well...double weeee....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ok, need to do assignments.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6209156170517866045-5245465126006502348?l=chroniclesofnisha.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://chroniclesofnisha.blogspot.com/feeds/5245465126006502348/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6209156170517866045&amp;postID=5245465126006502348' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6209156170517866045/posts/default/5245465126006502348'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6209156170517866045/posts/default/5245465126006502348'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://chroniclesofnisha.blogspot.com/2008/09/extreme-makeover.html' title='Extreme Makeover'/><author><name>~ da nISha da sTArZ ~</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17993639223556156336</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_XWMuZATG_so/S5Xm28E19BI/AAAAAAAADZ4/CqjfsZclYZE/S220/Untitled.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_XWMuZATG_so/SNeTP4lxJHI/AAAAAAAAAic/e2d3kwbress/s72-c/Mac.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6209156170517866045.post-6797151532740995667</id><published>2008-09-21T12:11:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2008-09-22T19:46:44.169+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Reality Therapy</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;Ok, i dunno whats with the title, its the best i could think of. Today I braved myself up to get over this irrational fear of mine. So i opened google earth, switched to Sky View and started looking for Planets. Omg, it was so scary at first. I think i was having high blood pressure for about 15 minutes wtf. Especially when looking at the sun.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_XWMuZATG_so/SNXJr7u0paI/AAAAAAAAAfE/HDzAVKnoOqc/s1600-h/Jupiter.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_XWMuZATG_so/SNXJr7u0paI/AAAAAAAAAfE/HDzAVKnoOqc/s400/Jupiter.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5248322697375819170" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;The first i looked up was Jupiter cos i like the planet. It looks so fuzzzzy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_XWMuZATG_so/SNXJr4k9s0I/AAAAAAAAAfM/GOuJQWIHSNM/s1600-h/Pluto.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_XWMuZATG_so/SNXJr4k9s0I/AAAAAAAAAfM/GOuJQWIHSNM/s400/Pluto.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5248322696529163074" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Next was Pluto cos it was the furthest..Looks a bit like the sun.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_XWMuZATG_so/SNXJsCXstzI/AAAAAAAAAfc/-vn6dnQz5zo/s1600-h/galaxy.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_XWMuZATG_so/SNXJsCXstzI/AAAAAAAAAfc/-vn6dnQz5zo/s400/galaxy.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5248322699157878578" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Next i clicked somthing accidentaly and it almost gave me a panic attack to look at this..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_XWMuZATG_so/SNXJsCmvWNI/AAAAAAAAAfk/_Dm5yRR5y4Q/s1600-h/Sun.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_XWMuZATG_so/SNXJsCmvWNI/AAAAAAAAAfk/_Dm5yRR5y4Q/s400/Sun.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5248322699220965586" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Yet, the worst of all is the sun. I actually swore out loud when the screen was zooming into the sun. Aaaarggh!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Toodles.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6209156170517866045-6797151532740995667?l=chroniclesofnisha.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://chroniclesofnisha.blogspot.com/feeds/6797151532740995667/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6209156170517866045&amp;postID=6797151532740995667' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6209156170517866045/posts/default/6797151532740995667'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6209156170517866045/posts/default/6797151532740995667'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://chroniclesofnisha.blogspot.com/2008/09/reality-therapy.html' title='Reality Therapy'/><author><name>~ da nISha da sTArZ ~</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17993639223556156336</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_XWMuZATG_so/S5Xm28E19BI/AAAAAAAADZ4/CqjfsZclYZE/S220/Untitled.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_XWMuZATG_so/SNXJr7u0paI/AAAAAAAAAfE/HDzAVKnoOqc/s72-c/Jupiter.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6209156170517866045.post-4794576084140491662</id><published>2008-09-15T09:46:00.005+08:00</published><updated>2008-09-20T12:44:14.370+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Time passes quickly when you're counting beans</title><content type='html'>Yes, we actually sat down and counted &amp;amp; recounted 10 000 pure microscopic beans.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yes, i do have a life. I did that all or charity okay? There was this funfair held last Sunday where there was lots of food, nail painting (by me), face painting (by Neera), and games that we put up last minute. There was also a stall with "guess the number of beans in the jar".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here are some pictures..&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_XWMuZATG_so/SM-HffzFNGI/AAAAAAAAAec/YQSb3nqo-0Q/s1600-h/PICT0832.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_XWMuZATG_so/SM-HffzFNGI/AAAAAAAAAec/YQSb3nqo-0Q/s320/PICT0832.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5246561066091361378" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_XWMuZATG_so/SM-HgIOhlXI/AAAAAAAAAe0/Qqx-EDexpcE/s1600-h/PICT0831.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_XWMuZATG_so/SM-HgIOhlXI/AAAAAAAAAe0/Qqx-EDexpcE/s320/PICT0831.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5246561076943885682" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_XWMuZATG_so/SM-HfogemWI/AAAAAAAAAek/oCsnyfo0eKQ/s1600-h/PICT0830.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_XWMuZATG_so/SM-HfogemWI/AAAAAAAAAek/oCsnyfo0eKQ/s320/PICT0830.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5246561068429252962" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_XWMuZATG_so/SM-Hf2Rkq4I/AAAAAAAAAes/4IVfKq4115Y/s1600-h/PICT0833.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_XWMuZATG_so/SM-Hf2Rkq4I/AAAAAAAAAes/4IVfKq4115Y/s320/PICT0833.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5246561072124832642" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_XWMuZATG_so/SM-HgOCGL2I/AAAAAAAAAe8/yfmdYwjwbd4/s1600-h/PICT0837.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_XWMuZATG_so/SM-HgOCGL2I/AAAAAAAAAe8/yfmdYwjwbd4/s320/PICT0837.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5246561078502371170" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyways, i haven't updated in a long long time cos i've been busy busy busy. I've been wrapping coupon boxes, been to PD and back with neera, Jo, and Tasha, Scored 2 goals in futsal (Woo Hoo!), found and in the process of reading a book online, being a control freak with the sims in Sims 2 (i've got issues), an going to Neera's house for real-money poker.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thats a lot.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm such a bum, i tell u. I've done all this things except sit down and do my bloody assignments. Even thinking of it gives me severe depression. Gahhhh. I've even skipped a quiz *gasp*.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On Thursday, i went with Jo to her friend's party at a latin music bar in KL. It was in Westin hotel i think. I've never actually been to a salsa bar thingy before. The crowd there were more adults in their 30's and some of them are so damn good at dancing latino, man! I could have just sat there and watched all night but genius Jo decided to switch our spot to the dance floor. I had no idea how on earth to dance in a latino style! So i just shook a bit and snapped my fingers like how loser guys who dunno how to dance in clubs do.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Until, that is, some old white fart grabbed me and started dancing with me. What a perv, man. He's like old enough to be my grandfather's grandfather and like 2 minutes away from a fatal old-age heartattack or something. And he was so intimidatingly tall i couldn't just back away either. I had no idea which country he was from, and he asked me to slow dance with him. So i told him i dunno how to dance to this kind of songs. Then he asked me what drink he can get me, so i told him i don't drink.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yea right, and Global Warming is just fiction. lol wtf.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So i escaped by asking my friends where the bathroom was and quickly ran there and called Jo on her HP to come with me. After that when i went down, I just ignored that old fuck la, and he got the message. I felt so bad after that actually, but i mean, how on earth do u tell a guy u don't want to dance with him without offending him?? The male ego is so huge he might just shoot me in the head then and there itself. I didn't wanna risk that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, after that we went to MOS with Pras which was such a let down cos of the music. I know its like international club and international DJ's and stuff, but playing techno for 2 and a half hours just isn't my thang. And the stupid DJ blew us off when we requested Flo Rida - Get Low. He actually said in the mic 'sorry, not happening tonight man'. Like, fuck off! But he played it at the end la. I mean, literally at the end, the very last song, and he mixed it with techno which was not bad at all! Didn't get to go personally thank him la.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Moving on, yesterday i went out with Marcus, Yvonne and Niru! Its been ages, man! Siu Hong and Lynette were in as well! I missed u ppl! I felt so nostalgic when i finally went out with so many high school friends. And i've finally have found some puff puff buddies, Woo HOO!! Went and had some drinks in a place called Dave's which had live music, not bad at all. I must get pictures from Hong. Anyway, i just wanna say that Niru, i feel so flattered abt my blog now. I'm gonna make effort to update it just to keep u entertained..weeeeeee. *blush*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Don't forget your Vanakam's, wtf.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I woke up at 12 today and i feel like a beached whale. yea, i just wanna sit and stone my life away. But the evil queen in the house (aka, mummy) will not here of it. She'd rather eat whale meat than let it be beached. Dunno if that made sense.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Okay, i'm gonna go eat Mooncake now. Tata, everyone.&lt;br /&gt;Ps: Hong &amp;amp; Nette, pls gimme pictures!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Toodles.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6209156170517866045-4794576084140491662?l=chroniclesofnisha.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://chroniclesofnisha.blogspot.com/feeds/4794576084140491662/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6209156170517866045&amp;postID=4794576084140491662' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6209156170517866045/posts/default/4794576084140491662'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6209156170517866045/posts/default/4794576084140491662'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://chroniclesofnisha.blogspot.com/2008/09/time-passes-quickly-when-youre-counting.html' title='Time passes quickly when you&apos;re counting beans'/><author><name>~ da nISha da sTArZ ~</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17993639223556156336</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_XWMuZATG_so/S5Xm28E19BI/AAAAAAAADZ4/CqjfsZclYZE/S220/Untitled.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_XWMuZATG_so/SM-HffzFNGI/AAAAAAAAAec/YQSb3nqo-0Q/s72-c/PICT0832.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
